Claire turned on her flashlight as David sat, grabbing 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 pursue 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 thatshewouldn'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 widening 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 FOSsil 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 offshoots from the main hall.
John tapped a small square at the east, just across from where the service elevator was. "Says 'test control/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—assuming 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 hungry. ...
"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 peacefully, 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 "
Claireshookher head, a look of determination in her grayeyes."I can do it,"shesaid, 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.