Chapter 4: A Life for a Life

As the ground shook rigorously, the movement of the sand gradually began to pull Pierre and Jon into a forming pit between a series of dunes. Both men ran up the sand, away from what was pulling them in, but to no avail. The rapid hiss of the quaking sand seemed to signal emanate death to the young men. They quickly realized that the force that was pulling them down was compellingly stronger than either man.

As beads of sweat on Jon's forehead began to freely streak down the side of his face, he panicked. "What's going on?! We're going to get sucked in!"

The hot sand sprayed everywhere in a stormed frenzy making the scenario even harder for the both men to escape. Suddenly, as Pierre and Jon struggled to run up the dunes with the last bit of their strength, the shaking ceased. On the ground, Pierre and Jon paused, stricken with terror. They waited to see if the shaking had completely stopped. To their reassurance, they straightened themselves, dusting the sand from their face and clothing, breathlessly. Pierre looked at his surroundings, hypnotized by the continuous heat wave produced by the heating lights above. The faint mirage of an exit made running toward it sound tempting just as long as it got him away from the intense heat. Besides that, Pierre saw nothing but more sand.

"Well, whatever it was, it has stopped." Pierre said as if nothing had ever happened, his calm and confident attitude returning.

"Jeez, aren't deserts supposed to have back doors to them?" Jon asked as he wiped his damp forehead with the back of his hand.

Pierre turned to him, his eyes glaring through Jon. He shook his head. "Come on, let's find a way out of this hell hole."

With the slightest bit of determination, they began to retreat toward the top of a small dune.

"I'll be damned if I ever let my kid play in a sandbox." Jon muttered.

"You'll be damned if you ever have one at all." Pierre replied. "Stop worrying about things like that."

"Why should I? You didn't seem too worried about what would happen after you stepped on that scorpion."

Pierre opened his mouth to resent that remark but instead said nothing. He frowned, "Shut up."

They reached the top of the dune, overlooking most of the "desert." It was quite a large area that was completely covered with sand. Jon believed, and seeing how well built it was, it must have been some kind of habitat for animals. The intensity of the heat that radiated off the lights seemed unnecessary to Jon, they really didn't play along with a desert environment. It was better said that this place was an oven rather than anything else. Surely the desert wasn't this hot but for some reason it was.

"You think it rains in here?" Pierre asked as he squinted his eyes in order to glance up at the dark red heating lights. He noticed a scattered amount of water dispensers built beside the lamps.

"Wouldn't be complete without occasional rain."

"You seem sure of that."

"I'm sure of most things."

Pierre and Jon were officially exhausted despite the fact that they had only been in the facility for two hours. They stayed amid sand, the heat wave adding to their confusion, still catching their breath.

"I always knew Umbrella was full of it." Pierre observed after a few moments. "Come on, let's go."

The two men began their descent down the dune in utter silence. The shaking was a fluke; Pierre thought defiantly, it'd take more than a mere earthquake to terrify him. It wasn't until long after that Jon regained his composure and was no longer afraid of the rumbling that had taken place before.

Pierre walked steadily, his head up high as if he feared nothing in the world. Jon, however, was uneasy. No sooner did both men began to walk, Jon suddenly paused.

Pierre turned to him. "What's the mat-"?

Jon raised his hand in the air to interrupt. He absently stared at the ground. "Shh.do you hear that?"

Pierre didn't. "What is it?"

"Listen," whispered Jon.

Pierre leaned closer to the sand, but heard nothing more but the buzz of radiation and the faint hiss of sand, but as he concentrated more Pierre could almost make out the slight sound of.

"Scratching. I hear something scratching against the sand. It sounds distant though."

"Exactly."

Pierre furrowed his eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're afraid."

"I'm not." Jon lied. In fact, he was still terrified but failed to admit it.

Pierre stared at him in disbelief. "Liar." He smirked.

Pierre coolly walked passed Jon back to where they had started their descent a moment ago. Pierre wanted to see what was making that noise, and to prove to Jon that it was nearly his imagination and cowardice. He retreated his steps and paused atop of the dune once more. Pierre scanned the area, and just as he had thought, there was nothing there.

"What do you see?" Jon called out.

"There's nothing. It's just your imagina-"

Pierre caught a glimpse at something moving against the sand. It was black from what he could make out of it. He took a few steps closer. The thing appeared to be a claw making its way out of the ground. It scratched hastily. As soon as it dug a small circle, it went underground. Pierre could hear Jon calling in the distance but he paid no attention to him. He was too busy wondering what the hell that thing was.

Pierre's unawareness of what was hidden underground became an immediate alert when suddenly another shaking began. This time something was bound to erupt from the ground. Pierre held his stance and didn't dare to move.

Before he knew it, the head of an enormous creature protruded from under the sand. It screeched loudly, wriggling itself out to the light like a snake. Closely resembling an oversized scorpion, it advanced toward Pierre with a menacing crawl as its front claws snapped left and right.

The scorpion-like monster was approximately seven feet in height, including its tail, from what Pierre judged, and had fangs sharp enough to split a strand of hair. It was solid black and a slimy substance covered its body like an oil; causing the scorpion's armor-like body to glisten in the light. Its glowing eyes glared at Pierre, as it fought wildly to free itself from its sand prison. Its wild movements seeming almost like a dance.

"Pierre!"

It sounded like an illusionary command from Jon, but Pierre had no will to respond because of the danger of making a bad move in the presence of the creature. He never expected something like this monster in real life; not even if a chemical plant had documents for producing one, but only in his fictional world did he ever expect something of this creation's sort to appear before his eyes. It still hadn't occurred to him that his life was at stake, as he stood there admiring the creature.

The scorpion screeched again in deafening anguish, this time only a few feet from where Pierre stood. The rancid stink of death washed over him as he tried to think of an act of evasion. Inside his mind Pierre tried to convince himself that the feeling he was getting wasn't panic. He turned on his heel to run, right before the scorpion snapped its fangs for the first flesh-ripping bite, and began to run for his life.

"Start running you bastard, don't just stand there!" Pierre screamed.

Jon stared at him with sudden question, oblivious to the fact that Pierre was being pursued. As soon as he saw the two claws and fangs of the huge scorpion from far away, Jon, too, froze momentarily, not from admiration as Pierre had but from fear. He began to run; unaware that he was leaving Pierre in the dust.

The scorpion was on Pierre's tail closer than he expected it to be. It pounced on him, knocking him down face first into the sand and pinned him onto the ground with its left and right front legs. Its mouth oozed with a strange acidic liquid. The creature was heavy enough to break one of Pierre's ribs and he wished that it were possible for one of them to puncture his heart instantly instead of dying in this position. But he knew he had to make an effort. What kind of man would that show the others?

"Jon! I could use a hand here!"

Jon heard the faint cry and instantly stopped dashing across the sand to turn back. He saw the whole scenario; Pierre was struggling against the monster's hold and, if Jon stalled anymore, it may just kill Pierre right on the spot. If he ran all the way over there it might chase after him too and put him in greater danger. Suddenly Jon remembered his gun. A jolt of a new idea sparked him as he soon began running back once again. He stopped at mid distance from himself and the monster, crouched down, and aimed and shot three successive bullets from the gun.

One bullet pierced the scorpion's head. It released Pierre from under itself and scurried backwards a few steps from confusion. With no tendency to stop whatsoever, Pierre got up and ran as fast as he could. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the bullet had stunned the scorpion for the time being.

"Come on, come on, come on!" yelled Jon.

Both men ran side by side as they approached the "end" of the desert room, a chain linked fence opening protected a small room indented within a stoned wall. Inside the small space, several devices could be seen including a computer that seemed to be turned on. There was also a door with an exit sign above it. They were relieved for a moment until both men realized that their pace had drastically reduced from a fast run to a slow and sluggish jog.

"What the hell?" Jon said as he gradually stopped.

Pierre glanced at his boots which where lower than lace deep in thick, muddy sand.

"Holy shit, it's quicksand!"

"Perfect." Pierre gritted his teeth in frustration.

"It looks like the scorpion baby's momma doesn't quit," Jon said as he pointed toward the mother scorpion that was now charging at them full speed.

They struggled against the thickness of the sand to try and reach the ledge of the room, raising their legs higher than average with each step to walk as if they strode across a floor of slushy concrete. Before they knew it, the scorpion entered the quicksand area right behind Pierre and Jon.

"Come on, get up the goddamn ledge!" Insisted Pierre hastily.

Pierre had already reached the ledge, as opposed to Jon who was still struggling to keep his balance in the quicksand at shin deep.

"It would probably be a good idea for you to hurry up a little," Pierre said as he pulled his Berretta out of his waist band.

"Jesus, don't you think I know that?" Jon protested as he fought to make his way over to Pierre.

Pierre pulled his gun level with Jon's head. Jon looked up and immediately shut his eyes as tight as he could as he saw Pierre pull the trigger.

"Keep your ass moving," Pierre barked to Jon.

Jon looked up and found that Pierre had not shot him, but instead had gone right over his right shoulder to land the shot into the creature's head.

"Nice going." Jon said as he reached for Pierre's hand. He held on to Pierre as much as he could, using every muscle in his arm not to let go. Pierre pulled Jon toward the ledge, the giant scorpion right behind Jon every moment moving in for a strike with its tail. Jon could feel the hot breath of the creature behind him and awaited for it to finally bite his legs off until finally Pierre dragged him into the device room and shut the chain linked door. He was covered with sand yet still alive

"My life for yours, not an even trade in my view, but now were even. Next time you won't be so lucky," Pierre hissed as they entered the room.

Just then the scorpion hit the door with an extraordinary amount of force.

"It doesn't give up." Jon said as he got up from the floor. He noticed

the Umbrella logo on the computer's screensaver. He wiped his hand on a clean spot of his shirt and touched the monitor.

WELCOME TO THE DRYLAND HABITAT FOR ARACHNID X PROTOCOL-0003

PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD: ___________

"Damn. We need a password for this. Any suggestions?" Pierre asked.

"I don't think I'm gonna come up with the right six digit answer, Pierre."

Pierre grunted. He searched through the other machines around the computer and papers on a nearby table. He found various documents concerning the Arachnid creature, but paid no attention to it for now.

"Hey, what's this?" Jon asked as he grabbed a card from the table. It was white bearing Umbrella's logo on the front. On the backside it had a set of digits. It probably belonged to the worker in charge of the place.

"Well, look at that. Today is our lucky day." Pierre grabbed the card and read the numbers on the back. He typed them on the screen.

PASSWORD: *******

ACCESS GRANTED

WELCOME

The screen displayed various options. Pierre wasn't sure which one was best.

"You better hurry. Momma scorpion isn't too happy." Jon stated.

Pierre figured that it would be easier to work if the temperature wasn't so high. He pressed WEATHER CONTROL. Suddenly several options appeared on screen. He searched for one that regulated heating. Pierre then pressed DAYTIME WEATHER. As if on cue, another set of squares appeared.

SHUT OFF HEATING LIGHTS? Y/N

He pressed yes.

WARNING: TURNING OFF HEATING LIGHTS MAY RESULT IN HARMFUL DAMAGE TO EXOSKELETON OF ARACHNID X. IT IS IMPORTANT TO KEEP TEMPERATURE AT HIGH. DO YOU WISH TO CONTINUE? Y/N

Pierre clicked yes. That's my intention, he thought.

Suddenly the heating lights turned off in rows. The room was left in complete darkness save for the illumination of the monitor. The scorpion backed away confused. Another set of squares appeared before Pierre.

NIGHTTIME WEATHER

DO YOU WISH TO ACTIVATE RAIN MODE? Y/N

Again, Pierre pressed yes. The habitat changed its setting. Instead of the hot and blazing red heat that had radiated in the room when the two men came in, a dull blue light shone throughout the room. The water dispensers began to drain out water. The scorpion, being used to the intense heat began to scurry frenziedly around to avoid water contact.

Jon laughed. "When it rains, it pours."

The scorpion was stuck into the thick quicksand. It shrieked in agony for reasons unknown to both Pierre and Jon.

"Come on. Let's leave this thing alone." Pierre insisted. They took a last look at the vulnerable giant scorpion and exited through the door Jon looked back once more and looked at the dying creature and wondered. Forgetting his thoughts, he shook his head and left.