Chapter 37
“How far is it, Barry?” Jill asked.
Barry examined the map once last time. “Not far,” he said with a sigh. “Looks like it’s just around this next corner.”
Jill broke into her first smile in hours. Granted, they weren’t exactly out of the fire yet, because Raccoon City was still a long way away. But getting out of the labs was the first step. If a road led away from the elevator entrance, and it seemed likely that one would, they could use it to get back to a main road that would take them back to the city. They would probably still have a few hours to go until they were completely safe, but the hard part was nearly over.
Jill, Barry, Chris, and Rebecca went down the hall and around the corner. A short way down the hall was another corner, but before they even reached it, Jill got the sudden feeling that something was wrong. It seemed kind of odd to put an elevator way at the end of a hallway like this. If there was an actual emergency, it would be best to put an emergency exit where everyone could get to it easily. It didn’t make sense for the emergency elevator to be in a location like this. And as they approached the doorway, she saw that it wasn’t an elevator at all.
Barry carefully arranged to be walking behind the others, and as they reached the door, he ushered them all through and paused right in the doorway.
“Wait a minute ...” Jill started to say.
It was just another lab room like all the others, if smaller and more crowded than most. The room was roughly square, and each side wall was lined with rows of machines and tables set up with chemical apparatus. The center of the room was also stacked with machines and various other devices. The far wall held a growth tank, and within the tank ...
“Oh my God,” Jill whispered.
Suddenly, a figure rose from behind some of the machines at the other side of the room. It was as if he had been lying on the floor and now stood up casually, one of his hands adjusting the mirrored sunglasses that were always on his face. He looked the same as he always did, but there was something different, something wrong.
“Good job, Barry,” Wesker said.
Before anyone could react, Barry jumped forward and pulled out his gun.
But Wesker moved faster, his arm moving too fast for the eye to follow. In the blink of an eye, he drew his own gun and opened fire. He moved faster than anything Jill had ever seen. She screamed and ducked for cover, as did Chris and Rebecca.
Barry’s gun boomed once and then he staggered back, blood erupting from his upper chest. Wesker’s bullets rang out like machine gun fire, striking the wall behind him as he tumbled to the floor, his body falling limp.
“Rebecca!” Chris shouted.
But she was already at Barry’s side, scrambling to pull her equipment from her pockets. Medical patches, packets of clotting material. She went to her knees beside Barry and ripped open a packet of clotting powder, spreading it all over the gunshot wound, her hands moving quickly. In another second, she pressed a patch against the wound.
Chris stuck his arm above the machinery and fired blindly in Wesker’s direction. The bullets all missed their mark. Wesker returned fire, his bullets shattering glass beakers and test tubes lined up on the tables. Broken glass rained down on Chris.
Jill drew her gun and turned to look at Barry, and saw the electric door to the lab was sliding shut. She dove forward and stuck her arm into the closing gap, and the door closed right on her upper arm. She panicked for a moment, thinking the door would cut her arm right off, but the motor was not that powerful. The door simply stopped on her arm and continued to push, trying to close all the way.
“I need something to block the door!” she cried.
Chris reached up and swept his arm along the top of the table nearest him. Beakers, metal cups, and other equipment crashed to the floor, and he tossed one of the metal cups to Jill. She wedged it into the gap in the door and pried her arm free, setting the cup in place to keep the door from closing completely.
As soon as she was done, she crawled over to Barry. He grunted in pain as Rebecca forced down on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The bullet passed directly above the bulletproof vest and blown clean through Barry’s collarbone. His entire neck was sprayed with blood, making it look much worse than it was. But in Jill’s mind, all she saw was Enrico with a much similar injury, gradually bleeding to death.
“Sorry ...I lied to you ... he took my family ...” he gasped.
“Your family?” Jill said in shock.
“Took them hostage ... threatened to ... kill them if I ... didn’t help him ... I had no choice ... didn’t want it to ... end like this ...”
Jill grabbed Barry’s hand and he squeezed back, gritting his teeth against the pain. “You should have told us,” Jill said. “We could have come up with something.”
“Just kill him,” Barry said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Wesker’s voice suddenly came from the other side of the room. “Is that you, Barry? Are you still alive? I thought for sure that I killed you with that shot. Guess my aim is off.”
“Wesker!” Chris screamed furiously. “You’re out of your mind! You’re a traitor! How could you betray us like that?! How could you?!”
“Didn’t Barry tell you?” Wesker asked, his voice sounding strange. “Oh, I guess he must not have, or else you wouldn’t even be here.”
“What the hell are you talking about?!”
“I’ve worked for Umbrella since I was nineteen. I’m the research supervisor for this entire lab complex. I joined the police ten years ago to spy on them.”
Wesker’s strange, unexpected confession stunned the others into silence. Chris just stared at the floor in disbelief, and Jill glanced at Barry for some kind of response. The only one who remained focused was Rebecca, who concentrated on stopping Barry’s bleeding.
Wesker used the lull to get up and open fire once more. His arm jerked around robotically, spraying bullets all over the other end of the room. Jill ducked down and covered her head as more broken glass and equipment crashed down. The metal door clanged loudly as bullets struck it. But somehow, no one was hit in Wesker’s outburst.
Jill leaned out from around some machines and pulled the trigger. Her shots missed, but they at least made Wesker duck for cover. Chris stuck his arm up again and fired once more, his shots also going wide. He quickly reloaded and peeked above the table. Wesker saw him and fired, and Chris ducked down once more as the bullet clanged into the metal tabletop.
Jill had a clean shot, but her hand was not steady enough. She pulled the trigger, but instead of hitting Wesker in the chest, the bullet struck him in the forearm. He howled in pain and went to the ground.
“You shot me! I don’t believe it!” he shouted, his voice once more sounding very strange. His voice quavered unsteadily, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Jill, was that you?”
Jill braced herself behind the machine and swallowed nervously. She glanced at Chris, who was moving carefully around the edge of the machine. She wondered how many bullets remained among them.
“I know it was you, Jill!” Wesker shouted when she didn’t respond. “Hey, I just want you to know that I’m sorry about that thing with Enrico. You weren’t supposed to be there. You actually almost shot me when I was hiding in that room.”
Jill could not believe her ears. Was Wesker completely out of his mind? He killed Enrico, shot Barry, and was trying to shoot the rest of them. And he was actually apologizing for Jill being there to witness Enrico’s death! Had Wesker lost all hold on reality?
Chris jumped up and shot at Wesker again. His bullets struck the machines Wesker was hiding behind, causing them to spark and smoke. Wesker’s arm stuck out and he fired back, making Chris take cover once more. Wesker got out and casually walked across his side of the lab, firing as he went. Jill fired at him, but he barely reacted.
Chris stuck his arm up and fired blindly again.
Jill wanted to shout at him angrily not to waste his ammunition, but her voice froze as one of Chris bullets struck the huge glass tank. The glass cracked, and water sprayed from the hole. Jill stared in horror as the creature inside the tank stirred and started to move.
“Chris!” she shrieked.
“Good one, Chris!” Wesker laughed. “Now you’ve really done it!”
The giant creature in the tank began to move around, its thick arms bumping into the glass. Independent sensors must have noticed the hole in the glass, because in a few seconds, the water drained completely out of the tank. The creature gradually seemed to awaken and started pushing harder against the inside of the tank. Jill noticed with growing fear that one of the monster’s hands was nothing more than a misshapen club.
“What is that thing?” Chris shouted. “Another one of your experiments?”
“It’s called a Tyrant!” Wesker cried triumphantly. “I wish I had more time to tell you about it, but I don’t think you’ll live that long! You woke it up, and it probably isn’t very happy with you!”
With a loud crack, the glass tank seemed to split in two. Jill and Chris watched in descending terror as the albino giant reared back and swung its massive arm into the glass, shattering right through it. The glass exploded outward at first, and then the entire tank seemed to topple over. The Tyrant barely seemed to notice as the tank shattered around it, crashing to the floor.
The Tyrant examined its newfound freedom and stepped down off the base of the tank. Its movements were slow and methodical, not like the wild movements of the woman in chains, or the frenzied speed of the lizardlike hunters. Jill could not help but compare it to the staggering movements of Frankenstein’s monster. But there was no hint of clumsiness or poor motor control in the Tyrant. It moved slowly because its body was not built for speed, not because it could not control itself. It did not walk in a jerky, robotic motion at all, as Jill first expected. Its movements were sure and determined, but very slow due to the creature’s size and stature.
Chris grabbed Jill’s arm, forcing her to look away. “We have to get out of here,” he said. “Help me get that door open.”
Chris grabbed the door edge and pulled, while Jill braced herself against the frame and pushed. The electric motor whined, but slowly, the door eased itself open. When there was enough room, Jill stuck her body in the door and pushed with her feet.
The Tyrant seemed not to notice them at first, but soon began to walk forward, one slow step at a time, its feet crunching on the broken glass all over the floor. Its legs were so long that each step spanned five feet. It would only take it five or six steps to reach the other side of the room.
“You’d better hurry up!” Wesker laughed. “I don’t think it’s coming over to say hello!”
Suddenly, the Tyrant stopped in mid-stride. It turned its massive body to look at Wesker, and then took a step in his direction. Jill and Chris watched in sudden elation as the Tyrant began walking away from them.
Wesker, on the other hand, panicked and scrambled into the corner of the room as soon as the Tyrant noticed he was there. He pulled out his gun and frantically opened fire, pulling the trigger until the gun was empty. The loud gunshots only seemed to enrage the Tyrant more, and the bullets barely even made an impact on its body. In two steps, the Tyrant made it to the corner.
“No! Not me! You’re supposed to kill them! Not me! Them!” Wesker screamed in terror. “You’re supposed to kill them!”
Wesker made a desperate lunge behind the machinery at the back of the room as the Tyrant reached him. But the Tyrant moved surprisingly quickly, and grabbed Wesker’s arm in its huge fist. Even from the other end of the room, Jill clearly heard the sickening crunch as the Tyrant broke Wesker’s arm with no effort at all.
Wesker screamed in pain as the Tyrant lifted him into the air. Wesker tried to struggle, but the Tyrant held him up as if he weighed nothing, and with a broken arm, Wesker could only dangle there helplessly. He feebly struck the Tyrant’s arm with his fist, crying and screaming incoherently, his whole body shaking in tortured pain.
“No!” he screamed. “I made you! I made you! You can’t kill me!”
The Tyrant raised its club hand and seemed to flex the muscles in its arm. There was a sudden ripping noise, and a foot-long spike of bone jutted suddenly from the stump of its hand. A clear fluid squirted from the base of the spike, and dripped disgustingly to the floor.
Wesker’s screams increased and he maniacally tried to wrench himself free of the Tyrant’s grip, even with his arm crushed in its viselike hand. Throughout all of it, the Tyrant’s face remained completely still, as if it was incapable of showing any emotion, even anger.
The four S.T.A.R.S. members watched in sick fascination and horror as the Tyrant reared its spike back and thrust it directly into Wesker’s chest in one clean movement. The spike burst out Wesker’s back, smeared with blood. Wesker screamed one last time and thrashed about, and then his scream went to a gurgle and he went completely still. Blood gushed from his torso, splashing onto the Tyrant’s body. Jill felt bile rising in her stomach, sickened by the hideous scene in front of her. But at the same time, she felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at Wesker’s horrible death.
He got exactly what he deserved.
The Tyrant let go of Wesker’s arm and let his bloody body hang from the spike for a few moments, as if getting a closer look at him. Then the Tyrant merely swung its arm and hurled Wesker’s limp body to the other side of the room. It spun in the air and slammed into a tall metal shelf covered in more metal trays and glass beakers. His body tumbled to the floor like a rag doll, the entire shelf coming down with him.
The Tyrant stared at Wesker’s body for a moment, and then resumed its original course. It began walking toward Jill and the others, who were so transfixed by Wesker’s death that they almost forgot about trying to escape.
“Come on!” Chris shouted. Together, they managed to get the door completely open. Jill stuck her pistol into the bottom of the door frame, jamming the door so it would not close.
Rebecca kept pressure on the gunshot wound the entire time, and now she tried to get Barry into a sitting position. He pushed her away gently, and Chris knelt by his side.
“Come on, Barry. Time to get out of here,” he said urgently.
“Can’t,” Barry grunted, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “... Never get out of here ... can barely move ...”
“No, we can get you out of here. We’ll carry you if we have to –”
“Too late for me ... Get out while you can ...”
Chris shook his head emphatically. “No, we’re not leaving you here.”
“Please, Barry,” Jill urged.
Barry coughed up more blood. “I know my family is dead ... I have nothing to ... go back to ...”
“No,” Chris whispered, leaning closer. “You can’t mean that, you can’t expect me to just leave you here.”
Barry smiled weakly. “You have to ... get Jill and Rebecca out of here ... You have to ... tell everyone what happened ... Just promise me something ...”
“Anything,” Chris said, taking hold of Barry’s hand.
“Don’t let them ... cover it up ... Don’t let Umbrella get away with it ...” Barry’s face hardened and he clenched his teeth in pain. “Promise me ... that you’ll make them pay ... for everything they’ve done.”
Tears were already streaming down Chris’s face. “I promise,” he whispered, squeezing Barry’s hand. “I promise ...”
Barry handed his map to Jill and jabbed his finger at it, leaving a bloody fingerprint. “There’s the elevator ... not too far from here ... you can make it ...”
The Tyrant was already halfway across the room. Chris gave Barry his pistol and stood up on shaking legs. Rebecca looked down at Barry but said nothing, and then headed out the door. Jill took the map and leaned forward to kiss Barry’s forehead. “
We won’t let you down,” she said. “I promise, we’ll make Umbrella pay for this.”
There was no time to say their final goodbyes. The Tyrant was almost upon them. Jill pulled Chris away and forced him out the door, where they ran to catch up with Rebecca.
Barry watched them go, tears dripping down his own face. He could only pray that they would make it out alive. If they died, then it had truly all been for nothing. But if they made it, he knew that Chris would keep his word. They would make Umbrella pay for this, pay for all the senseless death and misery. That small fact made him feel better.
He thought about his wife and daughters. He would be with them soon.
Turning his attention back to the Tyrant, who was only a few feet away, Barry raised his Colt in one hand and Chris’s Beretta in the other. As the Tyrant reached down toward him, he began pulling the triggers.
But he only got a few shots out before it was all over.