by S. D. Perry
Tight nods, and then David turned, addressing Kinneson.
"We need to get to the laboratory, but our friend Karen isn't well. We'd like for you to take her and an escort to the boat, and wait for us."
Kinneson's eyes seemed to blank out for just a second, the strange, vacant look there and gone so quickly that David wasn't even sure he'd seen it. "We have to hurry," he said quickly, then turned and started back down the passage he'd appeared from, walking at a brisk pace. David felt a sudden worry, staring at Kinneson's rapidly receding back, his dirty lab coat floating out behind him.
He didn't even ask who we are,…
As Steve and Karen started to enter the tunnel, David touched Steve's arm, speaking softly. "Watch him carefully, Steve. We'll be there as soon as we can."
Steve nodded and moved off after the strange Dr. Kinneson, Karen stumbling along next to him. John and Rebecca were already standing in front of the middle passageway, weapons still in hand. The chamber shook as outside, a muffled thunder roared. Without speaking, the three of them started down the gloomy tunnel in a tired but determined jog, ready to face the human monster behind the many tragedies of Caliban Cove.
They turned the first corner, Karen hanging onto his shoulder with a cold and sweating hand and the researcher was just rounding a bend farther ahead, a good hundred meters away. Steve caught a glimpse of fluttering white and the heel of a black loafer, and then he was out of sight, clattering footsteps moving away.
Great. Lost in a goddamn sea cave labyrinth because Dr. Strangelove has a schedule to keep…
Karen let out a low moan of soft distress and Steve felt the cold, hard knot in his stomach clench tighter, his fear of getting lost nothing next to fear he felt for Karen. She was leaning on him more heavily, her feet dragging against the dank limestone floor.
David, John, Rebecca, please hurry, please don't let Karen get any worse…
He pulled her along as quickly as he could, con– cerned about catching up to Kinneson, worried about the others putting themselves in danger, afraid for the desperately sick woman who clung to his side. Except for meeting Rebecca, it had to be the worst day of his life. He'd only been with the S.T.A.R.S. for a year and a half, and while he'd been in threatening situations before, they didn't come close to what he'd experi– enced in the few short hours since they'd been knocked out of the raft. Sea monsters, zombies with guns and now Karen. Smart, serious Karen, losing her mind, maybe turning into one of those things. We're so close to getting out of here and it may still be too late… As they reached the turn in the tunnel, Steve realized that he couldn't hear Kinneson's footsteps anymore. He staggered around the corner, thinking that he should call for him to wait up, not to get too far ahead and he stopped cold, his gut plummeting to somewhere around his knees. Kinneson stood two meters away, holding a.25 semi-automatic, his face and eyes as strangely blank and lifeless as a manne– quin's. He stepped forward and pressed the small bore into Steve's stomach, hard, jerking the Beretta out of his holster and then stepping back. The flat-eyed doctor moved to one side, now holding both weapons on them as he motioned for Steve to move in front of him.
"Watch him carefully, Steve…"
Steve held on to Karen's side, fumbling through his thoughts for ways to stall, to reason with Kinneson, his body tensing to spring even as his brain screamed at him to go along, not to get shot -
–what would happen to Karen? "You will come to the lab," Kinneson said tone-lessly, "or I'll kill you." It was the inflectionless voice of a computer, com– ing from the blankly merciless face of a man who suddenly didn't seem human, not at all. "We know what you did here," Steve spat. "We know all about your goddamn Trisquads, we know about the T-Virus, and if you want to get out of this without…" "You will come to the lab or I'll kill you."
Steve felt a helpless shudder run through his body. Kinneson's tone hadn't altered at all, his gaze as fixed and emotionless as his voice. Steve noticed the lines then, the deep, spidering lines that swept away from
his cold brown eyes, sat at the corners of his slack and
expressionless lips.
Oh my God… "You will come to the lab or I'll kill you," he repeated, and this time, he raised both weapons holding them inches away from Karen's sagging head. Steve knew she was dying, knew that there was a good chance she'd lose against the virus and becomea violent, insane creature before the night was through -but I have to protect her for as long as I can. If I sacrificed her to save myself and there was even a chance that she could've been cured…
Steve wouldn't, couldn't do it. Even if it meant his own life. Holding Karen tightly, he stepped ahead of the thing and started to walk.
Enough time had passed. If the intruders had done what they were supposed to do, they would have split up, some of them heading mistakenly for the pen, some accompanying the good doctor back to the lab. If Alan had failed, he'd at least have stalled the intruders long enough to keep them out in the open. Either way, it was time.
Griffith tapped the control panel for the Ma7 enclo-sure, thinking wistfully how much fun it would be to see the looks on their faces. The red light flashed to green, signifying that the gate was fully open. No matter, he supposed. So long as they died.
FIFTEEN
The winding tunnel seemed to go on forever. Every time they rounded a turn, Rebecca expected to see a sealed door, a slot set next to it for the key card that David carried. As the corners continued, the hanging lights going on for another stretch of tunnel, each as empty and featureless as the stretch before, she stopped wishing for the door. A sign would suffice, an arrow painted on the wall, a chalk mark – anything that would put to rest her growing suspicion that they'd been misled.
Lied to by an Umbrella scientist? Perish the thought…
Tired sarcasm aside, Kinneson had been weird, but had definitely seemed frightened to the point of hysteria. Could he have been confused in his panic, pointed to the wrong passage? Or was the lab just better hidden than they thought?
Or did he send us off on a snipe hunt, some dead-end cave – or even a trap, something dangerous, meant to keep us out of the way while he…
…while he did something to Steve and Karen. The thought frightened her even more than the concept of walking into a trap. Karen was desperately ill, she wouldn't be able to defend herself, and Steve…
…no, Steve's okay. He'd be able to take Kinneson in a
heartbeat…
Except that Karen was with him. A very sick Karen,
struggling just to stay upright.
Their jog had slowed to a shag, David and John both breathing heavily, frowns deepening across their exhausted faces. David held up a hand, stopping them. "I don't think it's this way," he panted. "We should have seen something by now. And the piece of paper with the key card said southwest, east – I'm not sure, but I think after that last turn, we're heading west."
John bobbed his head, his short, tight hair glisten-ing with sweat. "I don't know which way we're going, but I know I think Kinneson's full of shit. The guy works for Umbrella, for chrissake." "I agree," Rebecca said, breathing deeply. "I think we should go back. We have to get to the lab, soon. I don't think…"
Clank! They froze, staring at each other. From somewhere farther down the endless tunnel, something made of heavy metal had just been moved. "The lab?" Rebecca said hopefully. "Could it…" A low, strange sound cut her off, the words dying in her throat as the noise picked up strength. It was like nothing she'd ever heard before – a dog howling, combined with an off-key whistling whine and the sound of a newborn baby's desperate cry. It was a lonely, terrible sound, rising and falling through the tunnel, finally building to a warbling, mournful shriek – then it was joined by several others. She was suddenly absolutely certain that she didn't want to see what was making that sound, even as David started backing up, his face pale and eyes wide. "Run," he said, training his Beretta on the empty passage ahead of them, waiting until they had stum– bled past before turning to fo
llow. Rebecca felt a burst of incredible energy as adrena– line gushed into her body, sent her sprinting through the shadowy tunnel to escape the rising shrieks of whatever was behind them. John was just in front of her, his muscled arms and legs pumping madly, and she could hear the clattering steps of David on her heels. The howls were getting louder, and Rebecca could feel the stone vibrate beneath her flying feet, the heavy, galloping steps of the shrieking beasts thunder– ing after them.
– not gonna make it -
Even as she realized that they'd be overtaken, she heard David gasp out, "Next turn…" …and as they reached the end of the empty stretch where the tunnel curved again, Rebecca whirled around, raising the Beretta in her sweating, shaking hand, training it back on the last turn they'd taken. John and David flanked her, gasping, nine-milli– meters aimed alongside hers. Twenty meters of blank passage, filled with the now deafening cries of their unseen pursuers. As the first of them tore into view, all three of them fired, slugs ripping into the creature that at first Rebecca thought was a lioness – then a giant lizard -
– then a dog. She caught only a mad, patchwork vision of the impossible thing, seeing parts of it that her mind fit into a whole – the slitted, cat-like pupils. The giant snake head, a gaping, slavering jaw filled with bladed teeth. The squat and powerful barrel-chested body, sand-colored, thick legs bowing in front, mus– cular, springing haunches propelling it toward them at an incredible speed……and even as the bullets found its strange, reptili-an flesh, there was another behind it……and the first explosive rounds that smacked into the thick body of the closest creature knocked it off of its clawed feet, staggered it backward as blooms of watery blood spattered the tunnel walls……and, shaking its head, screaming in ferocious sorrow, it launched itself at them again.
– oh shit -
Rebecca squeezed the trigger again, four, five, six, her mind screaming as loudly as the two monstrous animals that ran at them, eight, nine, ten……and the first went down, stayed down, but there was still the second and now a third, tearing down the tunnel, and the Beretta only held fifteen rounds.
We're gonna die…
David jumped back, behind the line of thundering fire. An empty clip skittered across the floor, and then he was next to her again, aiming and squeezing, the Beretta jerking smoothly in his practiced hand. Rebecca counted her last round and stumbled back– ward, praying that she could do it as fast as David and saw that the third animal was stumbling back, its wide chest gushing thin streamers of red. It collapsed into the puddle of watery fluid it created and stayed there. Nothing in the tunnel moved, but there were at least two more around the corner. Their wailing cries continued to wax and wane through the tunnel, but they stayed back, out of sight – as if they knew what had happened to their siblings, and were too smart to charge into waiting death. "Fall back," David said hoarsely, and still aiming at the blind corner, they started to edge backward, the shrieks of the hybrid creatures rolling over them in lonely, terrible waves. Griifith moved quickly away from the door when he heard the key in the lock, not wanting to be too close to whomever Alan had brought along. He had Thur– man already standing ready, just in case there were any sudden moves, but when he saw the young man and his passive partner step into the lab, he doubted he'd have any trouble.
What's this? A few too many drinks, perhaps? An unseen mortal wound?
Griffith smiled, waiting for him to speak or for the woman to move, his heart full and warm with good humor. It had been so long since he'd talked to someone who could respond without prompting, and the fact that his fine plan had worked made him all the merrier. Behind him, Alan sealed the door and stood blankly, holding two weapons on the unlikely pair. The young man gazed wide-eyed around the labora– tory, his dark gaze settling on the wide airlock win– dow in something like awe. The woman's head was down, rolling across her chest.
He had the deep, natural tan of a Hispanic, or perhaps someone from India. Not too tall, but sturdy enough. Yes, he'd do quite nicely… and since this might even have been the one to destroy Athens, there was a certain poetic justice being served. The youth's darting gaze finally rested on Griffith, curious and not altogether as frightened as Griffith would have liked.
We'll see about that… "Where are we?" the young man asked quietly. "You are in a chemical research laboratory, approx-imately twenty meters below the surface of Caliban Cove," Griffith said. "Interesting, yes? Those clever designers even built it inside of a shipwreck, or they built the shipwreck around the lab, I forget ex…"Are you Thurman?" Such manners!Griffith smiled again, shaking his head. "No. That fat, hopeless creature standing to your left is Dr. Thurman. I am Nicolas Griffith. And you might be…?"
Before the young man could speak, the woman rolled her head up, a wobbling white face looking around in fixed, helpless hunger.
An infected one! "Thurman, take the woman and hold her," Griffith said quickly. He couldn't have her damaging the fine specimen Alan had managed to catch but as Thurman grabbed for the female, the young man resisted, pushing at Louis with fast, angry hands, a sneer of bravado on his face. Griffith felt a pulse of distress. "Alan, hit him!" Dr. Kinneson brought his hand up quickly, crack– ing the struggling youth a smart blow across the back of his skull; he stopped fighting just long enough for Thurman to pull the woman away. "She's gone," Griffith said forcefully, wondering why on earth anyone would want to hang on to one of those. "Look at her, can't you see she's not human anymore? She's one of Birkin's puppets, one of the pathetically altered hungry. A zombie. A Trisquad unit without training."
Even as Griffith spoke, a fascinating turn of events took place. The woman squirmed around in Thur– man's grasp and with one quick movement, darted forward and bit into Louis's face. She pulled back with a thick, bloody mouthful of his cheek and started to chew enthusiastically.
"Karen, oh my God, no…"
For as upset as he sounded, the young man didn't move to do anything about it. For that matter, neither did Louis. The doctor stood calmly, blood pouring down his face, watching the T-Virus drone lustily swallow the piece of tender flesh. Griffith was trans-fixed. "Look at that," he said softly. "Not a grimace ot pain, not a flutter of emotion… smile, Louis!"
Thurman grinned even as the woman lunged for– ward again, managing to snag his protruding lower lip. With a wet, tearing sound, the lip ripped away, exposing an even wider grin. Blood gushed. The woman chewed.
Amazing. Absolutely breathtaking.
The young man was quivering, his deep tan under– shot with a sickly pallor. He didn't seem to appreciate what he was seeing, and Griffith realized that he probably wouldn't; the woman must have been a friend.
Too bad. Pearls before swine…
"Alan, take hold of our young man, and hold him
tightly."
The youth didn't struggle, too absorbed in the apparent horror that he was experiencing. The female got another piece of cheek, and Louis's smile wa– vered, probably from muscle trauma. As much as Griffith wanted to continue watching, there was work to be done. The young man's other friends might manage to put down the Ma7s and if they succeeded with that, they might come looking for their bright young man. But by then, he'll be my bright young man…
Griffith walked to a counter and picked up a measured syringe, tapping the side of it with one finger. He turned to the silent guest, wondering if he should reveal his brilliant scheme for catching his friends. Wasn't that what "villains" always did in movies? He considered it only briefly, then decided against it; he'd always considered it a foolish plot point. And he was far from villainous. It was they who had invaded his sanctuary, threatened his plans for creating worldwide peace. There was no question who the evildoers were in this story. The young Hispanic was still watching the bizarre luncheon, his mouth literally hanging open in dismay; Karen was swallowing Thurman's nose, and making quite a mess. He'd have to dispose of her before Louis's arms gave out, though that gave him plenty of time. Stepping forward quickly, Griffith
jabbed the nee– dle into the youth's burly arm and depressed the plunger. Only then did he struggle, his shocked gaze turning to Griffith, his body twisting and flailing. One of Alan's arms seemed to give a little, but he had a good, tight hold on the fighting Hispanic. Griffith smiled into his face, shaking his head. "Relax," he said soothingly. "In just a few moments, you won't feel a thing."
Slowly, too slowly, they backed toward the chamber they'd started in, the lizard-creatures following, care– ful not to step into view, screaming their terrible song. John kept thinking of Karen and Steve, led off to God knew where by the Umbrella doc, and wished desper– ately that the monsters would just charge. He felt the moments slipping by, moments that may have already cost Karen her only chance, moments in which Steve might be fighting for his life…
Come on, you stupid shits! We're right here, free lunch! Come on!
They'd tried yelling, tried firing and stamping their feet, but the creatures wouldn't take the bait. Once, David had tried to fake them out, the three of them slipping back around a corner and when the big lizards had skulked through the tunnel after them, they'd jumped back around and started blasting. John got a single round into one of them, and they'd seen that there were only two of the beasts left, but both had gotten to cover before any serious damage had been done, and hadn't fallen for the ploy again. "Sly bastards," John snarled for about the twenti-eth time, backing up as quickly as he could. "What the hell are they waiting for?"
Neither Rebecca nor David answered, since they'd already discussed it, talking over the creeping shrieks of the stalking monsters. They were waiting for the three of them to turn around. After what felt like an eternity of slow motion, of backing through the empty tunnel one sliding step at a time, they heard the distant, familiar sound of the cavernous chamber they'd left – muffled waves and thundering vibrations as background to the echoing howls.
Thank God, thank God, how long? Fifteen, twenty minutes? "When we get into the open, flank the tunnel," David said tightly. "I'm going to turn and run, draw them out…"