Resident Evil Volume 4 Chapter 25

 

eah, more scared of us than we are of them,

wouldn't that be nice. We should be so lucky... "That's it!" Cole said too loudly, then immediately dropped his voice, flushing. "How we can get out, maybe. The, uh, animals were all kept in cages or

kennels or something behind the back walls. I don't

know about the other phases, but there's a hall that

runs around Four, I've seen the door to this one's, it's

maybe twenty feet from the southwest corner. It has

to be easier than the exit; I mean, it'd be locked, but

probably not reinforced."

John was nodding, and Leon thought it sounded a

hell of a lot more plausible than trying to get through

a hatch bolted from the outside.

"Good," John said, "good call. Let's see if we

can..."

Something moved. Something in the shadows of a

tan two-story building on the right, something that

shut John up and had all of them aiming into the

darkness, tense and alert. Ten seconds passed, then

twenty - and whatever it was seemed to be holding

perfectly still. Or...

... or, we didn't see anything at all.

"Nothing there," Cole whispered, and Leon started to lower the nine-millimeter uncertainly, thinking

that it had looked as though something was moving

and then the something they couldn't see

screamed, a shrill and terrible shriek like some kind

of terrible bird, like a feral beast in a blind rage

and the darkness itself moved - Leon still

couldn't see it clearly, it was like a shadow, a part of a

building that was in motion, but he saw the tiny,

shining eyes, light-colored and at least seven feet off

the ground, and the dark and ragged talons that nearly

touched the asphalt, and he realized that it was a

chameleon as it sprang toward them, still screaming.

Reston hurried back toward the control room, the weight of the sidearm against his hip making him feel

a little better. He'd feel better still if he made it back

in time to watch the Hunters slaughter the three men,

although he'd settle for just seeing the dead bodies.

That would be perfectly fine, no problem so long as

they die.

Reston wanted a drink, he wanted to get back to

control, lock himself in and wait for Hawkinson to

come back. He'd felt a moment of near-hysteria when

he'd realized that communications had gone down,

but nothing had changed, not really. The elevator was

still locked off and the incompetent sergeant would be

back with the helicopter in no time at all; if it was the

surface trio who'd cut the outside lines - which he

had no doubts about, not really - Hawkinson would

handle them. If by some small chance it was actually a

technical problem, a new electrician would be

brought in as soon as he missed his morning report.

Not being able to contact his colleagues had been

the distressing part, but he'd decided that it could

work to his advantage; who wouldn't be impressed,

that in such nerve-wracking circumstances he'd still

managed to handle things? All things considered,

trapping the invaders in the test program was his only

recourse. No one would blame him, or at least not

overly much.

Retrieving the .38 revolver from his room had

eased his mind even more; he'd brought it to the

Planet mostly because it had been a gift from Jackson,

and though he knew very little about guns, he knew

that all he had to do with the .38 was pull the trigger.

The heavy handgun practically shot itself, there

wasn't even a safety switch to fuss with...

Reston was halfway back to control when it oc-

curred to him that he should have let the workmen

out of the cafeteria; he'd walked right past the locked

door, twice, and hadn't thought of it. Too much

brandy perhaps. He considered going back for about

one heartbeat, deciding that they could damn well

wait; making certain that the 3Ks were acting as they

should was much more important. Besides, he meant

to fire the whole worthless lot as soon as he'd reestab-

lished contact with the home office; not one of them

had even tried to protect the Planet or their employer.

Control, ahead on the right. Reston broke into a

jog, rounding the corner to the offshoot and hurrying

through the door. There was movement on one of the

screens, and he ran to the chair, both excited and

anxious to see the men fall. It was nothing to be

ashamed of, they were in the wrong, after all -

- and they weren't dead, not one of them, but Reston saw that now it was only a matter of moments.

All three men were shooting at one of the Hunters,

and as he watched, a second loped on to the scene,

still as black as the car it must have been standing by.

Red spun to his right, shooting at the new threat,

but the 3K wasn't to be put off by a few puny bullets;

with a single massive leap, the Hunter closed the gap

between them, twenty feet with one powerful thrust.

They could do almost thirty, Reston knew from the

preliminary data -

- and now Cole was firing at it, too, as John

continued to blast at the first, already the deep gray of

the asphalt. The first had taken a lot, fire from all

three men; as Reston watched, it turned and sprang

off of the screen, out of sight.

The second was still a deep shining black, perfectly

defined as it raised one muscular arm to swat at the

bullets hammering its body. Huge, a naked, sexless

humanoid shape, the towering beast with the sloping,

reptilian skull and three-inch talons threw back its

head and howled. Reston knew the sound, his mind

filling it in for the silently screaming creature as it

started to disappear into the street, the match near

perfect, as it swung its arm again and Red was

knocked sprawling.

Yes!

John stepped in front of his fallen comrade and

blasted at the fading monster, as Cole pulled Red to

his feet, the two men backing away. There was some

vocal interchange -

- and the two ran off the screen, headed south . . .

had the creature been hurt? John stopped firing and

there was blood pouring from somewhere, covering

the 3K's face, its chest -

- eyes, must have hit its eyes. Dammit! It reeled and fell, not a fatal wound but one that would

incapacitate it for a while.

John turned and ran after his companions, no other

Hunters in sight - at least Reston didn't think so. Not

that it mattered, they were as good as dead; there was

no way they could get through the city without being

attacked, nowhere they could hide - though just to be

on the safe side, Reston tapped the doorlock for the

connecting door back to Three.

No retreat, gentlemen. . .

They hadn't appeared on the screen that showed

the street just south of the first camera angle; frown-

ing, Reston switched cameras, using one from a

building front -

- and saw a door close, the men seeking sanctuary

inside one of the stores. Reston shook his head. That would probably shield them for five minutes, cer-

tainly no longer, the 3Ks had the strength to tear

down the city, if they so chose, and hunted primarily

by sense of smell. They'd track the cowering men,

track them and finally put an end to their trouble-

making, useless lives.

There wasn't a camera in the building they'd en-

tered; he'd have to wait for them to reappear, or for

the Hunters to drag them out. Reston grinned, his

teeth grinding together, impatient, wondering why the

3Ks were taking so goddamn long. It was time for the

test to end, time for the Planet to be restored.

The Hunters wouldn't fail him. He just had to wait

a few more minutes.

They found the way in at the back of the middle

building, past the generator room, where they'd put

the three snarling guards. It was a total fluke, as they'd

only been looking for the controls to unlock the

service elevator back in the entry building.

There were four of them, a bank of elevators in a

carpeted alcove against the far west wall. They

weren't operational, but there was a two-man lift in

the first shaft they opened up, David and Claire

prying the doors open with no small effort. Though

tired and unwell, the sight of the tiny platform hooked

to its own pulley system made Rebecca want to laugh

out loud.

They'll never suspect that we're coming, we'll slip in

like shadows.

"Looks as though someone forgot to lock the back

door," David said, a look of triumph on his weary face.

Claire looked at the small square of metal doubt-

fully. "Will we all fit?"

David didn't answer right away, turning to look at

Rebecca. She knew what he was going to suggest and

started digging for a decent argument before he even

opened his mouth.

The helicopter could come back, probably will, if

they're injured you'll need me, what if the guards

manage to get out...

"Rebecca ... I need an honest assessment of your

condition," he said, his features carefully neutral. "I'm tired, I have a headache and a limp - and you

need me down there, David, I'm not a hundred

percent but I'm not on the verge of collapse, either,

and you said yourself that another team is probably

on the way."

David was smiling, holding up his hands. "All right, we all go. It will be a tight fit, but the weight shouldn't be a problem, you're both small..."

He stepped inside, pulling his flashlight and shining

it across the hanging cables, then on the simple

control box attached to the lift's half-railing. "... I think we can manage well enough. Shall we?"

Rebecca and then Claire stepped into the elevator

shaft, the makeshift service platform only filling a

quarter of the dark space. Cold, open air was above

and below, and the rail was only on one side. Claire

squirmed uncomfortably against the metal bar; the

three of them were pressed tightly together.

"Wish I had a breath mint," Claire muttered.

"I wish you had breath mint," Rebecca said, and Claire snickered. Rebecca could feel the movement of

Claire's rib cage against her arm; they were packed in

tight.

"Here we go," David said, and pushed the controls. The lift started to descend with a huge, buzzing

rumble that was so loud Rebecca began having second

thoughts about their sneak attack. It was slow, too,

inching down at less than half the speed of a normal

elevator.

God, this could take forever...

Just the thought made Rebecca feel incredibly

weary, the noise of the roaring motor compounding

her headache. Standing still made her realize just how

sick she really felt, and as the bright square of the

open doors slid up, shrinking away as they descended

into the dark, Rebecca was suddenly glad that they

were huddled together; it gave her an excuse to lean

heavily against David, her eyes closed, trying to keep

herself together for just a little longer.

 

EIGHTEEN

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