mercilessly away at him, reminding him of his treachery.
You're a liar, Barry, using your friends the way Wesker's using you, playing on their trust. You could've told them what was really going on, let them help you put a stop to it.
Barry shook the thoughts away as he reached the door to the covered walk, slamming the heavy metal aside. He couldn't risk it, wouldn 't – what if Wesker had been nearby, had overheard? The captain had Barry's family to blackmail him with, but once Chris and the others knew the truth, what was to stop Wesker from just killing them? If he helped Wesker destroy the evidence, the S.T.A.R.S. wouldn't be able to prove anything, the captain could just let them all walk away.
Barry reached the diagram next to the back door and stopped, staring. Relief flooded through him, cool and sweet. Three of the four openings were filled, the sun, wind, and star crests in place. It was over.
He can get to the lab now, call off his people, he doesn 't need us anymore! I can go back in and keep the team busy while he does whatever he has to do, the RPD will show eventually and we can forget this ever happened.
He was so elated that he didn't register the muted footsteps on the stone path behind him, didn't realize that he wasn't alone anymore until Wesker's smooth voice spoke up beside him.
Why don't you finish the puzzle, Mr. Burton?
Barry jumped, startled. He glared at Wesker, loathing the smug, bland face behind the sunglasses.
Wesker smiled, nodding his head at the copper crest in Barry's hand.
Yeah, right, Barry muttered darkly, and slipped the final piece into place. There was a thick metallic sound from inside the door, ka-chink and Wesker walked past him, pushing the door open to reveal a small, well-used tool shed. Barry peered inside, saw the exit at the opposite wall. There was no diagram set next to it, no more crazy puzzles to figure out.
Kathy and the girls were safe.
With a low bow, Wesker motioned for Barry to step inside the shed, still smiling.
Time's short, Barry, and there's still a lot for us to do.
Barry stared at him, confused. What do you mean? You can get to the lab now.
Well, there's been a slight change of plans. See, it turns out that I need to find something else, and I have an idea of where it might be, but there are some dangers involved… and you've done such a good job so far, I want you to come along.
Wesker's smile transformed into a shark-like grin, a cold, pitiless reminder of what was at stake.
In fact, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to insist on it.
After a long, terrible moment, Barry nodded helplessly.
THIRTEEN
My dearest Alma, I sit here trying to think of where to begin, of how to explain in a few simple words all that's happened in my life since we last spoke, and already I fail. I hope this letter finds you well and whole, and that you will forgive the tangents of my pen; this isn't easy for me. Even as I write, I can feel the simplest of concepts slipping away, lost to feelings of despair and confusion, but I have to tell you what's in my heart before I can rest. Be patient, and accept that what I tell you is the truth.
The entire story would take hours for me to tell you, and time is short, so accept these things as fact: last month there was an accident in the lab and the virus we were studying escaped. All my colleagues who were infected are dead or dying, and the nature of the disease is such that those still living have lost their senses. This virus robs its victims of their humanity, forcing them in their sickness to seek out and destroy life. Even as I write these words, I can hear them, pressing against my locked door like mindless, hungry animals, crying out like lost souls.
There aren't words true enough, deep enough to describe the sorrow and shame that I feel knowing that I had a hand in their creation. I believe that they feel nothing now, no fear or pain, but that they can't experience the horror of what they've become doesn't free me of my terrible burden.
I am, in part, responsible for this nightmare that surrounds me.
In spite of the guilt that is burned into my very being, that will haunt my every breath, I might have tried to survive, if only to see you again. But my best efforts only delayed the inevitable; I am infected, and there is no cure for what will follow – except to end my life before I lose the only thing that separates me from them. My love for you.
Please understand. Please know that I'm sorry.
Martin Crackhorn Jill sighed, laying the crumpled paper gently on the desk. The creatures were victims of their own research. It seemed she'd had the right idea about what had happened in the mansion, though reading the heartfelt letter put a serious damper on any pride she might have taken from her deduction skills. After placing the sun crest, she'd decided that the upstairs office merited a closer look and with a little digging, she'd found the final scrawled testament of Crackhorn, tucked in a drawer.
Crackhorn, Martin Crackhorn – that was one of the names on Trent's list…
Jill frowned, walking slowly back to the office door.
For some reason, Trent wanted the S.T.A.R.S. to figure out what had happened at the mansion before anyone else did, but with as much as he obviously knew about it, why not just tell them outright? And what did he stand to gain by telling them anything at all?
She stepped through the office's small foyer and back out into the hall, still frowning. Barry had been acting strange before, and she needed to find out why.
Maybe she could get a straight answer if she just asked him outright… …or maybe not. Either way, it'll tell me something.
Jill stopped by the back stairs, taking a deep breath and realized that something was different.
She looked around uncertainly, trying to figure out what it was her senses were telling her.
It's warmer. Just a little, but it's definitely warmer.
And the air isn't quite as stale…
Like someone had opened a window. Or maybe a door.
Jill turned and jogged down the stairs, suddenly anxious to check the puzzle lock. Reaching the bottom of the steps, she saw that the door connecting one hall to the next was standing open. She could hear crickets singing faintly, feel the fresh night air wafting toward her through the frigid mustiness of the house.
She hurried to the darker corridor and hooked a right, trying not to get her hopes up. Another sharp right and she could see the door that led to the covered walkway standing open.
Maybe that's all it is, it doesn't mean the puzzle's solved.
Jill broke into a run, feeling the clean warmth of summer air against her skin as she rounded the corner in the stone path and let out a short, triumphant laugh as she saw the four placed crests next to the open door. A warm breeze was flowing through the room that the puzzle had unlocked, a small storage shed for gardening tools. The metal door on the wall opposite was standing open, and Jill could see moonlight playing across a brick wall just past the rusted hinges.
Barry had been right, the door led outside. They'd be able to get help now, find a safe route through the woods or at least signal.
But if Barry found the missing pieces, why didn't he come looking for me?
Jill's grin faded as she stepped into the shed, absently taking in the dusty boxes and barrels that lined the gray stone walls. Barry had known where she was, had suggested himself that she take the second floor of the west wing…
So maybe it wasn 't Barry who opened the door.
True, it could've been Chris or Wesker or one of the Bravos. If that was the case, she should probably go back in and look for Barry.
Or investigate a little first, make sure it's worth the effort.
It was a bit of a rationalization, but she had to admit to herself that the thought of returning to the mansion with a possible escape in front of her wasn't all that enticing. She unholstered her Beretta and walked toward the outer door, her decision made.
The first thing she noticed was the sound of rushing water over the soft forest noises that filled the cooling air, like a waterfall. The second and third were the bodies of the two dogs that lay across the irregular stone path, shot to death.
