trying to kill him.
He hit the creature as hard as he could, shoving the heel of his hand into its throat. It leaped away, landing on the mesh wall and clambering back up to the ceiling.
Wesker pulled himself up and stumbled on, fresh waves of pain and nausea washing over him. The air was too hot, the turbines loud and relentless in their spinning, throbbing frenzy, but he could see the door to the back now, the door that led to the completion of his mission.
All of the S.T.A.R.S., dead, blown into orbit while I escape, fly away a rich man…
He flung the door open and made his way toward the small, glowing screen in the back corner. It was quieter here, cooler. The massive machines that filled the chamber hummed softly at him, their purpose quite different than that of the ones outside. These were the machines that wanted to help him regain his control.
The noise from the open door behind him seemed far away as he reached the glowing screen, his fingers numb as they touched the keyboard beneath.
He found the keys he needed, the code spilling out across the monitor in soft green after only a few mistakes. A sexy, quiet voice informed him that the countdown would begin in thirty seconds. Dizzy, he tried to remember the setting for the timer. The system would trigger automatically in five minutes, but he had to reset it, give himself time to get reoriented and make his way to the outside.
Behind him, something screamed.
Wesker whirled around, confused-and saw four of the mesh-monkeys running at him, lashing out with long, curved hands as they reached him. Terrible pain shot up through his legs and he fell, crashing to the hard steel floor.
This can't happen.
One of the creatures jumped onto his chest and suddenly Wesker couldn't breathe, couldn't even raise his weak arms to push it away. Another tore into his left leg, ripping away a thick chunk of flesh with its hooked claw. The third and fourth screamed in savage glee, dancing around him like dark, vicious children, lifting their claws as they pranced on squat legs.
Somehow, there was blood in his eyes, and the world was spinning away, screams and hisses and incredible, searing heat blurring his vision, his mind.
Tyrant has come.
Wesker could feel it, could feel the presence of something vast and powerful touching him. Grinning through the pain, he searched for it through the red haze of his failing vision, wanting more than anything to see it slaughter his attackers in a glory of perfect motion, but he could only make out the immense shadow that seemed to flood over him, through him, could only imagine that the powerful, magnificent warrior was reaching down to lift him from his torment…
I control let me seeeee…
Darkness stole his hopes away, and Wesker thought no more. … S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team, Bravo, anybody – – you can't answer, try to signal! I'm running out of fuel, do you read? This is Brad! Repeat-S. T.A.R.S. Alpha team…
Rebecca hit the button, talking fast. Brad! There's a heliport at the Spencer estate, you have to get to the heliport! Brad, come in!
There was a high, whining squeal and Rebecca heard what must have been the word copy – but the rest was lost.
I copy? or, Do you copy?
There was no way to know. Frustrated and worried, Rebecca held on to the radio tightly, hoping that he'd heard her.
Suddenly, a shrill alarm blared into the silent room through some hidden speaker in the ceiling. Rebecca jumped, staring around the cold chamber helplessly.
There was a buzzing click from inside the door that led to the heliport and she hurried over, grabbing the handle and pulling it open. It had unlocked.
A cool, female voice began to speak, slowly and clearly over the jangling alarm.
The triggering system has now been activated. All personnel must evacuate immediately or process deactivation. You have five minutes. The triggering system has now been activated…
As the recorded message repeated, Rebecca stood in the open doorway and watched the open ladder shaft, her blood racing, waiting to see Chris emerge from the levels below.
He'd only been gone a few minutes, but their time had just run out.
TWENTY
Jill and barry ran from the elevator back toward the main hall of B3, the cool voice informing them that they had four and a half minutes.
They hit the open corridor at a dead run, sprinting around the corner and saw Chris Redfield halfway up the metal stairs.
Chris! Jill shouted.
He spun around, his face lighting up as he saw them dashing toward him.
Hurry! he shouted. There's a heliport on Bl!
Thank God!
Chris waited until they reached the base of the stairs and then ran ahead, rushing around the walkway and holding open the door that led to the ladder.
Jill and Barry made it to the top and sped through, the computer telling them that they had four minutes, fifteen seconds to get away.
Barry went up the ladder first and Jill followed, Chris right behind. They piled out into Bl. Jill saw that Rebecca Chambers was standing at the emergency exit, her youthful face tight with anxiety.
Chris hustled her through the door and the four of them ran through a winding concrete hall, Jill praying silently that they'd have time to clear the estate.
I hope you burn here, Wesker.
There was a large elevator at the end of the corridor and Barry slammed the gate open, holding it as they rushed inside. He jumped in after them. They had four minutes even.
The elevator seemed to crawl upward and Jill looked at her watch, heart pounding as the seconds ticked past.
Not gonna make it, we'll never make it.
The lift hummed to a stop and Chris yanked the gate open, the cool air of early morning sweeping over them and the sweet, wondrous sound of a helicopter overhead, circling.
He heard me! Rebecca shouted, and Jill grinned, feeling a sudden wave of affection for the rookie.
The helicopter port was huge, the wide, flat space surrounded by high walls, a circle of yellow paint on the asphalt showing Brad where to set down. Barry and Chris both waved their arms frantically, signaling the pilot to hurry as Jill looked at her watch again. A little over three and a half minutes remained. More than enough time…
CRASH!
Jill whirled around, saw chunks of concrete and tar fly into the air and rain down over the northwest corner of the landing pad. A giant claw stretched up from the hole, fell across the jagged lip and the pale, hulking Tyrant leaped out onto the heliport, rose smoothly from its agile crouch… and started toward them.
What the hell is that?
It had to be eight feet tall, parts of its giant body mutilated and deformed, its grinning face focusing on them even as it stood up. It moved toward them at a slow walk, the massive claw of its left arm flexing.
No time, Brad can't land.
Chris targeted the dark, tumorous thing on its chest and fired, pulling the trigger five times in rapid succession, three of the rounds finding their mark.
The other two were within an inch of the pulsing Redness… and the creature didn't even slow down.
Scatter! Barry yelled.
The S.T.A.R.S. split, Jill pulling Rebecca to the farthest corner from the towering monster, Chris sprinting toward the southern wall. Barry stood his ground, pointing his Colt at the approaching beast.
Three.357 rounds slammed into its belly, the thundering shots echoing against the high concrete walls.
