Chapter 23
The house is one story, with a Christmas wreath on the door. Rope and a blue tarp wrap a motorcycle under the carport. Redfield bounds up the porch steps and holds the door for us. Fluorescent light streams through the broken window pane.
"Finally. Somewhere with heating and electricity," Claire says when we're inside.
Envelopes, Christmas cards, and a newspaper cover the one-person table. I pick up the newspaper. The date on it is December 18, 2009.
I glance at the address. "We're in Pennsylvania."
"Chris, we need to call the BSAA," says Claire.
"On it." Passing her the assault rifle, he grabs the cordless phone and dials a number. "Jill? It's me, Chris…"
I follow Claire into the living room. Setting the assault rifle beside the Christmas tree, she sinks into the nearby armchair and closes her eyes.
"You look tired," I say.
"Didn't get much sleep last night."
"I'm gonna look for the bathroom."
She doesn't respond.
I wander into the dark hall. The first door is a closet. The next leads to a flowery-wallpapered bedroom. The last door is the bathroom. I lock the door and pull out my phone. I have one message:
Thank God you're okay! I forwarded your message to Gaea. They are talking with HCF about pursuing Mitchell and the rogues that took the contract. Contact me when you get this!
My phone battery is at 15%. I hit the call icon. The call connects on the second ring.
"V-001?"
"Jesus, Trish, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice. I was worried they'd -"
"No. Not yet, anyway. Where are you? I can barely make out what you're saying."
I lower the toilet lid and sit down. "I'm in a bathroom. They're just outside."
"Okay, then just listen. Your mission has been updated."
"Updated?"
"Yes. You now have two targets. Your original target, and Claire Redfield."
"What? Why?"
"I don't know. I was just told to tell you whenever you contacted me. We need you to take them both out and give us your exact address. Our tracer shows the town you're in, but not much else."
"Fuck that. Listen: Redfield and Claire offered us both protection. We need to take it. Where are you? Are you still in the States?"
"We can't do that."
"The hell we can't. You tell me where you are right now, and I'll make sure Redfield sends people after you. He's on the phone with the BSAA right now."
"I...I can't leave."
"Yes, you can, Trish. We keep feeding ourselves bullshit about how we can't do it. But this is all worth the risk. Don't you want to be free again, Trish?"
"They reiterated to me that I am accountable for you. And if you don't complete your mission, they'll hold me responsible and declare you defective. You understand what that means."
"This is bullshit. Bullshit. Neither of them did anything. Claire didn't do -"
"I know how you feel about her," Trish whispers. "I'm not stupid. I know what it's like to care for someone I can't have. But it's them or us. So please, I beg of you: tell me where you are, and then end this."
My throat burns. I rub the welling tears out of my eyes. "Please let me spare Claire."
Something covers the phone. Trish is talking with a man. He chuckles.
She uncovers the phone. "Your request is denied."
I swallow the burning. I blink away the tears, and nod. I give her the address.
She clears her throat. "Got it. We'll talk soon, V-001."
"See you soon, Trish."
I disconnect the call.
Three percent left. A fuck ton it matters.
Letting the phone drop, I bury my face in my hands. I was so stupid for wanting all those things - for thinking things could ever be different. I should've just accepted them the way they were and gotten on with them. If I had, Claire would get to live.
I kick the wall. The plaster cracks.
Someone knocks on the door. "Are you okay, Snake? It sounded like something fell."
It's Claire.
"Hit my elbow," I say.
"Oh, okay. Listen, Chris is still in the kitchen talking. I'm going to lie down in the bedroom where it's quieter."
She walks away from the door.
My heart races. I can feel hers beating against mine while we were lying in the snow together. A phantom heartbeat. Non-existent. Just like hers will soon be.
Flipping the lid, I dry-heave what's left of the sausage and beans. Flush. Rinse out my mouth, then take a sip. I have to focus. I have to do this. For Trish's sake, and for mine.
Quietly, I head to the bedroom. Claire lies on the bed, a flowery blanket covering her. Her breaths are deep and slow. Her face is peaceful. Trusting.
I pad to the living room and pick up the assault rifle. Redfield is still talking in the kitchen. He's the tougher sibling, but I can't stand the idea of seeing Claire's face when she realizes what I really am.
I go back to the bedroom. Check the clip. Count twenty shells. Take aim at her head. Bite the inside of my cheek to stop from crying.
One quick, painless shot. That's the best I can do for her.
But she deserves better.
I breathe in, breathe out. Try to whisper, "I'm sorry." My voice cracks, so I shut up.
One.
Two.
...
One.
Two.
…
One.
Two.
…
God dammit. God dammit.
I lower the assault rifle. Close my eyes. Inhale, exhale. Open them. Retrain the gun. Lower it again.
I can't. I just can't -
Redfield tackles me into the doorframe. The gun blasts the dresser. Claire snaps awake. His hands grip the gun, pinning me with it.
"Give it to me!" he screams.
I knee him in the dick. He doubles over, moaning. I twist the gun out of his hands and train it on him. He puts his hands in the air. Dropping the knife, Claire puts her own hands in the air.
"So this is how you show gratitude: by putting us down like dogs," says Redfield.
"I have to. Or they'll kill her. What would you do if it was her?" I nod at Claire.
"I'd find a way that didn't involve gunning down innocent people," he says.
"There is no other way - "
"Yes, there is." Tears stream down Claire's face. "Please, Snake, don't do this."
Tears stream down my face, too. "There isn't. Claire, I'm so sorry."
My finger shakes on the trigger. I breathe in. Breathe out. Swallow. Count to three. Only make it to two.
"You're making a mistake," she says. "And you know it."
I release the trigger -
A tremor rocks the house. The wall behind me explodes. Dr. Cabot stands in its place, the bladed tentacles swimming around him like eels. One tentacle knocks the assault rifle from my hands. Another whips me into the wall and pins me. Dr. Cabot walks to me, the floorboards aching beneath each footstep. He stares at me with blank eyes as pearly as his fangs.
I yank at the tentacle. "Please. Please, Dr. Cabot."
With one hand, he takes me by the sweater collar and hoists me in the air. I tear at his fingers, but they're locked in place. He turns to Claire and Redfield. They run for the window, but two tentacles grab them. They hit the floor face-first.
Wheeling, Dr. Cabot steps through the splintered passage where the bathroom used to be. Water from the busted toilet and sink floods the floor. He drags Redfield and Claire as they kick and stomp at the tentacles. Redfield grabs a speared wooden rod and stabs the tentacle ensnaring him. Red stains the water. Growling, Dr. Cabot whips Redfield against the broken porcelain. He lies limp, eyes shut.
"Chris!" Claire shrieks, reaching for him.
They slide onto the snow. The spear drifts from Redfield's hand. Rolling, Claire goes for the spear. Dr. Cabot snaps her sideways, sharp as a sucker punch.
A whirring sound echoes in the distance. Dr. Cabot takes us to the front yard, where the land is bare and flat and stretches wide like a field. He stands as still as a statue. Claire crawls to Redfield, pushes him on his back, and checks his head. I kick at Dr. Cabot's heart. I strike his ribs instead. He sticks a blade to my heart and presses until I wail.
The whirring sound grows louder. Wind whips our hair and clothes. The chopper - another black, double-rotor model with "HCF" on the flank - appears over the house. The chopper lands twenty feet away. The door slides open, and two armed mercs jump into the snow. They stand on either side of the door as another armed merc climbs out alongside Dick.
He grins. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here. Our elusive BOW, and the two targets he was supposed to kill."
"What?" I rasp.
"It wishes to speak. Very well." Dick waves his hand.
Dr. Cabot drops me. Cupping my heart, I climb to my knees. Two tentacles slither around me, bracing me in place.
"How do you know about that?" I say.
Dick's grin widens. "For an intelligent BOW, you are quite slow. Doctor? Doctor, would you kindly come out? V-001 - I mean, Snake is asking for you."
A merc marches someone out of the chopper. My heart stops.
"Trish?"
The merc halts her when they reach Dick. She wrenches her arm out of the merc's hand.
"What the fuck, Trish?" I say.
She looks at the ground. "I'm so sorry."
"'Trish' is not entirely to blame. When I picked her up in New Jersey, I threatened her life if she didn't assist me in reacquiring you. A survivalist, like all Gaea employees who manage to live."
His gaze moves to Claire and Redfield. Dick and the merc start toward them. Claire scoots so she's between him and Redfield, her fist raised. The merc trains his gun on her.
Dick squats near her. "He's still breathing, I see. You know, it's tragic that you've become involved in this, Claire. They only wanted your brother dead. Had you stayed home, you would've lived."
"Come a little closer, and we'll see who lives," she says.
Dick laughs. "I can see why it has taken a liking to you. Much like Patricia here, you possess a strong will to survive. I was planning on killing both you and your brother for all of the trouble you've caused me. I suppose I'm not unlike the monsters at Gaea in that respect - the human ones, I mean. But the chance to see Chris Redfield and Claire Redfield, the two most troublesome siblings for the biohazard black market, and choose whether they die or 'assist' our experiments...no one in Gaea's circle could resist. So for now, I'll let you both live." Standing, he turns to the merc. "Take them to the chopper."
The merc calls into his wrist comm for two teams. Four mercs jump out of the chopper and head for us.
To Trish, Dick says, "Once they're onboard, give them a sedative. A long-lasting one. Then call Gaea's headquarters. Tell them you and V-001 are on your way back as planned and that you'll be returning via an alternative method. Tell them V-001 managed to capture the Redfield siblings and all who attend are invited to decide their fate. Tell them that Conrad and Leila should invite as many investors as they feel. In fact, they should bring the whole mainland staff."
"Yes, Dr. Mitchell."
Two mercs grab Redfield while the other two grab Claire, kicking and thrashing, and drag them to the chopper.
Dick turns to me. "As for you, V-001 - 'Snake' - I'm afraid you've reached the end of the line."
He raises a hand. The tentacles hoist me high. The remaining tentacles wrap my feet.
"Captain?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Your knife, please."
The merc hands him a large combat knife. Dick slashes open my sweater from waist to collar. He traces my scars and the knotted, pulsing skin with the knife's tip.
"You look scared," he says. "Let's see if your unnatural heart allows you that small bit of humanity."
He inserts the blade into the bullet hole. I scream as he saws and rips off the skin. Blood dribbles down me. My heart thumps wildly like a fleshy, red drum.
Laughing, Dick tosses my skin like a Frisbee. "Captain, tell your men to bring out one of the coolers. A big one."
"But sir, the capsule -"
"If you want to get paid, then do it." To me, he says, "I was going to wait until you returned to do this, but after the additional trouble you caused me these past few days, I simply can't wait."
"Go fuck yourself," I growl.
Gritting his teeth, he draws back the knife.
"No!"
Trish jumps between us. She holds up her hands. Dick grabs her arm and yanks her away from me.
He presses the blade to her neck. "Until I'm done, I will need your assistance. But I swear to you, if you cross me again -"
"H-hear me out," she says. "You don't want to do this here. HCF's choppers aren't designed to power its capsule -" Her eyes flick to Dr. Cabot, "and their back-up coolers. If you take his organs now -"
"They're not its organs!"
"Right, sorry, Dr. Mitchell. If you take the organs now, there's a good chance the power will malfunction. If it does, the organs'll start to decay before you've had a chance to, uh, commemorate them for her. I mean, it is a ten-hour flight to Coeus from here. Then there's the demonstration to worry about."
Dick releases her arm. He keeps the knife pointed at her. "You've made your point. But bear in mind, you will toe the line and toe it finely or you will be joining this thing in the afterlife. Understand?"
"I understand, sir."
A merc arrives with a big plastic tub.
"I no longer have need for that." To the captain, Dick says, "Round up your men. We're headed back to Coeus."
He waves Dr. Cabot to the chopper. Keeping me drawn in front of him, Dr. Cabot walks to the chopper and climbs in. The mercs sit along the two walls. Assault rifles rest on their knees, their fingers on the trigger. At the back of the chopper stands a giant, empty capsule that stretches from floor to ceiling. Claire is sitting on the floor beside the capsule. Her hands are cuffed to an equipment stand above her. Redfield rests at her feet, his hands cuffed to the bench base. His eyes are still shut.
Dick, Trish, and the captain climb inside. Trish grabs her bag from one of the benches. Redfield stirs in his sleep. She pulls out a tube of blue liquid and three syringes. Two she sticks in her pocket. The other she uses to draw some of the blue liquid. She kneels beside Redfield.
"Get away from him!" Claire says, kicking at Trish.
"It's just a sedative to keep him asleep," says Trish.
"Captain?" Dick says.
The captain points at the nearest two mercs. "Assist Dr. King."
Claire tries to kick at them, but the bigger one grabs both of her feet. She yells at Redfield, but Trish injects the blue liquid in his neck before he can even open his eyes. He passes out cold. The smaller merc grabs Claire by her ponytail and forces her head to one side. He yanks down her turtleneck collar. Trish kneels beside her.
"No! Don't!" Claire says.
"Sorry. I have to."
Trish inserts the needle into Claire's neck and injects the blue liquid. Claire's eyes roll up, and she goes limp.
"Now the BOW. A large dose to make it through the demonstration," says Dick.
"Of course."
Standing in front of me, she unpockets the third syringe and draws more liquid.
"I hope you enjoy your life, 'Dr. King,'" I say.
Sticking the needle in my neck, she breathes, "Trust me."
She injects the liquid -