insufferably patronizing. "Mr. Reston, we don't have to do anything. I don't know what's really going on,
but I believe you're a liar - and I may not speak for
everyone, but I know I'm not getting paid enough to
be your bodyguard."
He smiled suddenly, his blue eyes sparkling. "Be- sides which, they're not after us."
Nick turned and walked away, and Reston briefly
considered shooting him - but he only had six bullets
and no doubts that the men would turn on him if he
injured one of their working-class pack. He thought
about telling them that their lives were over, that he
wouldn't forget their treachery, but he didn't want to
waste his breath. And he didn't have time.
Hide.
It was all there was to do.
Reston turned his back on the insubordinates and
hurried out, his mind grasping for places to go, rejecting them as too obvious, too exposed...
... and then he had it. The bank of elevators,
around the corner from the medical facilities. It was perfect. No one would think to look in an elevator car
that didn't even work, he could pry one open and be
safe inside. At least for a while, until he thought of
something else he could do.
Sweating in spite of the cool gray stillness that was
the main corridor, Reston turned right and started to
run.
After what seemed like hours of going down
through the dark, of the cold and uncomfortable
huddle on the deafeningly loud servicing lift, they hit
bottom.
Or top, depending on how you look at it, Claire thought absently, looking down through the open
panel as David's flashlight played across the plush
interior, as the roaring motor wound down to silence.
They'd landed on top of an elevator car, empty except
for a stepladder pushed to one side.
They stepped off of the metal square, Claire re-
lieved to be back on a reasonably solid surface. Riding
down through an open elevator shaft where one false
move could send you crashing to your death wasn't
her idea of a good time.
"Think anyone heard us?" Claire asked, and saw David's silhouette shrug.
"If they were within a thousand feet of this thing,
yes," he said. "Wait, I'll get the stepstool. . ."
Claire turned on her flashlight as David sat, grab-
bing the edges of the open panel and lowering himself
down. As he moved the small ladder into place,
Rebecca turned her flashlight on, and Claire caught a
glimpse of her face.
"Hey, you okay?" She asked, worried. Rebecca looked sick, too pale and with dark, purplish half
circles beneath her eyes.
"Yeah. I've been better, but I'll survive," she said lightly.
Claire wasn't convinced, but before she could pur-
sue it any further, David called up to them.
"Alright let your feet hang down, I'll guide them
to the steps and then lift you down."
Claire motioned for Rebecca to go first, deciding
that if she couldn't function, she'd probably say
something. As David helped Rebecca down, though,
it occurred to Claire that she wouldn't say anything.
I'd want to help, and I wouldn't want to be left
behind; I'd keep going if it killed me. . .
Claire pushed the thoughts aside, lowering herself down through the elevator's roof. Rebecca wasn't as
stubborn as she was, and she was a medic. She was
fine.
As soon as she was down, David nodded at Claire
and the two of them pulled at the cold metal doors,
Rebecca holding her semi aimed loosely at the widen-
ing gap. When they'd managed to push the heavy
doors a couple of feet apart, David stepped out first,
then motioned for them to follow.
Wow.
She wasn't sure what she expected, but the gray hall
of subtly lit concrete wasn't it. It stretched right,
ending in a door, and left, a sharp turn about twenty
feet from the elevator that headed east. Claire wasn't
sure about the directions, but she knew that the
elevator that had trapped Leon and John was roughly
southeast - assuming it had gone straight down,
anyway.
It was quiet, perfectly still and quiet. David tilted
his head to the left, indicating that they would head
that way, and Claire and Rebecca both nodded.
Might as well start at the elevator, see if we can
figure out which way they headed. . .
Claire glanced at Rebecca again, not wanting to
stare but uneasy about her health; she really didn't
look so good, and as Rebecca turned toward the hall's
corner, Claire hung back a little. She caught David's
gaze, nodding slightly toward the young medic,
frowning.
He hesitated, then nodded in turn, and she saw that
he wasn't blind to her condition. At least there was
that
and Rebecca let out a sharp cry of surprise,
already at the corner as a man in a blue suit leapt forward
and grabbed her, knocking her gun out of her hand, putting a
revolver to the side of her head. He locked one arm
around her throat, tight, and turned wild, sweaty eyes
in their direction, his finger on the trigger, a trembling
grin on his aging face.
"I'll kill her! I'll do it! Don't make me do it!"
Rebecca clutched at his arm and he squeezed even
tighter, his hands shaking, his blue eyes darting back
and forth between David and Claire. Rebecca's eyes
closed a little, her fingers dropping away, and Claire
realized that she was too weak, that she was on the
verge of collapse as it was.
"You people aren't going to kill me, just stay away!
Stay away or I'll kill her!"
The barrel of the revolver was pressed to her skull;
if David or she made a move. . .
They watched helplessly as the madman started backing around them, dragging Rebecca with him
toward the door at the end of the hall.
TWENTY
IT WAS FRIGHTENINGLY EASY TO BRING FOS-
sil out of stasis. In a matter of moments, Leon had
gotten into the monitoring program and figured out
how to drain the giant cylinder. According to the
digital timer that popped up on the screen, it would
only take about five minutes once he entered the
command.
Man, anyone working here could have done it, at
any time. For such a paranoid company, Umbrella sure
takes chances. . .
"Hey, look at this," John said, and Leon turned from the small computer, glancing warily at the
monster. Even after surviving the hell of Raccoon,
after fighting zombies and mammoth spiders and
even a giant alligator, it was probably the strangest
thing he'd ever seen.
John was standing at the wall across the room,
staring up at a laminated picture. As Leon got closer,
he saw that it was a map of the Planet, each area
neatly labeled. The testing facility had a fairly simple
layout, basically a giant corridor that surrounded the
four phases, most of the rooms and offices on off-
shoots from the main hall.
John tapped a small square at the east, just across
from where the service elevator was. "Says 'test con- trol/monitor room,'" he said, "and it's on the way out."
"You think Reston's holed up there?" Leon asked. John shrugged. "If he was watching us in the test program, that's where he would have been - what I'm
interested in is if he happened to leave his little black
book lying around."
"Wouldn't hurt to check," Leon said. "It'll take the tube about five minutes to drain, we'd have time - as-
suming the elevator's not a problem."
John turned around to look at Fossil, asleep in its
gel womb. "You think it'll actually wake up?"
Leon nodded. The stats that had been listed in the
simple monitoring program all seemed to match up,
its heart rate and respiration indicating deep sleep; no
reason it wouldn't wake up once the warm nutrient
bath was drained.
And it'll probably wake up cold, pissed, and hun-
gry...
"Yeah," he said. "And we want to be gone when it does."
John smiled a little, not his usual grin but a smile, anyway. "Then let's get gone," he said softly.
Leon walked back to the computer, bathed in pale
red light from the stasis tube. Fossil floated peace-
fully, a sleeping giant. A monstrosity, created by
monstrous people and living a useless life in a place
built for death.
Take it all down, Leon thought, and hit the "Enter" key. The timer started its count; they had five minutes.
David thought it was probably Reston, although there
was no way to be sure. It didn't matter, all he cared
about was how to get Rebecca away from him, and as
the crazed man in the blue suit backed to the door,
David realized that there was nothing he could do.
Not yet.
"Just go away! Leave me alone!" The man - Res- ton - shouted, and then he was gone. Rebecca was
gone, and the weak, listless way she'd looked at them
before the door closed scared David badly.
"What do we do?"
He looked at Claire, saw the anxiety and fear on her
face, and made himself take a deep breath, blowing it
out slowly. They wouldn't be able to do anything if
they panicked -
- and we could very well get her killed.
"Stay calm," he said, feeling anything but. "We don't know the floor plan, we can't circle around
behind him . . . we'll have to follow."
"But he..."
"Yes, I know what he said," David interrupted. "There's no alternative at this point. We let them get a
safe distance, then follow, look for an opening."
And hope that he's not as unstable as he looks.
"Claire - this is stealth work, we can't afford to
make a sound. Perhaps it would be better if you stayed
here. . ."
Claire shook her head, a look of determination in
her gray eyes. "I can do it," she said, firmly and clearly. She had no doubts, and though untrained,
she'd proven herself to be quick and steady.
David nodded and they walked to the door to wait,
two minutes unless we hear an exit, crack the door for
sound...
He forced himself to take another deep breath,
cursing himself for letting Rebecca come with them.
She was exhausted and injured, she wouldn't be able
to fight if he decided to tighten his arm a bit more
about her throat...
No. Hang on, Rebecca. We're coming, and we can
wait all night for him to make a slip, to find our
opportunity.
They waited, David praying that Reston wouldn't hurt her, swearing that he'd cut out the man's liver
and feed it to him if he did.
They looked for the elevator, not sprinting through
the endless gray hall, but not taking their time about
it, either. The cafeteria was empty, and a half-minute
check of the bunk rooms satisfied John that the
workers had gone. There were clear signs that the guys
had been in a hurry to grab their shit and get out.
Hope Reston's still here, though...
As they ran north down the main corridor, John
decided that if Mr. Blue was still in the control room,
he'd knock him out. A good solid punch to the temple
0 Comments