ping!
… and it brought its spiked left hand down just as Claire slammed the switch, her eyes squeezed closed, sure that the world was about to disappear in a blizzard of pain… … as the creature shot away from her, roaring, the empty crates lifting it off its feet, powering it away. Before she could begin to accept that the plan was working, the creature used one of its incredible bursts of speed and got in front of the barreling container, just enough to get some leverage, to push against it –
-but Claire didn't wait to see which force was greater. She opened fire again, two, three bullets hitting it in the head, bouncing harmlessly off its armored skull, but distracting it, too. The creature struggled another half second and then it and the two crates were gone, plunging into the dusky sky. Claire stared out at the passing stream of atmosphere for a time, knowing she should feel limp with relief, that she'd killed the monster, that she'd survived another Umbrella disaster, that they were finally, finally safe … but she was simply wrung out, any possibility for strong emotion having flown out the back along with Mr. X's big brother. 'Please, let it be over,' she said softly, and then turned and opened the door back into the cockpit. As she hopped the two steps up to the pilot area, Steve glanced back her, frowning. 'What happened? Is everything okay?' Claire nodded, flopping down in the seat next to him, absolutely beat. 'Yeah. Score one more for the good guys. Oh, the rear cargo hatch is gone.' 'Are you kidding?' Steve asked. 'Nope,' Claire said, and yawned widely, suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue. 'Hey, I'm going to rest my eyes for a minute. If I fall asleep, wake me up in five, okay?' 'Sure,' Steve said, still looking confused. 'The hatch is gone?'
Claire didn't answer him, the dark already rushing up to claim her, her body melting into the seat… … and then Steve was shaking her, repeating her name over and over again.
'Claire! Claire!' 'Yeah,' she mumbled, sure she hadn't slept as she cracked her eyes open, wondering why Steve would want to torture her like this until she saw his expression, and a bolt of alarm jolted her awake. 'What, what is it?' she asked, sitting up straight. Steve looked really worried. 'Like a minute ago, we changed direction and then the controls suddenly locked down,' he said. 'I don't know what it is, there's no radio but everything else is still working fine except I can't steer, or alter altitude or speed. It's like it's stuck on autopilot.'
Before she could say a word, there was a crackling static sound from a small video monitor mounted close to the ceiling of the cockpit, one Claire hadn't noticed before. Flickering distortion lines spread out across the screen, but the picture, when it came in, was clear enough.
Alfred!
He was also flying, it seemed, belted into the front seat of a two-man fighter jet, or something similar. He still had smears of makeup on his face, his eyes rimmed in black, and when he spoke, it was in Alexia's voice. 'My apologies,' he purred, 'but I can't let you escape now. It seems you've eluded another of my playthings –
-naughty, naughty.' 'Cross-dressing freak,' Steve snapped, but Alfred either didn't hear him or didn't care. 'Enjoy the ride,' Alfred said, giggling, and with a final buzz of static, the screen went blank. Claire stared at Steve, who stared back helplessly, and then they both looked out over the sea of clouds, watching silently as the first shafts of sunlight broke through. Steve was dreaming about his father when he started awake suddenly, afraid for some reason, the dream slipping away even as he remembered where he was. Claire made a soft, sleepy sound in the back of her throat and nuzzled closer, her head against his left shoulder, her breath warm against his chest. Oh, Steve thought, afraid to move, not wanting to wake her up. They'd fallen asleep side-by-side leaning against the cockpit wall, and had apparently moved closer together at some point. He had no idea what time it was, or how long they'd slept, but they were still in the air, muted sunlight still coming in through the windows. They'd talked for a while after Alfred had taken control of the plane, but not about what they were going to do at the end of their hijacked ride. Claire had remarked that since they couldn't do anything about it, there was no point in worrying. Instead, they'd eaten Claire had nabbed a few packs of vending machine nuts, for which Steve would be eternally grateful and done their best to wash up using a little of the bottled water, and then talked. Really talked. She'd told him about going to Raccoon City to find Chris, and everything that had happened there and what she knew about Umbrella and Trent the spy-guy … and she'd told him a lot of other stuff, too. She was in college, and two years older than him, and she rode a motorcycle but was probably going to give it up because of how dangerous it was. She liked to dance so she liked dance music, but she also liked grange, and she thought politics were mostly boring, and cheeseburgers were her favorite food. She was totally, incredibly cool, the coolest girl he'd ever met and even better, she'd actually been interested in what he had to say. She'd laughed at a lot of his jokes, and thought it was cool that he ran track, and when he'd talked some about his parents, she'd listened without getting all pushy.
And she's so smart, and beautiful…
He looked down at her, at her tousled hair and long lashes, his heart pounding even though he was trying to relax. She moved again, shifting in her sleep, her head tilting back a little and her slightly parted lips were suddenly close enough for him to kiss, all he had to do was tip his face down a few inches, and he wanted to so bad that he actually started to do it, lowering his mouth toward hers… 'Mmmm,' she murmured, still totally asleep, and he stopped, pulling back, his heart beating even faster. He totally wanted to but not like that, not if she didn't want him to. He thought she did, but she'd also told him a little about her friend Leon, too, and he wasn't so sure that they were just friends. Feeling tortured, having her so close but not his, he was relieved when she rolled away from him a few seconds later. He stood up, stretching stiff legs, and walked to the front of the plane, wondering if the reserve fuel tank had been tapped yet, the thought of dealing with that crazy Ashford asshole once again drying up the last of his positive feelings. He hoped that Claire would sleep awhile longer, she'd been so tired… … until he saw what was outside, and read the heading, and realized that their altitude had dropped considerably. The plane was starting to pitch some, bucking, and no wonder. On the map reader next to the compass was an approximate latitude-longitude for their position.
'Claire, wake up! You gotta come see this!'
A few seconds later she was at his side, rubbing her eyes which widened considerably when she looked out the window. There was a near blizzard of ice and
snow pounding down, extending as far as they could see. 'We're over the Antarctic,' Steve said. 'As in the South Pole?' Claire asked, incredulous. She grabbed the back of the copilot seat as the plane roller-coastered. 'Penguins and killer whales, all that?' 'I don't know about the wildlife, but we're at a latitude of 82.17 South,' Steve said. 'Definitely the bottom of the world. And I'm not positive, but I think we're coming in for a landing. We're slowing down, anyway.'
Maybe Alfred's plan was to drop them in the middle of nowhere and let them freeze to death. Not flashy, but it would certainly do the trick. Steve wished he could get his bare hands on the guy for just a minute, just one. He wasn't much of a fighter, but Alfred would melt like a cream puff. 'We must be headed for that,' Claire said, pointing right, and Steve squinted, barely able to see through the storm … and then he saw the other planes, and the long, low buildings that she had spotted, only a few minutes away. 'You think it's one of Umbrella's?' Steve asked, knowing before she nodded that it had to be. Where else? The plane's nose continued to dip down, carrying them to whatever Alfred had in mind, but Steve was actually a little relieved. Meeting up with Umbrella again sucked, of course, but at least someone else would be in charge, and not every Umbrella employee was as shrink-wrapped as Alfred. He couldn't imagine that everyone would drop what they were doing to kiss Alfred's ass, either. Maybe he and Claire could find someone to bargain with, or bribe somehow… They were closing in for a first pass, the ride getting squirrelly, the wings probably heavy with ice when Steve realized that they were way too low, too low and too fast. The landing gear had dropped at some point, but there was no way they could land at their speed and altitude. 'Pull up, pull up…' Steve said, watching the buildings get big too quickly, feeling prickles of sweat breaking out all over. He slid into the pilot's chair, grabbing the yoke and pulling back and nothing happened.
Oh, man. 'Belt up, we're going to crash!' Steve shouted, grabbing for his own belt as Claire jumped into her seat, the buckles snapping shut just as they touched down and alarms started shrieking as the landing gear crumpled and tore away, the plane's belly slamming into the ground. The cabin bounced wildly, the seat belts the only thing keeping them from hitting the roof. Claire let out a yelp as a wave of snow crashed into the windshield, and there was a giant metal SCREECH behind them as the tail or a wing ripped away –
-and enough of the churning snow pack fell away from the glass for them to see the building in front of them, the out of control plane sliding for it, smoke coming from somewhere, they were going to hit and…
