Please understand. Please know that I'm sorry.
Martin Crackhorn Jill sighed, laying the crumpled paper gently on the desk. The creatures were victims of their own research. It seemed she'd had the right idea about what had happened in the mansion, though reading the heartfelt letter put a serious damper on any pride she might have taken from her deduction skills. After placing the sun crest, she'd decided that the upstairs office merited a closer look and with a little digging, she'd found the final scrawled testament of Crackhorn, tucked in a drawer.
Crackhorn, Martin Crackhorn – that was one of the names on Trent's list…
Jill frowned, walking slowly back to the office door.
For some reason, Trent wanted the S.T.A.R.S. to figure out what had happened at the mansion before anyone else did, but with as much as he obviously knew about it, why not just tell them outright? And what did he stand to gain by telling them anything at all?
She stepped through the office's small foyer and back out into the hall, still frowning. Barry had been acting strange before, and she needed to find out why.
Maybe she could get a straight answer if she just asked him outright… …or maybe not. Either way, it'll tell me something.
Jill stopped by the back stairs, taking a deep breath and realized that something was different.
She looked around uncertainly, trying to figure out what it was her senses were telling her.
It's warmer. Just a little, but it's definitely warmer.
And the air isn't quite as stale…
Like someone had opened a window. Or maybe a door.
Jill turned and jogged down the stairs, suddenly anxious to check the puzzle lock. Reaching the bottom of the steps, she saw that the door connecting one hall to the next was standing open. She could hear crickets singing faintly, feel the fresh night air wafting toward her through the frigid mustiness of the house.
She hurried to the darker corridor and hooked a right, trying not to get her hopes up. Another sharp right and she could see the door that led to the covered walkway standing open.
Maybe that's all it is, it doesn't mean the puzzle's solved.
Jill broke into a run, feeling the clean warmth of summer air against her skin as she rounded the corner in the stone path and let out a short, triumphant laugh as she saw the four placed crests next to the open door. A warm breeze was flowing through the room that the puzzle had unlocked, a small storage shed for gardening tools. The metal door on the wall opposite was standing open, and Jill could see moonlight playing across a brick wall just past the rusted hinges.
Barry had been right, the door led outside. They'd be able to get help now, find a safe route through the woods or at least signal.
But if Barry found the missing pieces, why didn't he come looking for me?
Jill's grin faded as she stepped into the shed, absently taking in the dusty boxes and barrels that lined the gray stone walls. Barry had known where she was, had suggested himself that she take the second floor of the west wing…
So maybe it wasn 't Barry who opened the door.
True, it could've been Chris or Wesker or one of the Bravos. If that was the case, she should probably go back in and look for Barry.
Or investigate a little first, make sure it's worth the effort.
It was a bit of a rationalization, but she had to admit to herself that the thought of returning to the mansion with a possible escape in front of her wasn't all that enticing. She unholstered her Beretta and walked toward the outer door, her decision made.
The first thing she noticed was the sound of rushing water over the soft forest noises that filled the cooling air, like a waterfall. The second and third were the bodies of the two dogs that lay across the irregular stone path, shot to death.
Pretty safe bet that one of the S.T.A.R.S. came this way…
Jill edged out into a high-walled courtyard, low hedges set into brick planters on either side. Dark clouds hung oppressively low overhead. Across the open space was a barred iron gate just past an island of shrubs; to her left, a straight path overshadowed by the ten-foot-high brick walls that bordered it. The gentle waterfall sound seemed to come from that direction, though the path ended abruptly in a metal gate a few feet high.
Stairs going down maybe?
Jill hesitated, looked back at the arched, rusty gate in front of her and then at the curled bodies of the mutant dogs. They were both closer to the gate than the walkway, and assuming they'd been killed while attacking, the shooter would have been headed in that direction.
There was a sudden sound of water splashing wildly, making the decision for her. Jill turned and ran down the moonlit walk, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was making the noise.
She reached the end of the stone path and leaned over the gate, then drew back a little, surprised by the sudden drop off. There were no stairs, the gate opened to a tiny platform elevator and a huge, open courtyard, twenty feet below.
The splashing was off to the right, and Jill looked down and across the wide yard just in time to see a shadowy figure walk through the waterfall she'd heard, disappearing behind the curtain of water that cascaded down the west wall.
What the hell?
She stared at the small waterfall, blinking, not sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. The splashing had stopped as soon as the person disappeared, and she was fairly certain that she wasn't hearing thingswhich meant that the rushing water concealed a secret passage.
Great, that's just what this place needs. Lord knows I didn't get enough of that inside.
The controls for the one-man lift were on a metal bar next to the rusting gate, the platform itself down in the courtyard. Jill toggled the power switch, but nothing happened. She'd have to get down another way, wasting time while the mysterious splasher got farther away.
Unless…
Jill looked down the narrow elevator shaft, an inset square only three feet across and open on the side facing the yard. Coming up would be a bitch, but descending? Cake. She could crouch her way down in a minute or less, using her back and legs to support her weight.
As she unstrapped the shotgun from her back in preparation for the climb, a disturbing thought occurred to her – if the person who'd gone through the waterfall was one of the S.T.A.R.S., how had they known that the passage was even there?
Good question, and not one she wanted to linger over. Holding the shotgun tightly, Jill pushed the gate open and carefully started down the shaft.
They'd given Barry a full fifteen minutes before heading through the winding halls of the west wing and finding the open back door.
They stood therenow, looking at the slab of copper and its four engraved crests.
Chris stared at the crescent moon that Barry had taken, feeling confused and more than a little worried.
Barry was one of the most honest, straightforward guys that he had ever known. If he said that he was going to look for Jill and then come back for them, then that's what he meant to do.
But he didn't come back. And if he ran into trouble, how did the piece I gave him end up here?
He didn't like any of the explanations his mind was giving him to work with. Someone could have taken it from him, he could've placed it himself and then been injured somehow… the possibilities seemed endless, and none of them good.
Sighing, he turned away from the diagram and looked at Rebecca. Whatever happened to Barry, we should go ahead. This may be the only way off the estate.
Rebecca smiled a little. Fine by me. It just feels good to get out of there, you know?