Chapter 25: The Control Plaga

Claire followed Leon down the second passage, her mind still spinning from what had just happened with Steve. For a minute there, she had thought there was going to be a fight, and she still wasn't sure what the catalyst had been. It wasn't as though she minded his company, but she was becoming increasingly convinced that his desire to be with her was based too heavily on his irrational idea that he had to stay by her side to make everything all right.

What did they do to him? she wondered. And why, why would something the Organization did have such an odd effect?

She hoped she was reading too much into it. It could be nothing more than an idea his mind had created to cope with the ghosts he was seeing. She couldn't help but remember, however, that he had said it was during the long dream after his death that he realized everything would be fine once he found her.

That obsession, the ghosts themselves, and the missing memories for those thirteen years all seemed to tie together and point back to the Organization. That made her nervous. Outwardly, he seemed unscathed by what had happened to him, but she didn't like to think that they had harmed his mind.

While attacks on the body only have so much power as long as the mind can resist, attacks on the mind are much, much worse…

A chill ran through her as she remembered Kirsty's words.

"You all right?" Leon asked.

She nodded. The stone hallway they were walking through didn't offer much in the way of scenery, but at least it was quiet. The only sounds were those of their breathing and their footsteps as they walked along. They both were using their lights to illuminate the way.

"I'm just worried about Steve," she said softly.

"I'm worried about this whole mess."

She glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"First the Organization attacks in what seems to be a wild show of power, containing every attack before it could get out of hand. Now, they're all but silent. Then Barry is kidnapped but escapes almost immediately, and Steve shows up with no memory of what happened. Now we're being attacked. I feel like those early attacks were bait—they expended their resources to draw us out, and now they're working to pick us off."

Claire shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense. Why go through all that trouble just to bring us together? Why not use those resources to attack us separately, when we couldn't support one another?" She frowned. "And about Barry and Steve—why wouldn't the Organization just kill them while they were in their power, instead of returning them to us first?"

"Maybe they aren't trying to kill us," he said in a dark tone.

She looked over at him quickly. His brow was furrowed, as if he was trying to work something out. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that there's a lot happening that doesn't make sense," he answered, "and I'm starting to wonder if that's the point. Steve sees things. Jill—you know she's been having trouble. Chris, Barry, and Sheva were attacked—they weren't killed, but the attacks have made us feel vulnerable. What will we do if Kirsty is attacked while we're gone? We'll be afraid to leave anyone undefended. And Josh—they've managed to keep him just at the point where he can't feel safe. It's like they're just waiting to strike. What we're doing here makes me uneasy, too. If their army is dependent on the Control Plaga, why would the clues we needed be left lying around?"

"You think they're deliberately weakening us," she said, "playing games the way a cat plays with a mouse. But why?"

"Revenge?" he suggested.

Further debate on the topic was cut off by the shuffling, wheezing approach of a Regenerador at the end of the long hallway they were traversing. With enough room and a clear view, Claire aimed the rocket launcher she had brought and fired a single shot. The monster exploded.

However, another one appeared right behind it, jerkily making its way towards them. Leon had his rifle ready in a second, taking down the Plagas in its body and destroying it before it could get close.

They looked at each other and nodded, proceeding with caution now that they had seen enemies. However, the rest of the hallway was clear, and they reached a door at the end without being impeded further. Leon stood to one side of the door and readied his handgun.

Claire opened the door while he covered her, and a dog burst through from the area beyond, snarling and snapping at her. He took it out with a single shot, and she stepped away as the body fell. She looked through and, seeing no further enemies, stepped through the door. She froze. This area looked like it had been built with nothing but a deathtrap in mind.

There was a platform at the edge of the door, where she was standing, and several scattered throughout. However, the majority of this "room" had no floor, opening onto dark depths below. She couldn't see the bottom. Narrow rope bridges extended from platform to platform. They were complex and yet simple—other than posts set on each platform, there was no wood used in their construction, and yet the overlapping ropes provided something to stand on. Some were old and frayed, and others looked like they had nails and sharps of glass built into them as an added defense.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," she muttered.

She suddenly realized that Leon hadn't followed her. Looking back, she saw that he was kneeling by the body of the dog, frowning at it. She walked back to him and gave him a questioning look.

"Notice anything unusual?" he asked, indicating the body.

She took a look at it and slowly shook her head. "No. It's just a dog."

"Exactly."

She frowned at him and then looked back at it. She suddenly realized exactly what he meant. It was just a dog, a normal dog. It had attacked her as viciously as any monster, but it didn't look like it was infected with anything. Yet she couldn't imagine that it had somehow gotten in here by accident.

"What does it mean?" she whispered.

"Remember what Kirsty said about our true enemy working from the shadows? I think he's trying to tell us something."

"Well, we're failing to receive his message," she muttered. She looked at the dog and tried to imagine it as a normal animal. It must have been one, before it had been trapped in here. Had it attacked them because they were strangers, or because being confined in the deathtrap cavern had made it insane? "Then again, it's certainly throwing us off balance."

"What's the next area like?" Leon asked, getting up.

She grimaced. "Not the most charming of places, I can tell you that."

They walked through the doorway together and looked out across the expanse of bridges and platforms ahead of them. Far from making it better, seeing it a second time made it look worse. Now she was able to pick out all of the little details, such as the number of places even in the bridge just ahead of them where she would be unable to hold on or step in certain places.

"Well, let's get this over with," Leon said. Gripping his gun tightly, he started across the first bridge.

If anything attacks us here, we're dead, she couldn't help but think, as she followed him, taking care to not step on any dangerous sections.

Being on the bridge made her even uneasier. To watch her footing, she had to look down and see that seemingly bottomless pit. She wondered how far it really was to the bottom, and she hoped she wouldn't have to find out. The bridge swayed with every step, and with two of them creeping across it at once, it shook so much that she found herself reaching out to grab the ropes on the side whenever she could. Far too often, however, the rope was lined with glistening, sharp specks, and she had to lift her hands and focus on keeping her balance.

Twenty steps. That was how far they had gone so far. She hadn't realized she was counting until she consciously thought the number. Looking ahead, she guessed they had made it about halfway across. Twenty steps to go. She wondered if Steve and Jill had encountered anything similar.

Her stomach lurched as she realized they would likely have to return the same way they had come. They would have to cross these bridges not once, but twice. Yet, as the place was not actively trying to kill them, it seemed so pointless to have something like this inside the fortress. It would be dangerous to enemies and allies alike.

Is he right? Are they playing twisted games with us?

Distracted, she didn't see the gap in the ropes beneath her. Her foot plunged through and she cried out, grabbing the ropes to her side instinctually. Fragments of glass dug into her hands, but she hung on doggedly as her blood stained the ropes red. Her foot was stuck, hanging in the air above the pit.

She used her grip to try to push herself up, but to her horror, she only succeeded in pushing the ropes down. The bridge creaked and stretched.

"Let me help," Leon said, having turned around at the sound of her cry. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her up; her foot came free and sent them staggering forward.

The bridge swayed alarmingly, threatening to throw them off. She held her breath, not daring to move. Leon also remained completely still, straightening up only when the bridge calmed its shudders.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes. You?"

"I'm fine. Let's keep moving."

They reached the first platform without further setbacks, although Claire chose her steps even more carefully. She restricted her thoughts to the matter at hand, not willing to be distracted again.

At the second platform, they stopped for a rest. From there they would have to take the next bridge to the right, and she could see three more bridges that would need to be crossed before reaching the room's other door. She wondered just how vast this fortress was, in contrast to the squat structure that could be seen aboveground.

They built down…and out.

"You know, I didn't mean to make Steve angry," Leon said, as she picked the pieces of broken glass out of her hands and cleaned the wounds. "I didn't think he would react like that."

"He always was impulsive," she said.

He gave her a curious look. "You say that as if you've known him for a very long time."

She bandaged her hands and then looked at him. "Well, I suppose it's hard to not count those thirteen years. I thought about him so often it was as if I knew him."

"I wish you had known him for those years," he said, "or at least known what was happening to him."

Claire studied the serious expression on his face, not liking his tone. "What are you implying?"

"Nothing, really. It's just that Chris, Barry, and Sheva were all attacked by someone who had to get close without attracting attention…and Steve has the most suspicious of circumstances."

"He wouldn't betray us!" she snapped.

"I didn't say he did it of his own free will. He could have been 'persuaded' to work against us, by the Organization…or by those ghosts he sees."

"He's fighting the ghosts," she reminded him, "and if he was in some sort of trouble, he'd have told us. He would know better than to keep something like that a secret! Whoever it is behind the attacks, it's not Steve!"

Leon regarded her impassively for a moment, and then he turned towards the bridge. "Let's go."

She followed him, clenching her fists out of anger. It was all she could do to keep her attention on the bridge and not dwell on what he had just suggested. He had to be crazy if he thought Steve would betray them—betray her. No matter what might be happening inside his mind, she knew he would never do anything to hurt her.

Attacks on the body only have so much power as long as the mind can resist…

What had Kirsty meant by that? Was she saying that someone being physically injured, tortured, or even controlled had an advantage as long as they had the will to resist? Whereas attacks on the mind…took away that resistance?

Trying to ignore that horrifying thought, she turned her attention back to the bridge. She didn't want another incident like the last one. Steve would be fine. She had promised to help him with any problems that arose, and she would do so.

Then, with the bridge swaying and stretching beneath her, a noise caught her attention. It was a very quiet, small noise—the distant snap of a rope breaking free behind them. She turned and saw the second frayed rope attaching them to the platform start to fall apart, with them just over halfway across.

"Run!" she shouted, breaking into a sprint.

Leon didn't look back and didn't question her. He started running, and together they charged across the wobbling bridge as the piece behind them rapidly broke away from its supports. Now every step seemed to bounce them into the air, and with every stride, Claire was sure she was going to be thrown over the side to her doom. There was no time to grab the sides for support now, not with it lurching down with each passing second.

The final rope snapped free, and the bridge shot downwards in a deadly arch. Claire fell backwards, grabbing the ropes she had been walking across with desperate hands. She clung to them, hanging in the air, while Leon scrabbled for a handhold of his own. To her relief, he got one, even as he looked over his shoulder to make sure she was still there.

In tense silence, they climbed the rest of the way, the bridge now acting as a ladder. Leon's feet disappeared over the top of the platform, and then he turned around to help her up as well.

Claire climbed up and looked back at the now-unreachable platform they had come from. There would be no going back.

"This is bad," she said.

Leon nodded in grim agreement. "All we can do now is keep going forward and hope there's a different way we can take later."

They rested again, but this time there was no conversation.

As if to mock their uneasiness, the rest of the bridges seemed almost stable by comparison. They still swayed with every step, but there were only a few deadly gaps, almost manageable handholds, and only the slightest of frayed sections. And there, waiting for them at the end, was a large door made of glistening black metal, lit up by tiny lamps embedded in the stone around it.

xXx

Beyond the door was a very strange scene. Here, the ceiling vaulted up in high arches and twisting shapes. More of the strange lamps cast light down on them, affixed to the ceiling in a pattern that resembled the night sky. The walls had been carved into and painted on, in strange designs and murals. The tools and paints were still sitting in the far corner. On the wall opposite Claire and Leon was another door. Steve and Jill stood in front of it, weapons raised but uncertain looks on their faces. The object of their attention was the person sitting on the floor in the center of the room, who was speaking to them.

"That was a joke, you must understand. I do not think it could happen, even if I waited a hundred years." She tilted her head, as if realizing that two more had entered the room, and then she turned towards them and regarded them curiously.

Claire stared back at the small, slender woman waiting for them here, at the heart of the fortress. She looked childlike, with wide blue eyes and black hair carefully combed away from her face. A smile played across her lips, and she blinked slowly, as if not sure what to make of her visitors. A dark robe clothed her, making her limbs look even smaller than they were. Despite all of that, there was something odd about her features—a strangeness that made her age hard to determine.

"Four of you," the girl said, clapping her thin hands together. "Excellent. I have waited so long now."

"This is the person we came to…find?" Claire asked, changing the final word from kill at the last moment.

It was the girl herself who answered. "Of course. I control Las Plagas, after all." She met her gaze and smiled. "Now that their loyalty has been completely transferred and there will soon be no need for more, you were sent to destroy me."

"No one sent us," Jill said. "We tracked down your location and came on our own."

She didn't argue, but merely smiled again. "Shall we begin?"

"No," Leon answered, frowning at her. "This doesn't have to end in death. You can bring forth the mutation when you will it, can't you? Don't do it."

The girl cocked her head towards him, seeming surprised, and then she laughed. "Are these the mighty defenders the world sends against us? Perhaps you are not so powerful after all, no matter what I may have heard."

"We can be strong without wishing for bloodshed," Jill said.

"Can you? But you came here to stop me. I must oppose you. There is no other way."

"Isn't there?" Steve asked. His voice sounded strained.

She looked around at all of them and spread her arms out. "I see three possibilities as to why you are objecting. First, you think I am a child. I am not. Second, you object to the destruction of my humanity due to the mutation." She shrugged. "The experiments ravaged my body beyond recognition. There is little more that can be done to me. Third, you are weak." Her arms fell to her side and her smile vanished. "In that case, this will be an unexpected victory."

"The experiments? What did they do to you?" Jill asked, at the same time that Leon demanded, "You said the loyalty of Las Plagas had been transferred? How? To whom?"

The girl looked between them slowly and shook her head. "My, my, I hardly know who to answer first. Besides, answering your questions would be a terrible breach of loyalty."

"Loyalty?" Claire asked. "To people who have kept you locked away inside this mad fortress?"

The tiny woman looked at her steadily. "Yes." And then she began to change. Her limbs twisted, exploding into scaled, oddly plant-like masses with vicious, shimmering claws. Bladed tentacles burst from her as her body grew, twisting her into an abomination to haunt dreams and stalk the night. Last to change was her face, still split in that strangely childlike smile before collapsing in on itself and becoming a bulbous, pulsating sphere; her hair stood on end for a second before growing into fine, wiggling feelers.

Claire jumped back and yelled in spite of herself, getting the rocket launcher ready. She could hardly believe her own eyes, that that delicate-looking person had changed into so horrific a monster.

Tentacles crashed towards them, trying to crush them. Claire and Leon dove in opposite directions as one crashed down where they had been standing, cracking the stone. He shot at the tentacle as it withdrew, and a spasm went through the monster as blood splashed up.

She studied the creature, trying to see a weak spot. She didn't want to waste her rocket launcher's ammunition on a place where it was well protected. If it had to happen this way, she wanted to get the battle over with. She aimed carefully, searching. As part of the strategy they had previously agreed on, the others attacked it to draw its fire away from her, so that she could set up her shot.

"Steve, move!" Jill screamed from the other end of the room.

Claire whirled around and saw that Steve was standing motionless, not heeding the tentacles crashing towards him. His mouth was moving, as though he was whispering something to himself. Her heart stopped beating for a moment as he stared ahead into almost certain death without budging, and then Jill grabbed him and pulled him out of the way.

He stumbled and seemed to return to himself at last. He looked at her and then turned, running across the length of the room until he reached Claire. She dodged an attack and looked at him.

"I'll cover you!" he shouted.

Jill and Leon were already doing a fine job of protecting her, but she knew that was the last thing she should say. He really wanted to help, and now was not the time to deny him that feeling.

"Thanks," she said, raising the rocket launcher again.

That bulbous growth seemed to be the place to aim; it had once been the host's head and now it beat like an overgrown heart. It was twisted away from them, as though the monster knew to protect itself, but when it leaned in for an attack, it was momentarily exposed. It would need perfect timing.

"Draw its attacks a little closer to me!" she urged, and Leon and Jill moved closer.

They both were using their rifles, aiming for the same area that she had noticed. Each successful shot drew forth a spray of yellow liquid and a screech from the monster. Steve was aiming for its tentacles and arms, wounding it and forcing back its attacks. As the four of them got closer together, its weak point became more visible to her with each attack.

It was attacking very strangely. She never felt like she was in immediate danger; it was as if the job the others were doing was working too well. They had to dodge attacks, and Steve's shooting deflected several attacks, but many of the monster's strikes seemed like they would have been near misses even if they had all stood still.

Another game? she wondered, thinking back to her cat and mouse analogy. There was no time to focus on that now, however.

She waited, fingers ready. Finally, the bloated segment of pulsing flesh was in view, and she fired. The rocket shot forward, hitting its target with a spray of yellow. A terrible shriek came from the monster, and its clawed limbs twisted and clutched at nothing. The tentacles wriggled, as if in desperation, and then the creature was still.

The four of them stood there for a moment, staring at it. She still felt dazed from the strangeness of the encounter. Looking around at the others, she sensed they felt the same.

"We can't go back the way we came," Leon finally said, breaking the silence. "Part of our path was cut off."

"Our way is fine," Jill answered.

They left the fortress quietly, with no further traps waiting to be sprung. Claire stared at the twisted metal in the hallway they now walked through, and did a double-take at the charred remains of what once had been a monster, but she didn't ask what had happened. Everyone seemed subdued.

Their loyalty has been completely transferred, she remembered. Does that mean we did all this for nothing? She thought about the report they had found earlier. Has the Organization's chessmaster betrayed them after all?

Feeling disturbed by such thoughts, she didn't say a word for the entire trip back to the entrance. Once they had climbed the stairs and emerged into the dark forest, however, she caught Jill's arm and let the other two get out of earshot before starting to walk again.

"When you pulled Steve away from the monster," she asked quietly, "was he saying something?"

"Yes." Jill's eyes went to him, walking ahead of them, and her brow furrowed. "It must have been in response to what you had asked the girl."

"What?" She had been expecting something related to the ghosts again. "Why?"

"He was just repeating the same thing to himself, over and over: 'Loyalty.'"