Umbrella, Umbrella did this…
Annette crawled to her feet, using the rage to overcome the pain. She had to get out, to get to the laboratory before the spies did, but oh, she hurt so very much! The stabbing sensation in her gut was terrible, a knife sawing at her insides, and the lab seemed a million miles away…
… can't let them steal his work…
She staggered toward the door to the cavernous room, one arm wrapped around her burning chest and stopped, tilting her head to one side, listening. Shots. Echoing through the chill air, coming from the adjacent dumping grounds and a second later, she heard a thundering hiss, more shots, splashing -
– Annette grinned, a tight, humorless grin. Perhaps she'd get to the lab first, after all.
The bridge, lower the bridge, don't let her es-cape…
Tired and aching, Annette stumbled to the hydrau– lic's controls and activated the span's descent. The powerful hum of the bridge's motors drowned out the noises of whatever battle was being waged, the plat-form rotating down and locking into place with a heavy clang. Annette pushed herself away from the wall, falling against the console by the door. She found the switches for the ventilation fan and flicked them up, still smiling grimly as the whining start-up high overhead grew into a dull roar. Ada had run into trouble in the dump, and Annette wasn't going to let her just climb back out of it; with the bridge lowered and the shaft blocked, Ms. Wong would have to fight her way through.
Hope it's a pack of tickers, you bitch, I hope they're tearing you to pieces in there…
Annette turned away from the console and fell, the pain and dizziness too much, her bruised and swelling knees hitting the floor and sending fresh needles of agony through her legs…… and the door in front of her opened. Annette raised the gun but wasn't able to aim, expending what was left of her strength just to keep from screaming in suffering and frustration.
William, it hurts so bad, I'm sorry but I can't…
A young woman crouched in front of her, a look of wary concern on her smudged face. She was dressed in cutoffs and a vest, dripping with sewer water and held a sleek and heavy handgun, not pointing it directly at Annette, but not pointing it away, either. Another spy. "Are you Ada?" the girl asked tentatively, reaching out to touch her and it was more than Annette could stand, to be touched in pity by some heartless, scheming corporate pawn.
"Get away from me," Annette snarled, slapping at the girl's outstretched hand weakly. "I'm not your 'contact,' and I don't have it on me. You can kill me, but you won't find it."
The girl moved back, a look of confusion on her dirty face. "Find what? Who are you?" The questions again, and the fury passed, leaving her numb. Annette was tired of playing games; it hurt too much, and she just wasn't strong enough to fight anymore. "Annette Birkin," she said wearily. "As if you didn't know…" She'll kill me now. It's over, it's all over.
Annette couldn't help it. Tears trickled down cheeks, tears as futile as her plans. She'd failed William, she'd failed as a wife and a mother and even as a scientist. At least it would end now, at least there would finally be an end to the anguish…
"Are you Sherry's mother?"
The girl's words stunned her, snapping her out of her exhausted collapse as sharply as a slap to the face.
"What?! Who… how do you know about Sherry?" "She's lost in the sewers," the girl said, speaking quickly, her voice tinged with desperation as she shoved her handgun into her belt. "Please, you have to help me find her! She was sucked into one of the drainage shafts and I don't know where to look…" "But I told her to go to the station," Annette wailed, the physical pain all but forgotten, her heart pounding out waves of horrified disbelief. "Why is she here? It's dangerous, she'll be killed! And the G– Virus – Umbrella will find her, they'll take it, why is she here?"
The girl reached for her again, helping her up, and Annette didn't fight, too weak and terrified to fight. If Sherry was in the sewers, if Umbrella found her… The girl stared at her intently, looking somehow guilty and afraid and hopeful all at once. "The station was overrun – where do the drains go? Please, An-nette, you have to tell me!"
The truth dawned into her exhaustion and fear like a ray of bitter light. The drains let out into the filter pool – which hap-pens to be right next to the factory tram. The fastest route to the labs. It was a trick. The girl was using Sherry's name to get to the facility, to get information about the G-Virus. Sherry was still at the station, safe and well, and this was all an elaborate ruse…
… but Umbrella knows the way, why would she ask if she knows already?It doesn't make sense!
Annette raised the gun, her aching wrist trembling, and backed away from the girl. Her confusion was too big, the questions too many and because she couldn't be sure of anything, she couldn't pull the trigger. "Don't you move. Don't you follow me," she snarled, ignoring the pain, reaching back to push the door open. "I'll shoot if you try to follow me." "Annette– I don't understand, I just want to…" "Shut up! Shut up and leave me alone, can't you all just leave me alone?!"
She backed through the door, pushing it closed on the surprised and frightened girl, squeezing her arm against her bruised or broken ribs as soon as the hatch was shut.
Sherry…
It was a lie, it had to be a lie, but it didn't change anything, either way. She could still make it, she had to make it back to the facility, to finish what she had started. Turning, limping and gasping, Annette stumbled into the cold darkness of the connecting tunnel, letting each terrible, aching step be a reminder of what Umbrella had done. * * *
A cold, silent cavern, the walls sheened with ice, and I am lost. I am lost and exhausted, running and afraid for a very long time, so I sit down to rest. So quiet, so cold, but my arm hurts, I'm sitting against a wall that has grown spines, and one of them is digging into my flesh, piercing me. It hurts so badly, and I have to get up, I have to find someone, I have to……wake up.
Leon opened his eyes, aware at once that he'd hazed out again. The realization made him catch his breath, the sudden fear jolting him fully awake.
Ada, Claire – Jesus, how long?
He gently pulled his hand away from his arm, the blood gummy and thick between his fingers. It hurt, but not as sharply as before and the bleeding had stopped, at least at the entrance; the shreds of his torn uniform had clotted to the wound, forming a stiff seal. He leaned forward, reaching around to touch where the bullet had come out; again, a hardening, tacky patch of fabric beneath the pulsing ache of the wound. He couldn't be positive, but he thought that the bullet had gone straight through the flesh, missing the bone completely – which meant he was extremely god– damn lucky.
Even if it blew my arm off, Ada's still out there and I sent Claire after her. I have to go after them.
He thought it was the shock of the trauma that had made him black out, rather than the pain or blood loss and he couldn't afford any more time to re– cover. Clenching his teeth, Leon pushed himself up with his good arm, his muscles cold and stiff from the damp chill of the concrete. His left shoulder brushed against the wall, and he gasped as the pain intensified briefly, stabbing and hot, but it ebbed, receding to the duller throbbing sensation after a few seconds. Leon waited it out, breathing deeply, reminding himself that it could have been a hell of a lot worse. When he was finally on his feet, he decided that he could take it; he wasn't light-headed or dizzy, and although there was blood on the floor and wall, there wasn't nearly as much as he'd thought there would be. Careful not to jostle his wound, Leon turned and walked down the corridor to the closed door at the end, moving as quickly as he could. Through the door, he was faced with another water-filled tunnel stretching off in either direction; there was a ladder on the wall to his left, but he didn't even want to guess at how to climb it without ripping open the wound – besides which, there was a loudly spin– ning fan at the top. He struck off to the right, stepping down into the dark water and sloshing forward, hoping that he'd see some sign as to where Ada or Claire had gone.