Chapter 25

The chopper rocks hard.

I'm sitting beside Claire. My hands dangle above me, cuffed to the same equipment stand. Claire's eyes are still rolled up. Redfield still lies motionless. My heart thumps against my jacket, which is now zipped up. Translucent frost webs across the capsule's glass panel. Dr. Cabot stands frozen inside, a shadow suspended in time.

The mercs are all still seated along the walls. Dick sits beside the captain. Trish sits away from everyone, clutching her bag. Above, the two rotors are still whirring, but the chopper itself isn't moving. The pilot is talking to someone on his headset.

Trish looks at me. She presses a finger to her lips, then points to her eyes and mouths, "Close."

I shut my eyes and let my head drop. The pilot tells the captain they got clearance. The captain orders the door open. The heavy afternoon humidity and salty ocean smell flood the cabin. Overhead, the rotors slow to a crawling spin.

"We're all clear, sir," the captain says.

"Patricia, ensure all of our guests are in the observation deck. Then contact the managers for every division of Coeus Island. Viral Research, BOW Research, Maintenance, Security, IT, Housekeeping, Meal Prep, the island clinic, all of them," says Dick. "Tell BOW Research to gather in the demonstration room and the others to wait in the viral research lab's main storage room. Tell Security to send two armed men to the demonstration room. Then meet me there."

"Yes, sir."

Trish's boots tap across the chopper floor. She climbs out.

Dick says, "Captain, escort the two humans to the demonstration room. If they aren't awake by the time you reach it, wake them. Wait for the two guards. Then return to the chopper to await further instruction."

"Yes, sir."

Boots clump to us. Handcuffs jingle, unsnap. The mercs drag Claire and Redfield away, shoes scuffing the floor. Dick walks to the capsule. He hits a few buttons on the control panel. The vents hiss and release cold air that bites my skin. The glass panel slides open.

"Wake up, you abomination. We have little time," says Dick.

Dr. Cabot takes two heavy steps out of the capsule. A blade strikes the stand. As the pieces topple over me, my hands fall free. A tentacle slithers around me and lifts me high. Dick leads us into a large space that echoes the crashing of ocean waves. I chance a peek. We're in Coeus's hangar, which is now filled with choppers, private jets, and supply stacks.

We enter the elevator Trish and I took just a few mornings ago. Dick presses a button. The elevator sinks. My ears pop. The elevator dings once before the doors roll open. We're on Sub-Level 1, the floor with the wide, glass windows that show the dimly lit sea around us. The observation deck doors are shut. Voices, light and merry, and jolly Christmas music leak through the heavy wood. It sounds like a party.

Dick points at the card scanner. Dr. Cabot inserts a blade and rips the scanner out.

We make our way down the curved hallway. Dick stops at one porthole and looks into the demonstration room. He chuckles. We hang a left at the end of the hallway. Dick looks between the sub-level elevator and the stairwell beside it. We pack inside the elevator. It stops at Sub-Level 2. We cross the empty, white-walled lab to the surgical bay. Dick scans his ID card. The door slides open. I close my eyes.

Dr. Cabot lays me on a metal gurney. Dick cuffs my wrists and ankles to the four corners and belts me down. He wheels a tray beside the gurney. Opening the drawer, he sets tools on the metal tray. I know them by the clinks they make: pliers, a scalpel, scissors, and a bone saw. He digs something out of his jacket pocket and places it on the tray. A lighter snaps. A flame sizzles. He flicks the lighter shut.

The door opens. Dick and Dr. Cabot leave. The door closes and locks.

I open my eyes. Darkness fogs the surgical bay. The only light comes from a burning candle. Beside it stands a framed photo of a woman about Trish or Claire's age. The woman wears her blond hair in a bob. Her light blue eyes and red lipstick accent the anger in her expression.

The blades gleam like gold in the candlelight.

Someone beats on the door. "Snake?"

"Trish! I'm in here!"

"Thank God. Listen, the card reader is busted. I'm going to find something to open the door."

"Hurry!"

I thrash against the leather cuffs - thrash and yank and wrench so hard it chafes my wrists and ankles. Something slushes against the door. The metal frame fizzles. The door swings open. Trish steps over the steaming puddle, a half-eaten broomstick in one hand. Tossing the broomstick, she rushes to me and undoes one wrist cuff. I go for the other one and the belt while she gets my ankle cuffs. When I'm standing, she throws her arms around me.

"Jesus, I'm glad you're okay. I'm so sorry, Snake. Dick threatened to kill me if I didn't do what he said. I didn't know what else to do - I thought if I went along with it, I could at least find you -"

"We'll talk about it later. Let's get out of here first."

"Be careful: it's hydrochloric acid," she says, leading me over the dissolving floor.

We run to the sub-level elevator. Trish bursts open the stairwell door and starts upstairs.

"Wait, Claire and her brother -"

"We don't have time. We need to get to HCF so we can get the hell off this island before Dick does what he's planning."

"I'm not leaving without them, Trish. They're in this mess because they saved me."

"And I didn't? You don't even know them. They aren't worth risking your life or mine!"

"Then leave without me." I bound down the stairs.

"Snake!" Trish stands on the top step. She tosses me her ID card. "Ten minutes. Got it?"

"Got it." I race down the next flight.