Resident Evil. Retribution

by John Shirley

  “Carl” Luther shouted.

  Instead of slowing, Alice accelerated—drove straight on instead of turning, apparently intent on hitting the other vehicle.

  Too late to do anything but brace for impact.

  Then Alice jogged the wheel and hit the brakes, doing a “bootlegger reverse.” The car spun around through a sickening 180 degrees, but avoiding the pursuing Licker—which couldn’t stop. It did so suddenly as it hit something with a sickening crunch.

  It wasn’t another car that had been coming at them—it was the Rolls, reflected in the mirror. The creature smashed through the glass, and was flailing wildly. Luther hoped it was cut to pieces.

  He held on as Alice squealed the car around, sent it burning down a side street. Then he turned to Barry with a “did you see that?” look—and was surprised when Barry high-fived him.

  “I can see why we came for her,” Barry said.

  But Leon was scowling.

  “Where’s Ada?” he demanded, leaning toward Alice.

  She shook her head sadly.

  “I don’t think she made it,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  Leon took a long ragged breath.

  “You saw her die?” he asked.

  “No,” Alice admitted.

  Leon nodded to himself, and he actually seemed to relax.

  “She always has a plan.”

  At that moment the rear window shattered in a sudden fusillade of bullets. There were two flatbed trucks pursuing them, one mounted with a rocket launcher, the other with a machine-gun turret—the vehicles they’d seen at the Red Square, driven by plague soldiers.

  Persistent bastards, Luther thought. But what else are they going to do? Go bowling?

  The machine gunner opened up again, and bullets hammered the back of the Rolls. It wouldn’t take much more of this kind of bullet storm, Luther mused.

  “Boys,” Alice said coolly, “would you mind?” There was an odd strain to her voice, though—as if she was in pain.

  “Shall we?” Leon said to Barry, like a gentleman asking another if he’d like to go duck hunting.

  “My pleasure,” Barry responded, clamping his perpetually unlit cigar in a corner of his mouth. He leaned out the back of the shattered back window and fired his machine rifle, Leon followed suit.

  “This is for Sergei, you pricks,” he muttered.

  The machine gunner lost the top of his head in one of Barry’s bursts—but he was quickly replaced by another. Leon aimed very carefully at the muzzle of the RPG launcher—and fired when he saw the flash of its ignition. His rounds impacted neatly with the rocket-propelled grenade, before it had quite exited the barrel. The whole assembly exploded, tearing the Undead gunman apart.

  Luther didn’t have much ammo—he looked for a shot but he was afraid he might hit Leon or Luther. So he leaned out of his shattered side window, and fired at the pursuing trucks, trying to hit the drivers.

  Driving furiously, screaming through turns, trying to evade her pursuers, Alice noticed a Las Plagas Undead riding a motorcycle, pulling up close to her, a machine pistol in his right hand. She ducked as he fired and a spray of bullets knocked out her side window.

  She lifted up enough to see, and jerked the wheel in order to sideswipe the motorcycle. That sent it crashing into a newsstand, where the bike flipped over and slammed down on the Undead like a hammer.

  Then she veered around a burning wreck in the street, looked in the mirror, and saw another RPG launcher pop up from the back of the flatbed that held the machine gun. There was a flash, a puff of smoke, and she saw the rocket streaking toward the rear of the Rolls.

  Timing it carefully, she jogged the steering wheel so the Rolls swerved and the rocket whipped on by, passing the car and exploding in the street up ahead. There was no choice but to drive right through the ensuing fireball and Luther—leaning out a window to fire at their pursuers—shouted a curse as the flames licked around the sedan.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  He pulled back into the vehicle, driven in by the blast. He slapped some small flames out on his coat, and turned to Alice.

  “Let me know when you plan on doing that again,” he growled.

  Alice glanced in the rear-view mirror—and saw another RPG round rocketing toward them on a tail of fire.

  “Heads up!” she called out, and she jogged the wheel again so the projectile exploded beside the Rolls, making the car rock.

  She jerked the wheel into a sharp turn, taking them into the midst of Red Square—and saw a motorcycle coming straight at her on a collision course. The Undead rider was firing a machine gun over the handlebars as it came. Bullets sparked off the hood.

  “Down!” Alice shouted, ducking. Luther and the other men ducked down just as the front windshield imploded, and bullets flashed over their heads.

  She peered over the top of the steering wheel, saw the motorcycle about to impact with the Silver Phantom. She spun the Rolls into a 180-degree slide, opened her heavily built side door—and smashed it into the motorcycle. Acting like a fly swatter, it flattened the Undead, knocking him and his bike into a twisted, spinning heap of bloody, burning slag.

  Alice spun the car again, back on course… and Barry spoke up.

  “Guess who’s back.”

  In her rear-view mirror, she could see that the giant Licker had found its way back to her. It was in hot pursuit.

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  The gigantic Licker was gaining. It was mangled, badly cut up from crashing into the mirror wall. And it looked seriously pissed off. She wasn’t going to be able to shake it—not the way she’d been doing it. And if they happened upon the Las Plagas soldiers again, chances are their luck would run out.

  They couldn’t survive another hailstorm of bullets.

  She was going to have to do something extreme— for a change. And she saw exactly what she needed, up ahead.

  The Red Square Metro station.

  “Almost there!” Alice shouted.

  “Where?” Luther asked.

  She looked in the mirror again. The Licker was closer yet—shoving the pursuing Undead out of the way, crashing their vehicles into the ornate walls of the Resurrection Gate. The gigantic pink mutant was one good bound away from leaping on the Rolls, big enough to smash what was left of the Silver Phantom.

  No time to do this delicately.

  “Hold on—this is going to get bad!”

  “It’s going to ‘get’ bad?” Luther laughed bitterly. But she didn’t bother to respond.

  Alice slammed on the gas, crashed through a construction site at the edge of the square, and jumped off a ramp of piled chunks of asphalt. The Rolls soared twenty feet off the ground, arcing through the air, coming down with a squealing, bone-rattling crash at seventy miles per hour.

  And then it plunged down the steps that led to the Metro.

  Luther, Barry, and Leon yelled as the car bounced and clattered down the steps, their shouts wavering like yodels with the impacts on the stairs. They all held onto whatever was handy, their heads whipping around with every impact. Alice gripped the steering wheel, got a jerky glimpse in the rear-view mirror of the mangled Licker, still following her down into the underground station.

  If it caught up, it would leap onto the Rolls, rip it open like a sardine tin, and begin feasting.

  At the bottom of the stairs was an archway that appeared to be under repair—heavy stones curved along the arch. Scaffolding held up part of the ceiling. The car reached the bottom, and ignoring the shooting pain in her side, she deliberately slammed it into the scaffolding—just as the Licker leapt.

  Alice slammed her foot down on the accelerator and crashed through the scaffolding, knocking it down behind the Rolls. The stone arch it had held up was knocked down with it. Tons of stone and girders dropped onto the Licker, burying it and plugging up the tunnel behind her. A cloud of dust rose up around the falling debris.

  She ground the car to a halt and looked back. The Licker was at least half buried.
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  That should slow it down.

  “Everyone okay?” she asked, looking at Luther. He looked as if he might be sick to his stomach.

  “We’ll live,” Leon said.

  “Time to get out and walk,” Luther said.

  Alice led the way, carrying the hook gun that Ada had given her, as well as the machine pistol. Not far down the tunnel they came to an abandoned station

  “Hello!” Alice called. “You can come out now!”

  The Rain clone and a little girl emerged from the darkness at the other end of the tunnel, where they’d been hiding. The girl ran straight to Alice and threw her arms around her waist. Alice hugged her.

  “She was very brave,” Rain said.

  Luther looked with undisguised surprise at the little girl holding onto Alice.

  “Who’s this?” he asked.

  “I’m Becky,” the girl signed.

  “Becky…” Alice murmured. Suddenly she realized that it was the first time she had heard the name— though it sounded familiar.

  That strange telepathic dream…

  “I’m very pleased to meet you,” Becky signed. She indicated Alice. “This is my mom.”

  Alice translated.

  “She says she’s Becky, she’s pleased to meet you, and…” She sighed. “I’m ‘her mom.’”

  Luther looked at her with eyebrows raised.

  “Her mom?”

  “Long story,” Alice said, and she really didn’t feel like telling it.

  Leon stepped up to them, pointing at his countdown watch.

  “Twenty-two minutes left.” Everyone looked back at the collapsed archway—they could hear the sound of claws on metal and stone; the muffled squeal of frustrated mutant. Alice thought she saw the tip of a cablelike serrated pink tongue, licking out through a crevice in the fallen masonry. The Licker was still alive—and trying to break through.

  “There’s no going back the way we came,” Luther pointed out.

  “And we lost the map with Sergei,” Barry said, nodding.

  “I’ve got it!” Alice said. She took out the spectacles Ada had given her, pulling them from a pocket of her battle suit. She unfolded them and put them on, tapped the frame, then moved her finger up and down the stem, scrolling up and down till she got to the schematics of the test floor. She studied them, seeing the glowing outlines of the buildings, the streets, the tunnels.

  Her trained mind sorted through the data—and quickly found a route.

  “We can take this tunnel—” She pointed at a side tunnel that led into inky darkness. “At the end there’s a service shaft that connects with the submarine pens.”

  “Then let’s go!” Leon said, striding quickly that way.

  Alice urged Becky along ahead of her, taking up the rear because she was worried about the Licker. The others entered the tunnel—and just before she followed, Alice glanced back. The rubble past the wrecked Rolls-Royce, was beginning to shift, to shrug about, and she thought she glimpsed a Licker’s talon.

  She hurried on, wanting to get under cover now. Up ahead of them, not quite running, were the Rain clone, Barry, Luther, and Leon. Alice and Becky caught up with Leon, who had a small flashlight in one hand. A little light glowed up from the flashlight, eerily illuminating his grimly determined face.

  “How did you end up working for Wesker?” Alice asked.

  Leon’s response was a harsh snap.

  “I don’t work for him!” He glowered over at her for a long moment. Finally he went on. “But things on the surface have changed. Everyone thought it was important to have you with us. Wesker said you knew of some weapon… something that could turn the tide.” He shook his head, perhaps thinking of Sergei and Ada. “But I don’t know if I would have risked so much, just for one person.”

  “Okay, then,” Alice said. There was no time— no political room, in a sense—to push for more information. In time, it would all come out.

  But as long as Wesker was involved—she was pretty sure it’d come out badly.

  “Dead end!” Barry said, pointing.

  The tunnel—just “window dressing,” after all— came to a halt in a wall of rough stone. But in one corner, a metal staircase led upward. Alice took off Ada’s glasses and looked up the staircase. There was a little light coming down from above.

  “Access shaft to the submarine pens,” she said. “Come on!”

  She led the way, wincing at the spiking pain in her side that came with every step now. When she thought she was out of sight of the others, around a turn in the staircase, she checked the wound. It was bleeding again. She already felt lightheaded, weaker than usual.

  Come on, Alice, she told herself. Find the energy and do what has to get done. One more time…

  She heard a scratching sound on stone, from back in the tunnel. It didn’t seem human. Was that the sound of a Licker’s claws, as it crept along, searching for them? She glanced back, and saw Becky hurrying to catch up with her. Alice smiled at the girl and waved.

  Could she really keep Becky alive, while she was slowly bleeding out? With the bomb ticking toward an explosion, with the troopers looking for them, and with the Licker once more on their trail, the odds weren’t good.

  Jill and her team hurried across the underground Metro platform, past the imitation Russian billboards on the tiled walls. Ada Wong, in handcuffs, her head hooded, stumbled blindly ahead of them.

  Even so, Ada was dangerous. Very dangerous. Cuffing her hands behind her, the hood, constant surveillance—it was all necessary. Just give her a sliver of an edge—just for a moment—and she would use that advantage to cut someone’s throat.

  Probably mine, Jill mused, If she can get to me.

  She could see that the way was blocked up ahead by a fall of masonry. The rubble was moving a little as if something was forcing its way through. That would be one of the Lickers. She’d objected to releasing the experimental monsters from their pens, just to go after Ada Wong’s strike team. The creatures would kill allies just as likely as enemies, and they were a threat to Jill and her squadron. But she’d been overruled and the things had been set free.

  It looked to Jill as if one of the Lickers had already broken through the stone barricade. The other was still digging its way out.

  We won’t be going that way, she mused. It was possible that Alice was dead—but somehow Jill didn’t think so. Project Alice was too resourceful. Trying to think like her quarry, Jill worked out the route the strike team had probably taken. She signaled to a trooper, instructing him to check his computer.

  He nodded and stared into space, scrolling through imagery.

  “They’ve reached the submarine pens,” he indicated. “Headed for the elevators.”

  “Bring up the power grid,” Jill grunted.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He tapped his goggles, and issued the orders.

  The spiral stairs ended in a concrete hallway, lit by flickering emergency lights, which gave the passage a strobe effect. Alice was feeling a little disoriented from loss of blood, and the flashing didn’t help.

  Focus, Alice, focus…

  They pushed through a steel door, Leon taking the lead, looking around for troopers. Not spotting any, judging from his reaction. Then they all emerged into the gigantic, echoey stone room—into the chill, where their breaths plumed, and there was the briny smell of saltwater.

  “Are those submarines?” Becky asked, her eyes huge.

  “Yes,” Alice responded. “Russian submarines.”

  Leon looked at his watch and let out a long slow breath.

  “Eleven minutes,” he said. “We’re going to be okay.” But Alice wasn’t so sure. There still were a lot of wild cards, a lot of unknown factors, that lay between them and the surface world.

  Leon led the way, jogging along toward an elevator that would lift them up to the boarding level. Alice trotted behind him, holding Becky’s hand and trying to ignore the pain in her side; the way the room seemed to bounce around
as she ran, as if it might start spinning at any moment. She needed food and rest. She needed blood pressure. She needed to…

  Get to the elevator shaft, Alice. Put one foot in front of the other. Keep going. Do not lose consciousness. Not allowed.

  The room swirled—but she stayed on her feet. And there was the shaft.

  “Get on board!” Luther called to them, jumping onto the big freight platform.

  “Hold on!” Barry said as Alice and Becky climbed up. He tapped the elevator’s controls. “Next stop, menswear and sporting goods.” He hit the switch, and the elevator began to rise. It looked like they were going to make it after all…

  It got seven feet up the shaft—and then jolted to a stop.

  The lights in the chamber went out, to be replaced by dim, flickering emergency lights. The shaft suddenly seemed like a shortcut to Hell.

  “Barry?” Leon asked, licking his lips. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know…”

  Alice looked down at Becky—saw the fear on the little girl’s face. She hugged her close.

  “It’ll be all right…” she signed.

  Luther went to the edge of the platform, lowered himself from it, and dropped to the floor.

  “Where are you going?” Leon demanded.

  But Luther didn’t need to answer as he went to the control panel. Leon and Alice climbed down and followed—Becky whimpering as Alice left her on the elevator. The Rain clone put her arms around the little girl, whispering to her. Barry looked around nervously, gun at the ready.

  Leon was staring into the submarine pens as he walked over to Luther. So far, no sign of pursuers…

  “Looks like somebody cut the power remotely,” Luther said, trying to reactivate the control panel.

  “Can you get it back online?” Leon asked.

  Luther shook his head.

  “Not my specialty.”

  Leon glanced at his countdown timer.

  “Nine minutes. Looks like we’re going with plan B.” Luther looked enquiringly at him. “There’s a reason we planted those explosives.”

  Suddenly a shadow fell over them. Claws clicked on stones. Alice felt a chill and looked up to see a gigantic Licker clinging to the wall just below a big open-air vent. The creature was limned flickeringly in the strobing emergency light as it hung above the elevator platform. A narrow, fragile-looking iron ladder, affixed to the wall, led up to the yawning vent.