“You're alive,” she said, stepping forward, so happy to see him that she didn't know how she wasn't crying with relief. He clumsily embraced her with one arm, patting her shoulder before stepping away.
“The others?” she asked.
Enrico turned, looked toward the industrial lift. “They came ahead. We were looking for Edward, and you.”
She lowered her eyes. “Edward—he didn't make it.”
Enrico's gaze hardened slightly, but he only nodded. “Did you see the rest of the team come through?”
“No.”
“They must have just missed you,” he said. “We found these documents ...“ He shook his head, as if denying a story that would take too long to tell. She understood completely.
“Due east of here is an old mansion,” he continued. “We believe that Umbrella uses it for research. Come on. We can catch up to them if we hurry.”
He started to walk away, and she felt her heart knot, a hot, hard fist in her chest.
“Wait!” she blurted, before she could think twice. “I've got to find Billy.”
Enrico turned, stared. “Billy Coen? You found him?”
“Yes, but we got separated, and . . “ She trailed off, not sure how to explain.
“No point worrying about him,” Enrico said. “He won't make it, anyway. Let's go.”
“Sir, I—“ She swallowed, forced herself to meet his gaze. “It's a long story. But I—I need to find him. Don't worry, I'll catch up with you.”
“Rebecca,” he started, then seemed to read something in her voice, in her face, perhaps the same story she'd read in his—too much had happened, and any explanation would probably take longer than either of them could afford.
“Be careful,” he said, and she drew herself up, gave him a firm nod, the acknowledgement of one professional to another. He turned and started away. She watched him go, watched as he reached the pile of rubble on the other side of the vast room, turned to the elevator there, disappeared from her sight.
I finally find my team, and tell them to go ahead without me, she thought, too weary to be astounded by her decision. They were alive, at least. As soon as she found Billy, she— they—would head east, catch up to the team at the Umbrella mansion.
She checked the elevator that Enrico had appeared from, found that it only went up. That made her decision easier, anyway. She walked across the room to the other one. She pushed the recall button, heard the creak and jerk of movement, the mechanism humming from somewhere inside the shaft. It was slow, crawling back from wherever Enrico had taken it. Rebecca leaned against the door, wishing it would hurry. She was too tired to stop moving, afraid that she might not get started again.
A large chunk of rock rolled down from the shadows at the top of the debris pile, hit the cement floor not far from where she stood, broke into several pieces. It was quickly followed by another, then a third—and then a small avalanche, many of the slabs shifting, resettling as a small cloud of dust rose up from the fallen debris. Rebecca stepped back from the elevator door, eyeing the pile nervously.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
What sounded like heavy footsteps, coming from the mound of wreckage. More rock shifted, clattered to the floor.
“Enrico?” she asked, her voice hopeful and very small in the dust-choked air.
Crunch.
Crunch.
She pushed the recall button again. From the sound, the elevator continued to inch closer, but now she could see something moving, something in the shadows. Something big. And it was coming for her.
Billy held on to the broken remains of an eroded support pillar, waves and eddies of cold, dark water rushing past him, working to loosen his numb fingers. He held tight, half conscious, tried to assess, to resolve. He could barely think at all. He remembered the monkey—
—baboon, she said-attacking, its dirty claws sinking into his upper arms, remembered hitting
the railing, hard. Remembered the splash of grimy water, the oily, sour taste and smell of it as it washed over him, Rebecca shouting his name, her voice fading as the current carried him away. There was the gurgling scream of the panicked animal as it let go, was drawn under—and then there was an outcropping of rock, and a sharp pain at one temple, and—and now he was here. Somewhere.
He was hurt, dizzy, lost. To his right, the waters gathered and roared, pushing their way through a giant pipe that led into darkness, a pipe more than big enough to swallow him whole. There was some kind of walkway perhaps ten meters to his left, suspended over the swirling water, but it might as well have been ten klicks, for his chances of getting to it. The water was too fast, too wild, and he wasn't the best swimmer even on a good day.
He held on. It was all he knew how to do.
Thirteen
The creature that pulled itself up and out of the rubble was like nothing Rebecca had ever seen before. It stood up near the top of the debris pile, raised its arms as though stretching, allowing her a clear look at it, making her mouth go dry, her palms sweat. She had a sudden, desperate urge to go to the bathroom.
It was humanoid. Human, almost, in that it had the facial features of a man—except no man glowed so pale, its hairless skin, its body, a luminous near-white. No man had claws that extended almost the length of his arms, the talons curved and shining like steel knives, longer on the right hand than on the left. The thick ropes of its veins were visible through its skin; masses of red and white tissue humped over its huge shoulders, across its massive chest. Clusters of blood-red sores were liberally scattered over its three-meter tall body, and much of its lower face had been ripped away, revealing a bleeding, flesh-and-bone grin, which it turned to Rebecca now, snicking its talons as though greatly anticipating their meeting.
The creature looked down at her, its impossible grin seeming to widen slightly. She could hear it breathing, a harsh rasping sound, could actually see the pump of its strange, pulsing heart, only partly shielded by its ribcage.
Barely aware that she'd raised the shotgun, Rebecca fired.
The blast peppered its chest with black, sudden ribbons of blood sliding down its body, and it threw back its huge, bald head and screamed, a sound like Armageddon, like the end of everything. There was more rage, more fury than pain, and Rebecca suddenly understood that she wasn't going to survive very much longer.
With a single, graceful leap, the monster sprang from the pile of shattered rock, hit the floor not four meters away in a crouch. Rebecca could feel the ground tremble. Its steel talons raked against the concrete as it drew itself up, its gray, malignant gaze fixing on her. She backed away, pumping the shot-gun, her entire body shaking as she tried to aim, tried to target its horrible grin. It stepped closer, came between her and the elevator—just as she heard the elevator car slide to a stop, heard the door unlatch.
The creature took another step. At least it's slow; if I can lure it away, then run back—
Another step, and she could hear and see a crack appear in the pavement beneath its thick black toe-nails. She moved back, tried to lengthen the distance between them—
—and suddenly it was running, fast, a blur as it dropped one arm, sweeping it up, the blades of its hands close enough for her to see a reflection of her own movement as she dove out of the way. She did a shoulder roll, clutching the shotgun to her chest, coming to her feet even as the creature finished its strange, sweeping run. Sparks flew up from the wall next to the elevator, a control panel ripped apart—