Chapter 43
The surgical bay's lighthead moons overhead. The woman in the photo glares at me.
"Her name was Sylvia. And she was the only genuinely good person I've ever met."
Dick appears above me. The tray rests next to the gurney, the tools angled so they gleam brightly. Dr. Cabot looms ghost-like at the end of the gurney, his eyes shining white. I lie naked, bound by leather straps and cuffs. Fresh, pearly scars slice me all over like tiger stripes. I ache too much to fight or struggle, so I just stare at the lighthead.
"She was a file clerk at the hospital where I worked," Dick says. "It was her first job out of college. She'd studied English Literature. Loved Keats and Thoreau. She thought about becoming a teacher because she loved children and wanted to help them. It was such a charming notion, doing something to help others regardless of how much it paid. She made me want to want to help people even when it didn't benefit me. But it didn't work. Marty offered me too much money. Had I not accepted, I have no doubt Sylvia would have become an excellent teacher.
"She noticed I wasn't eating or sleeping. When she confronted me, I insisted it was the island's climate. I knew she didn't believe me. So one night when I did manage to fall asleep, she took my ID card snuck into one of the labs.
"She was furious with me for not telling her. She wanted us to take the research, sneak onboard one of the freight planes, and report what was happening to the government. I told her we couldn't, that people had been caught doing that and then detained for experimentation until death. Even if we somehow made it to the mainland, Gaea had connections who would kill us for leaking information.
"She said, 'But we have to do something, Rich! We can't just let them keep doing this to people! You can't keep doing it at their behest!' I said we had no choice - that we were trapped in Gaea's web for life. She called me a pathetic coward. And she never smiled again.
"From then on, she spent most of her free time on the beach away from everyone, including me. Marty, I thought, would at least sympathize with me since we were old college friends. I told him about her taking my ID card and getting into one of the labs. He assured me she'd come around. In the meantime, he told me, I should keep a close eye on my card. So, she took another researcher's ID card and started breaking into the labs to go through our research and make copies of it.
"That's how she found you, floating in your tank. You had scars all over you from where we'd transplanted countless organs in you, all to no avail. Sooner or later, they all succumbed to the virus. The research on you was the last thing that she copied before she snuck aboard the freight plane bound for the mainland. She must have thought that the sooner she left, the greater chance she had of saving you.
"But she was caught. The guards were waiting for her because the revered 'Dr. Cabot' had informed them of what I'd told him. I didn't even get to say good-bye, to tell her I loved her and how sorry I was. I didn't even know until after it was done and her remains had been incinerated and dumped with the hazardous waste, like garbage. Oh, but at least the virus within you stabilized. You took her organs so you could enjoy a second life as a Frankenstein's monster. The organs of a good person who didn't deserve to die, especially not in the manner she did. A person who was trying to help you."
I swallow the burning in my throat. "I'm sorry."
Dick snorts. "That's what Marty said when he woke up on this gurney and realized I'd been the one to frame him. 'Wait, Dick, wait, I'm sorry, I was just doing what Gaea wanted me to do. I didn't want to do it. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' It was the last thing he said before I shot him full of T-Veronica. It meant nothing then, and it means nothing now."
"What are - What are you going to do with them? After you take them out?" I ask.
"I'm going to cremate them, go to the beach, and scatter them in the ocean. Then 'Dr. Cabot' and I will wait for Chris and the BSAA. Then...I think I'll return to California and live out the remainder of my days in contentment, after I've forced this monster to stab itself in the heart. Speaking of which -" He pulls a knife from the tray, "It's time we begin. Any last words? I'm sure 'Dr. Cabot' would be delighted to hear what his creation has to say in its final moments."
I take a deep breath and will away the burning in my throat, the tears clouding my vision. I close my eyes.
"Please leave Claire and Trish alone," I say.
A siren blares. The emergency light beside the intercom speaker flashes red.
"What?" says Dick.
"The island self-destruct sequence has been activated. Please evacuate Coeus Island immediately," an automated voice says. "The island self-destruct sequence has been activated..."
Growling, Dick slams the knife beside me. "Don't get comfortable."
He storms out of the surgical bay, Dr. Cabot trailing. The door opens gently. Boots tap toward me. It's -
"Claire!" I say. "What are you doing here?"
Tossing some clothes, a pair of sneakers, and my jacket from LAX over the tools, she unfastens the cuffs and straps. "Saving you. Come on."
She pulls me into a sitting position. Pain shoots through me, hot and furious. With her help, I stand and get dressed. The magnum shells are gone.
Claire holds up a walkie talkie. "Trish, I've got him. Where's Mitchell?"
"He followed my footprints to the Viral Research lab."
"Good. We can plant the bomb and trap him down here long enough for Chris and the BSAA to arrive. We're on our way up."
"I'm already here."
Flipping up her red t-shirt, Claire hooks the walkie talkie to her belt. "Let's go."
Grabbing my hand, Claire leads me up the crumbling stairs. We run to the other stairwell. The door and frame lie in splintered pieces. The stairs leading up have collapsed into chunky debris.
"Trish!" Claire yells.
Trish appears above us. Lying on the floor, she reaches toward me. "Take my hand!"
Claire helps me climb the debris. I take hold of Trish's hand. Screaming, she rockets forward. We fall on the floor. Wetness soaks my shirt. Blood. Trish's blood.
"Trish!" I yell.
She burbles bright red blood in response.
Dick and Dr. Cabot stand where Trish appeared. Claire yanks me to my feet, and we run. A tentacle smacks us into the curved wall. Dr. Cabot walks toward us. A gun fires, and a bullet tears through his arm. He turns. Trish shakily re-aims the magnum and fires again. Screaming again, he doubles over and sinks to one knee.
Dick drops down the shaft. He kicks the magnum out of Trish's hand and then kicks her in the gut. She shrieks in agony. Picking up the gun, he aims at us.
Dick shakes his head, smiling. "Claire, Claire, Claire. You can't stay away from trouble."
Claire stands between me and him. I move in front of her. Dr. Cabot takes his place behind Dick.
He laughs. "If you weren't some inhumane monster created from dead body parts, I'd say this was touching. Now come with me, or I will make her death more painful than yours."
"Dick!"
Trish throws a black box. It skitters across the floor to Dr. Cabot. Red numbers flash across the screen: 0:03, 0:02,0:01 -
I throw myself on Claire. The explosion rocks the corridor. Heat sears my back and roasts my bare skin. The floor collapses and tilts sideways. We tumble into the demonstration room.
The siren ceases. Ocean-filtered sunlight dances across the walls and floor. A bloody heap of scorched flesh writhes on the floor. Dick rests motionless near the screeching thing, ashy and bleeding, his legs and right arm blown off. The magnum sits not far away, his hand still clenching the stock. Beyond Dr. Cabot and Dick lies Trish, her limbs splayed like a snow angel's. Bright red stains her white shirt.
"Trish!" I yell.
She doesn't respond.
I start for her. Dr. Cabot screams, a sound as sad as it is pain-filled. He stretches his charred, stumpy arm toward me. Clear fluid fills his white eyes and trails oil-like down his cheeks.
I grab the magnum and wrench Dick's hand off. Four bullets remain. Snapping the chamber shut, I walk to Dr. Cabot, Claire following with the handgun drawn. He points the stump at his beating heart.
I aim the gun. "I don't hate you," I say.
He closes his eyes.
Then he begins to seize. He shrieks as his body balloons and his spines twists and stretches. Bladed legs erupt from his torso. Flipping forward, he turns to face us. The stump's burnt flesh bubbles and melts into a spined hook. Four tentacles explode from his back. Beyond him, Dick clenches his fist, his bloodshot eyes upon us. His wedding band glints in the sleepy light.
Claire and I aim at the centaur-monster and fire. Roaring, it gallops forward. We jump apart. It tears past us and skids to a stop, its bladed legs ripping grooves in the floor. Claire grabs my arm, and we run for the hole where the door used to stand. Dr. Cabot sails over us and lands between us and the hole.
Trotting toward us, he raises his hook. We both fire. A tentacle smacks me against the wall. The magnum spins away. Claire fires again. Roaring, he rears up and stomps the floor. The impact knocks Claire off her feet. I run for the magnum.
"Claire!"
Redfield kneels atop the rubble, a rocket launcher propped upon his shoulder.
"Get down!" he yells.
Claire throws herself on the floor. Redfield fires. The rocket hits Dr. Cabot in the stomach. The fiery explosion blows him apart. Smoking pieces smack the floor like fat raindrops. Redfield drops the launcher and jumps down, the rockets hooked to his belt swishing. Claire hugs him tightly.
"How fortunate," Dick croaks. "You made it back just in time. And the self-destruct sequence seems to have malfunctioned, so you can all just traipse out of here."
"No one's 'traipsing' anywhere - not until the BSAA gets here, which'll be any minute now," says Redfield. "Then you'll get to spend the rest of your miserable life in the hospital ward of a federal penitentiary."
Dick smiles, showing blood-stained teeth. "The more, the merrier."
I pick up the magnum. "He isn't going to make it to the penitentiary," I say, checking the chamber. One bullet remains.
"No, we need him for questioning -"
"Look at him: he's bleeding out so fast he can barely talk. You'll be lucky if he lasts until the BSAA gets here," I say. "He doesn't deserve to live anyway."
Dick laughs, spurting more blood.
Claire takes hold of my arm. "He's a monster, but if you kill him, then you're no better than he is."
Pulling away from her, I stand over him and point the gun at his charred forehead.
"I'll give you a choice," I say. "You can wait for the BSAA and hope you don't die, or I can end it for you."
He frowns. Lifting his shaking hand, he gazes at the wedding band. "She never took hers off. Marty told me when I couldn't find it. She was still wearing it when they burned her."
"Maybe she never gave up hope that you'd become the man she loved again," I say.
His eyes glaze over. He closes them and lets his hand drop.
"Do it," he says.
I pull the trigger. Then I toss the gun. Claire takes my hand and squeezes it.
"Snake?" Trish rasps.
"Trish!" I yell, running to her.
Her eyes are open, and she gasps with each breath. I cradle her and wipe the blood trailing from her mouth. Smiling weakly, she takes hold of my hand. The sleepy sunlight dances across her face.
"Dick?"
"He's dead. They're both dead."
"Good. Listen, you have to get out of here. The system is analyzing the damage right now. When it finishes, the island is going to explode." She opens her other hand. A cap-sealed computer chip lies in her palm. "Here. It's everything you need to know."
"Trish, it doesn't have to be like this. The virus - it saved me - it could save you. All I need is a blade and -"
"I don't want more people to die for me."
"Then we'll find some other way. Just - Trish, please. After all we've been through, you can't just leave me like this."
"For the first time in my life, I like who I am. And it's because of you. I guess that's why I fell in love with you."
My throat burns. My vision blurs. "Oh, Trish."
"It's okay. You have Claire. She cares so much about you. Hold onto her. Now go, and live a long, happy life. That's all I want, Snake. Steve."
Her eyes close. Her hand goes limp. She's gone.