– can't breathe -
Sherry kicked wildly, twisting her body, her eyes stinging from the bad water and managed to take a breath as her head broke the surface, as she realized that she was in a tunnel, a pitch black shaft no bigger than the vents from the station. The swift waters carried her along, Sherry taking deep gasps of the foul air overhead, forcing herself not to struggle against the relentless power of the hissing liquid. The tunnel had to end somewhere and wherever it came out, she had to be ready to run.
Claire, please find me, please don't give up on me…
She was lost, blind and deaf, sliding down through the dark and farther… and farther away from the only person who could protect her from the nightmare creatures that had taken over Raccoon.
Annette no longer doubted that her husband had escaped the laboratory levels. Not only were half of the facility entrances unsealed, the fences that sur– rounded the factory had been breached and the sewer tunnels, the tunnels that should have been mostly empty, were crawling with human carriers that had to have come from outside. Even as advanced as they'd been in terms of cellular deterioration, she'd had to shoot down five of them just to clear a path from the tram to the sewage operations room. After what seemed an eternity of trudging through the semi-treated, inky waters of the labyrinthian system, she came to the platform she'd been looking for. Annette stepped up into the concrete tunnel, gazing warily at the closed door a few meters in front of her. Closed and undamaged, a good sign, but what if he'd gone through before he'd lost all trace of human intelligence, before he'd grown into an un– thinking, violent animal? Even now, he might still retain something resembling memory; the truth was, she didn't know. The G-Virus hadn't been tested on humans yet…
… and if he did go through? If he made it to the police station?
No. She couldn't, wouldn't entertain the possibili– ty. Considering what she did know about the progres– sive chemophysiologic changes – what he would be capable of doing if the virus worked the way it was supposed to – the thought of him getting to an unin– fected population… well, it was unthinkable. The station is safe, she thought firmly. Irons may be an incompetent ass, but his cops aren't. Wherever William is, he couldn't have gotten past them. She couldn't afford to believe anything else; Sherry was there, if she'd done what she was supposed to do and besides being her own flesh and blood (which, she reminded herself, was reason enough), Sherry played a very important role in her future plans. Annette leaned against one cold and sweating wall, aware that time was running out but simply unable to go on without resting for a moment. She'd been counting on the encoded territorial instinct to keep him close to the lab, and had been so sure that she would find him, that her live, human scent would lure him to her… but she was almost at the end of the contained area, and all she'd found were a dozen ways in which he could have escaped.
And Umbrella will be here soon. I have to get back, I have to activate the fail-safe before they can stop me.
William deserved to be at peace, but beyond that, destroying the creature that had once been her hus– band would eradicate all of her doubts about the success of her objective. What if she blew the lab and escaped, only to find that Umbrella had captured him? All of her struggles, all of his work, for nothing… Annette closed her eyes, wishing that there was an easy way to make the decision that had to be made. The fact was, William's death simply wasn't as crucial as getting rid of the lab. And there was a good chance that they wouldn't find him, that they weren't even aware of his transformation…
… and it's not as though I have a choice. He's not here, he's not anywhere.
She pushed away from the wall, walking slowly toward the door. She would check the last few tun-nels, perhaps see if the conference rooms showed any sign of damage and then she would go back. Go back and finish what Umbrella had started. Annette pushed the door open…… and heard footsteps, echoing through the lonely corridor from somewhere up ahead; the hall was shaped like a "T," the sounds melting into them– selves, making it impossible to tell from which direc– tion they were coming, but they were the strong, sure steps of an uninfected human, perhaps more than one, and that could only mean one thing.
Umbrella. They've finally come.
Rage boiled up through her, making her hands shake, her lips curl back from gritted teeth. It had to be them, it had to be one of their murdering spies; besides Irons and a few of the city officials, only Umbrella knew that these tunnels were still in use and that they led to the underground facility. The possibility that it was some innocent survivor of the spill didn't cross her mind, and neither did running; she raised the handgun and waited for the heartless, murdering bastard to appear. A figure stepped into sight, a woman in red, and Annette fired…… bam, but she was trembling, screaming inside, and the shot went high. It ricocheted off the cement wall with a whining, zipping sound, and the woman was raising a weapon of her own…… and Annette fired again, barn-zip, but suddenly there was another one, a blurred, flying shape that leapt in front of the woman, knocking her out of the way, all of it happening at once…… and Annette heard the cry of pain, a man's cry, and felt a burst of roaring triumph.
Got him, I got him…
But there could be more, she hadn't hit the woman and they were trained killers. Annette turned and ran, her dirty lab coat flying, her wet shoes slapping against the cement. She had to get back to the lab, fast. Time had run out.
TWENTY-ONE
Leon stopped to adjust his shoulder harness, so Ada walked on ahead, musing over how surprisingly clear the first few tunnels had been. If memory served, this corridor let out right next to sewage treatment ops; past that was the tram to the factory, and then the machine lift to the underground. Conditions would probably get worse the closer they got to the labs, but with the trek as trouble-free as it had been so far, she was feeling optimistic. Leon had been uncomfortably quiet since they'd opened the path into the sewers, only talking when it was necessary – watch your step, hold up a minute, which way do you think we should go… she didn't think he was even aware of the defenses he'd put up, but she was getting better at reading him. Officer Kennedy was brave, he was at least above-average in the brains department, he was a crack shot and he didn't know dick about women. When she'd blown off his attempt to comfort her, she'd confused and hurt him and now he didn't know how to interact with her. He'd chosen to withdraw rather than risk another rejection.
Really, it's for the best. No point in leading him on when it's not necessary, and it saves me the trouble of ego-stroking…
She stepped into the intersection of the empty hall, thinking about the easiest place to part company fromher escort…… and saw the woman, just as she fired. Bam!Ada felt chips of concrete spray across her bare shoulders as she brought the Beretta up, a blur of emotions and realizations flashing through her in the instant it took to react. She wouldn't be able to return fire in time, the woman's next shot would kill her, anger at herself for being so stupid – and recognition.