by Tim Waggoner
Alice felt a cold stab of fear. She’d encountered one of these monstrosities in Umbrella Prime, and the damned thing had been nearly impossible to kill. She’d been able to rescue Becky and escape with their lives—barely. But she’d only been human then. Now she was something more. And she had one advantage. She knew from experience that the creatures hunted by sound, and she hoped the cacophony of the battlefield would make it more difficult for the Licker to maneuver.
She dropped her Vectors to the ground and drew her katana. But before she could start running to meet the Licker’s charge, Jill yelled, “Alice! There’s another one!”
Alice glanced to her left and saw a second beast, even larger and more massive than the first, barreling toward them, sending Undead flying right and left as it plowed through them.
“Well, shit,” Alice said.
Even with her powers restored, Alice wasn’t certain she could take on one of the giant Lickers by herself. But two of them?
“Wesker!” she called out. “Get your mutated ass over here!”
Alice felt a rush of wind, and suddenly Wesker was standing next to her.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he said.
“I’ll take the one on the right, you take the one on the left.”
She gripped the handle of her katana with both hands and took a step forward, but Wesker took hold of her arm and stopped her.
“I don’t think that will be necessary just yet.” He raised his arm and pointed skyward.
Alice looked up and saw an Umbrella V-22 Osprey flying toward the White House from the north. The VTOL aircraft came swiftly, its dual rotors eerily silent.
“Please tell me that’s the cavalry,” Alice said.
“Not quite,” Wesker answered.
“Whoever it is, we don’t have time to worry about them. The Lickers…”
She trailed off. The giant Lickers were no longer moving toward them. The creatures had stopped less than a dozen yards apart, their heads angled toward the sky, as if they were dogs awaiting a master’s command. The Lickers weren’t the only ones who reacted to the V-22’s appearance. Normal-size Lickers, the zombie dogs, and even the Undead all stopped in their tracks and looked toward the sky. Now that the monsters had stopped fighting, the humans did too, and the sound of gunfire died away, leaving the battlefield in silence. The flying creatures, like their land-bound brethren, no longer seemed interested in attacking. They circled above the now-still battlefield, as if waiting. For what, Alice didn’t know. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
“Is it the Red Queen?” she asked Wesker. As an AI, the Red Queen had no physical body and could “appear” wherever she chose—assuming she had an electronic connection to transmit her awareness. The aircraft doubtless possessed the necessary technology to make that happen.
Wesker continued watching the V-22 approach without answering Alice’s question. He usually maintained a façade of icy control. Part of this was just his personality, Alice knew, but she guessed that another part of it—maybe the largest part—was because he was always fighting the influence of the T-virus that raged inside him. But as the Umbrella aircraft passed over the northern wall, Alice saw the man’s lips tighten and his jaw clench. Whatever was going on, Wesker wasn’t happy about it.
Helicopters moved in to confront the aircraft, but the V-22 fired a missile at one, turning it into a mass of fire and twisted metal. The wreckage fell to the ground where it took out a swath of Undead and mutants, and then continued burning. The other copters—their crews calculating the odds of success against the Umbrella aircraft—wisely decided to disengage and pulled back.
The V-22 slowed as it moved into position above the battlefield, its rotors moving into vertical position so it could hover. Alice sheathed her katana and bent down to retrieve her submachine guns. The last time an Umbrella aircraft showed up unexpectedly, she was standing on the deck of the Arcadia with hundreds of people who’d been captured by the corporation for experimentation under the guise of rescue. True, there had been dozens of V-22s then, filled with Umbrella operatives determined to regain their test subjects or kill them before they could escape. But even one Umbrella aircraft was too many as far as Alice was concerned.
Without realizing she was doing so, Alice closed her eyes and stretched her consciousness toward the aircraft. She felt her mind expand and reach outward, threads of mental energy emanating from her and snaking upward, probing, sensing… The last time she’d felt anything like this had been in the Nevada desert, when she’d used her telekinetic power to save Claire Redfield and her caravan of survivors from a gigantic flock of mutated crows. Maybe she could do something similar to the aircraft, if she just concentrated… hard… enough…
Pain pierced the base of her skull, sharp as an ice pick, but she ignored it and continued concentrating. She furrowed her brow and gritted her teeth, and she began shaking all over, as if an electric current shot through every muscle in her body. She felt the tendrils of mental energy begin to wrap around the aircraft, their hold tentative at first, but growing stronger with each passing moment. The pain filled her skull now, and tears ran from the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t let up. Another few seconds, and she’d be able to yank the V-22 out of the sky and bring it crashing to the ground.
And then, beside her, so softly she almost didn’t hear it, Wesker whispered, “Yes, that’s it.”
Alice’s eyes snapped open, her concentration broken. The tendrils of telekinetic force vanished, and the pain in her head lessened, although it didn’t recede entirely. She turned to Wesker.
“What the hell is going on here?” she demanded. “You want me to bring that ship down. I can feel it!”
“Do it!” Wesker shouted, his emotional control lapsing. “Do it or you’ll ruin everything!”
Before Alice could ask him what he was talking about, a voice boomed from speakers attached to the aircraft.
“Hello, Albert. Long time, no see.”
It was a woman’s voice, one Alice didn’t recognize. But from the expression of rage on Wesker’s face, it was clear he knew who it was, and he was far from pleased by her arrival.
Wesker explained without waiting to be asked.
“Dania Cardoza. She’s an employee in Umbrella’s Research and Development department, and to put it simply, she’s after my job.”
“That’s the real reason you brought us here, isn’t it?” Jill said. “This isn’t the last stand for humanity. You wanted us to help you take out a rival.”
“It’s exactly the sort of thing he’d do,” Ada said. “I should know. I’ve worked for him long enough.”
Alice realized then why Wesker had returned her powers to her. He’d wanted to use her as a weapon—the ultimate weapon—against Cardoza.
Cardoza’s voice echoed above them once more. “I know you, Albert. Right now you’re thinking furiously, trying to come up with a way to stop me. But it’s far too late for that now, and you know it. You’ve undoubtedly noticed the avatar implants on the Undead and the mutations by now.”
Wesker didn’t reply. Alice turned her attention to the lifeless bodies of the Undead that she and her companions had killed. At first she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but then she saw what Cardoza was talking about. Behind the right ears of the Undead—at least the ones she could see—were metallic devices the size of a quarter with a glowing red light in the center, miniature versions of the scarab device that had mind-controlled Jill.
“It’s prototype technology,” Wesker said. “Not very effective. The signal range is unreliable, and it tends to burn out the nervous system of the wearer in a few hours.”
“Yeah?” Leon said. “Well, it looks pretty goddamn effective to me.”
The thought of Umbrella being able to control and command its creations instead of merely unleashing them on the world to wreak havoc chilled Alice to the core of her being. If they were ever able to perfect the technology…
Cardoza continued. �
��And you know what those delightfully hideous darlings flying in holding patterns above you are, too.”
“Infectors.” Wesker practically spat the word.
“What are those?” Alice asked. “What do they do?”
Wesker ignored her. His gaze was focused on the aircraft, jaw clenched tight, hands balled into fists. Small patches of rough, deformed flesh erupted on his skin, and Alice knew he was so filled with fury that he was losing control over the virus inside him. If he lost control completely, he’d transform into a misshapen, savage mutant, and he might become as big a threat to Alice and her allies as any of the creatures surrounding them.
“Hold it together,” she snapped.
Wesker’s skin began to bubble, as if his body were boiling from the inside out, but then he slowly twisted his head from side to side, and his flesh returned to normal. He’d fought back the virus’s influence—for now.
“You have no way out of this, Albert,” Cardoza said. “Surrender and I might let you live. It would be a risk, I know, but the idea of keeping you around after you’ve been thoroughly defeated and humiliated is so tempting. If you don’t surrender, I’ll kill you along with everyone who’s foolish enough to be helping you. You’ve got sixty seconds to decide.”
Cardoza fell silent.
“We need to get out of here,” Leon said. “We’ve only got a minute before that crazy bitch sics her army of monsters on us.” His voice was steady, but Alice saw the beads of nervous sweat on his forehead.
“She won’t do that,” Wesker said. He seemed calm once more, completely unconcerned that he was surrounded by hundreds of Undead and mutants that were waiting for Cardoza’s command to resume their attack.
“Why not?” Alice demanded.
“She’s used the avatar implants to get her army into position. She doesn’t know about your unique talents, but even so, she’s not one to take chances, any more than I am. So while she believes her army alone could probably destroy us, she brought them along for insurance.” He pointed skyward, indicating the winged monstrosities circling overhead.
“You called them Infectors,” Alice said. “Exactly what do they infect?”
Wesker gave her a hint of a grim smile. “You’ll see.”
“Come on!” Leon said. “Are you guys seriously just going to stand there and wait to be killed?”
Alice figured their minute was just about up. “Guess so,” she said.
“Fuck!” Leon shouted, but he continued to stand his ground. Alice already respected his skills as a warrior, but her respect for him as a person increased tenfold at that moment.
Alice glanced at Jill and then Ada. Both women looked nervous, but they nodded, indicating they were with her.
And then their time was up.
“Very well, Albert,” Cardoza said. “I’d say I was sorry about this, but we both know I’d be lying.”
There was no outward sign that anything changed, but inside the V-22, Cardoza must have reactivated the avatar implants, because the Undead and the mutations began to move again. Alice turned and raised her Vectors, expecting the monsters—especially the two giant Lickers—to resume their attack. But they didn’t. Instead, all the creatures that were assembled on what was once the White House lawn merely shuffled about, moving from foot to foot, as if they were excited. And then, moving in an eerie display of almost perfect unison, they looked up.
The winged monsters—the Infectors—broke out of their holding patterns, let out ear-splitting screeches, banked, and began descending. Alice half-expected the creatures to come flying toward them, but instead they flew low over the fiendish army, quadruple wings spread wide. And then their wings stiffened, ejecting a shower of flechette-like spines that flew through the air and sank deep into the flesh of their fellow monstrosities. And those that had been struck began to change. Their bodies began flailing wildly, as if they’d lost all control of themselves, and their flesh began to swell and break out in huge oozing pustules.
Alice turned to Wesker. “What the hell is this?”
Wesker watched the nightmarish transformations taking place around them with cool detachment.
“As I said earlier, the avatar implants are of limited use. But they do allow whoever wields control over them to move their recipients into position, and then do this.”
The Infectors continued spraying the army of monsters with their spines, flying back and forth over their heads, seemingly determined not to miss a single one. The Infectors did not, however, shoot at Alice and her companions, nor did they attack any of the military personnel in the area. Alice didn’t think this was because whatever chemical the spines contained wouldn’t work on humans, although she supposed that was a possibility. But if she had to bet, she’d guess that Cardoza had commanded the Infectors to leave the humans alone. The woman might want them dead—Wesker most of all—but that didn’t mean she wanted their deaths to be easy. If she was anything like the other Umbrella higher-ups that Alice had met, the woman had a sadistic streak a mile wide.
The creatures’ bodies began to distort, limbs lengthening, bones cracking as they broke and then fused in sickening angles, only to break once more. Undulating tentacles emerged from their flesh, so many that it became almost impossible to see the creatures they were attached to.
“The corporation has experienced a certain amount of… internal strife over the years since the first outbreak,” Wesker said, still sounding psychotically calm. He glanced at Alice. “You’re not the only adversary I’ve had to deal with, you know. But I defeated everyone who was foolish enough to challenge me. Now Dania is the only one who remains—and you’re going to stop her for me.”
Alice didn’t take her eyes off the rapidly mutating creatures as she answered.
“And what makes you think that?”
“Simple. You and your friends are in as much danger as I am. As are the military personnel I was able to manipulate into helping me. If you don’t stop this, they will all die.”
“Maybe so, but you’ll die, too,” Alice said. “It might be worth our lives to see you finally get what you deserve.”
“I don’t blame you for feeling that way, Alice, but what about your friends? Are they willing to make the same sacrifice just so you can have your revenge on me?”
Maybe they are, Alice thought. But that doesn’t mean they should.
After the arrival of Cardoza’s aircraft, the marines and soldiers stationed around the White House grounds had held their fire. But now that the monsters were wildly mutating—and showed no signs of stopping—fear prompted them to resume attacking. Gunfire erupted, flamethrowers disgorged streams of fire, and grenades were launched. Jill, Ada, and Leon followed suit and began firing their weapons once more. Alice was tempted to join in, but she restrained herself. Bullets weren’t going to win this fight. She could see that now.
The new mutations sustained damage from the weapons fire, but they didn’t fall, and as Alice watched in horrified fascination, the tentacled aberrations turned toward one another and began to merge. She first saw it happening with the giant Lickers, or rather the giant mounds of tentacles the Lickers had become. Their tentacles stretched outward in all directions, connecting with the tentacles of other, smaller creatures that reached toward them. When the tentacles touched, they fused, flowing together as if they were made of liquid. The mutations continued merging, becoming a mass of discolored, pustule-covered, slimy flesh. Within moments, Alice and her companions were surrounded by a single gigantic organism that made her think of an amoeba that had been enlarged to billions of times its original size.
“You have to admit, the Melange has a certain primal elegance to it,” Wesker said. “Pity it doesn’t last long. Fifteen minutes from now it will liquefy, becoming lifeless sludge. Of course, by then we’ll be long dead.” He looked at Alice. “Unless you act quickly.”
The Infectors had continued flying over the mutating creatures as they transformed, but now that they had finished merging, the I
nfectors dove down into the mass of flesh and were absorbed. The Melange, as Wesker had called it, was complete. The military personnel continued their efforts to destroy the monstrosity that now filled the battlefield, but every piece of ammunition was absorbed, every swath of flesh blackened by a flamethrower or ravaged by a grenade blast or artillery shell rapidly healed. Helicopters moved in to attack the Melange, guns blazing. Bullets stitched a series of wounds into the conglomeration’s mottled hide, but they too healed almost as swiftly as they were made. In response to the aerial assault, tentacles emerged from the Melange’s surface and shot skyward. They grabbed hold of the helicopters’ landing skids and pulled. Some of the copters were dashed to the ground while others were hurled against the walls protecting the White House. Metal crumpled, fuel tanks exploded, and fireballs filled the air. The Melange did damage to itself bringing down the copters, but if the creature felt any pain from those injuries, it gave no sign. Perhaps it was strong enough to heal that much damage, too.
Alice hoped the tanks would fare better, but while they managed to blast significant chunks out of the Melange, its tentacles were able to grab hold of the tanks and bend their barrels, tear apart their road wheels, and breech the turrets to get at the men and women inside. They were pulled out and swiftly absorbed into the Melange.
One of the tentacles extruded from the mass and whipped toward Leon. He saw it coming and he tried to blast it with his submachine gun, but the bullets had no effect. The tentacle wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides, and before any of them could react, the tentacle retracted, yanking him off his feet and pulling him in. He still had hold of his gun in his right hand, but the way his arms were pinned, there was no way he could fire it.
