36: Duty And The Beast
The four terrified survivors backed away until they hit one of the glass tanks behind them. All the while, the Tyrant loomed over them like the shadow of impending death. Dr Harlech was trembling like a leaf.
"Get them out of here," she said hoarsely.
"What?" said Amber.
"Get the kids out of here, Amber," repeated the scientist. "I'll deal with this."
"Are you insane? You can't take on that thing by yourself!" exclaimed Amber.
"I have to. That thing is my responsibility," said Dr Harlech, her voice shaking.
"Look, I know you feel guilty about what happened, but you're talking about fighting a Tyrant!" cried Amber. "It's not just a big zombie! It's one of Umbrella's toughest bioweapons, and unless you have a rocket launcher hidden underneath that lab coat of yours, there is no way in hell that you can defeat it! It will kill you! Do you want to die?"
Dr Harlech swallowed.
"No. I don't want to die. But I have to do this," she whispered.
"No, you don't! You didn't create this thing! This is not your responsibility!"
"Someone has to fight it," said Dr Harlech stubbornly.
"But it'll kill you if you fight it!" protested Amber.
"It'll kill us all if I don't!" snapped Dr Harlech. "If we run out of here, it's just going to come after us! I have to kill it now!"
"At least let me help you!" Amber pleaded. "You can't do this alone!"
"Look, don't worry about me! Worry about Jack and Lisa! They're the ones that need to be looked after, so get them out of here right now!" said Dr Harlech. "I don't matter - they do!"
Amber looked from the scientist to the Tyrant, which was still staring at them as if it was trying to decide exactly how to deal with the puny little humans. She looked at Jack and Lisa, who were cowering behind her, and came to a decision.
"Jack! Lisa! Get out of here! Go and find Renée! We'll handle this!" she ordered.
"But Amber - " Lisa protested.
"But nothing, Lisa! Do as you're told!" yelled Amber, pulling out her handgun. The Tyrant was striding forwards in a way that suggested that it meant business, and not the civilised nine-to-five variety either.
Jack nodded dumbly and ran for the door. Just before she went to follow him, Lisa turned back and took in the scene: a policewoman and a frightened scientist standing in a room full of dead bodies, about to take on one of the T-Virus' most dreadful creations with nothing more than a handgun. A lump came to her throat as she realised that this could be the last time she saw Amber or Dr Harlech.
"A-Amber? Dr H? Promise you'll come back, okay?" she said faintly.
"We promise, Lisa!" said Amber quickly. "Now hurry! Find Renée, she'll keep you safe!"
Lisa disappeared, slamming the door behind her as she left. The Tyrant's head swivelled towards the door.
"Hey! Over here, butt-ugly!" shouted Amber, throwing the first thing she could think of to draw the creature's attention away from the teenagers' escape route. "Come and get us!"
Her briefcase bounced off the Tyrant's head and skidded across the floor. The Tyrant growled, and turned back to face them.
"Why didn't you go with them?" yelled Dr Harlech, as the Tyrant headed in their direction. "Renée could be anywhere in this facility! There's no guarantee that they'll even find her! If both of us die and something else finds them before Renée does, they'll be in real trouble!"
"I know! But I'm not leaving you here to die, Clarissa!" Amber yelled back. "I promised myself I wouldn't abandon anybody again!"
"That's very considerate of you, Amber, but - oh, shit, look out!"
The Tyrant took a swipe at them, but missed as the two women ducked; instead the blow connected with the tank that they'd been standing in front of. The glass smashed, pouring formaldehyde everywhere.
Dr Harlech and Amber rolled out of the way as the liquid streamed across the floor and the deformed body of an unfortunate civilian tumbled out of the broken tank, landing on the floor with a smack.
"What are we going to do?" said Amber, as they took cover behind the desks.
"Aim for the head and the heart," said Dr Harlech. "The report said the exposed heart was a problem, and I recall you saying that head shots work on zombies!"
"You think that'll work?"
"I really hope so, because it's the only strategy we have right now!"
They peered cautiously over the top of the desks. The Tyrant was turning its head this way and that, apparently looking around the room for them. Suddenly its head swivelled, and they saw it look straight at them.
Instinctively they ducked back down again, their hearts in their mouths. The ground trembled as the Tyrant strode towards them.
"How am I going to kill that with a handgun?" said Amber, struggling to make herself heard over the noise of the Tyrant's footsteps.
"You don't have to, Amber!" Dr Harlech shouted back. "Just distract it for me!"
The Tyrant stopped just in front of the desks. Without so much as a roar, it let its thick-set arms slam into the furniture, smashing it apart. Amber and Dr Harlech scrambled out of the way just in time as splintered wood and paperwork flew everywhere. The Tyrant picked up a large piece of one of the stricken desks, and raised it high above its head, ready to toss it at the helpless women.
Thoughts hurtled through Amber's mind at the speed of light as she tried to come up with a plan.
Okay, okay… it's a Tyrant, a bioweapon which you need powerful weapons to defeat. I have a handgun, which won't work, and Clarissa has absolutely nothing more lethal than a First Aid spray. How the hell am I supposed to distract this thing? And even if I can distract it, what is Clarissa going to do? Spray it to death?
She looked around quickly, scanning the room in the hope that some mysterious force had left a grenade launcher lying around somewhere for her own personal use.
Nope. Nothing but tanks and splintered wood and puddles of formaldehyde…
A piece of paper, propelled out of the wreckage of the desks and into the air by the Tyrant's movement, wafted across the room and settled at Amber's feet.
And a piece of paper. Fabulous. So… what can we do about this situation? Aim for the heart and head, yes, but major weaponry is needed here, or any weaponry in fact - hell, even something crude like a Molotov cocktail would do!
"Amber!" yelled Dr Harlech, from across the room. "Don't just stand there! Do something!"
Amber stared at the Tyrant, which was poised to throw the lump of wood. The creature seemed to be frozen in time, just like everything else in the room; even Dr Harlech's yells seemed to be coming from far away.
Can I make a weapon out of what's here in this room? No containers for a Molotov, but is that really necessary? What would I actually need? I'd need something flammable and something to light it with, and -
Wait… paper's flammable, wood's flammable, and so is formaldehyde! And that thing just broke out of a tank full of the stuff!
Amber's lips formed a thin, humourless smile. She knew what to do now. Quick as a flash, she scooped up the piece of paper from the floor. Snatching the lighter from the breast pocket of her shirt, she rolled the paper into a ball and ignited it.
She drew back her hand, and hurled the paper ball at the Tyrant. The burning paper bounced harmlessly off the creature's nose, and then -
Whoomph.
The fireball almost knocked Amber off her feet. Staggering, she looked up to see the Tyrant ablaze. Tongues of fire flickered along the creature's body as it roared with pain.
Come on, die, die, die, die, die...
But the Tyrant defied Amber's expectations. Instead of sinking to the floor and collapsing into a burning heap of ash, it just looked angrier than ever, and it tossed the piece of shattered desk, now aflame, across the room.
Amber screamed, and dived out of the way. The burning desk fragments crashed into another tank, which shattered and then burst into flames as the contents caught fire.
The whole room was a raging inferno; the air was thick with foul-smelling smoke and the floor was a sea of burning liquid. Tank after tank began to explode in the heat, and the flames rose higher.
"Oh, great! Nice going!" snarled Dr Harlech. "It's a hideous bioweapon which can't be defeated with anything less than a Magnum - and now it's on fire! Just like everything else! Well that's just great. Amber, when I told you to do something, I did not mean that! Fire won't kill a Tyrant!"
"How do you know?" Amber snapped back. "I thought you didn't know anything about Tyrants, Clarissa!"
Without warning, a shrill buzzing sound filled the room; the smoke had set off the fire detection system installed in the ceiling. Water began pouring down from the sprinklers above their heads like an unexpected monsoon.
"I don't know anything about Tyrants!" shouted the scientist, wiping water droplets from her glasses with her sleeve. "But I know that while you may be right and completely incinerating a monster's corpse will kill it for good, simply being on fire won't stop normal zombies! One of the zombie dogs I killed was on fire, and that didn't stop it from trying to rip my throat out! Why should a Tyrant be any different?"
The fires in the room were almost out now, hissing and sputtering as the sprinklers extinguished them. Amber gaped at Dr Harlech, not even noticing the smouldering Tyrant trudging through the ankle-deep water towards them.
"You're right," she said. "But how are we going to beat it? I can't kill it!"
"I know! That's why I told you to distract it!" snapped Dr Harlech.
"But you can't kill it either! You don't even have any weapons!" cried Amber.
"I - Amber, watch out!" screamed Dr Harlech, pointing to something behind Amber.
"Wh - ?" began Amber, but she didn't even get chance to turn around. Before she even knew what was going on, she found herself snatched up off the floor and raised high into the air as huge, smoke-blackened fingers tightened around her throat.
Amber, gasping for breath, tried to struggle free of the Tyrant's grasp. When that didn't work, she tried aiming a kick at its shins, hoping that the blow would catch it off guard and make it loosen its hold on her. Instead, the creature's grip increased still further.
Amber's eyes bulged. She raised her hands, trying ineffectually to prise the Tyrant's fingers from around her throat. It was no use. It wouldn't let go, and she couldn't make it let go, no matter how much she kicked and struggled.
This is it, thought Amber muzzily, as she looked at the face of her captor. This time, it really is the end. That thing's face is the last thing I'm ever going to see. I'm going to die. I've let everybody down, especially Jack and Lisa. I promised them I'd come back… but now I'm going to die. I'm really going to die.
"No!" yelled Dr Harlech. "Let go of her, you big ugly freak!"
The Tyrant, still smouldering, stared stonily at the petite scientist, who was almost incandescent with rage. Amber was barely conscious now, but she was just alert enough to vaguely notice Dr Harlech pulling something shiny and metallic from one of the many pockets of her lab coat.
"I said put her down!"
Through the mists of semi-consciousness, Amber could hear several loud bangs, and she vaguely wondered what they were. Perhaps it was the sound of more tanks exploding.
Something made the Tyrant stagger, and its grip on Amber loosened - then it threw her away like a rag doll. Amber felt herself falling as the world faded to black and all sensation slipped away, and she realised that this was the end.
Goodbye world…
Amber's body hit the knee-deep water with a splash. The water closed in over her head as she sank to the bottom, and a few bubbles rose up to the surface, popping one by one.
----------
"We should go back," panted Lisa, as she and Jack ran back through the door in the storeroom and out into the corridor again. "Dr H and Amber can't take that thing on their own."
"An' we can?" said Jack. "No way, Lise. Remember what Amber say 'bout Tyrants? Rocket launchers or Magnums. We only got handguns, an' they ain't gonna hurt a thing like that. If we go back, we go back with more firepower."
"In that case, we really need to find Renée," said Lisa. "She's got an assault rifle - she can look after us and help them."
"Where you think she could be?" said Jack.
"I have absolutely no idea," Lisa admitted. "I just hope she hasn't gone back up in the elevator. We'll never find her again if she has; this building is too big for us to search on our own. Do you think she's still here, Jack?"
"Yeah, she gotta be round here somewhere," said Jack. "She run out 'cause she see somethin' horrible, so maybe she just go somewhere for a while so she can get over the shock. I dunt think she would leave us here just 'cause she see somethin' gross."
"I think you're right," said Lisa. "Renée never struck me as being a coward. I just wish we had some idea of where she could - "
Jack stopped, and grabbed Lisa by the shoulder.
"I hear somethin' up ahead," he hissed. "Keep quiet."
They tiptoed along the corridor, and sure enough, there was the sound of someone's voice, just on the edge of hearing. It became louder and clearer as they approached a junction in the corridor, and they realised that whoever was speaking had to be just around the corner from where they were standing.
Lisa and Jack pressed themselves flat against the wall, and listened. The speaker sounded nervous, agitated, and there was a hint of desperation in the voice.
"… no, I can't do this. My job? I don't know whatmy job is any more. The whole purpose of my job seems to change every five minutes. I've been told to save people, then told I'm a - a test subject - and now this? Well, I'm not doing this. No. No way. Not for money, not for promotion, not for anything. But - oh, no. No, they wouldn't, surely!"
A pause.
"… but they would, wouldn't they? I can't let that happen. I really don't want to do this, but I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I? All right then. I'll do it - but only because I have to."
There was a rustle of clothing, like the sound of someone getting up. Lisa and Jack stiffened in fright. They were just about to turn and run away when Renée came around the corner. She looked profoundly unhappy about something. She was apparently so lost in thought that she walked right past Jack and Lisa without even seeing them.
"Renée?" said Lisa hesitantly.
Renée jumped, and turned around so fast that she almost fell over backwards.
"Lisa? Jack? What are you doing here?" she said tersely.
"We were looking for you," said Lisa, taken aback by Renée's tone of voice. "Renée, are you okay?"
Renée opened her mouth, said nothing for a second, then sighed.
"Yeah," she said glumly. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just - just talking to myself."
"You sure you be okay, Renée? They say talkin' to youself be the first sign of madness, dunt they?" said Jack, concerned.
Renée smiled a little, and shook her head.
"Nothing wrong with talking to yourself," she said, and now she sounded more like her usual cheerful self. "It's when you start answering yourself that you know you've got problems. So where are the others?"
"That's why we came to find you," said Lisa hurriedly, grabbing Renée's hand and dragging her back down the corridor. "Amber and Dr H are in really big trouble!"
"Trouble?" said Renée, breaking into a run. "What kind of trouble?"
"They're fighting a Tyrant, Renée, and they only have one handgun between them! Please, Renée, we need your help! They're going to die if you don't help them!" cried Lisa.
"Okay, so what's a Tyrant? I've never seen one of those before," said Renée.
"This big pale guy twice my height an' no nearly as good-lookin', an' real tough - we need real powerful guns to kill him! They told us to go an' find you!" said Jack.
"All right, I don't know how to beat it either, but I'll do the best I can," said Renée grimly. "Come on, we'd better hurry…"
----------
Blood was trickling into the rising water, forming a cloud of red haze around the Tyrant's legs as it streamed down from the bullet wounds in the creature's torso.
Dr Harlech whimpered slightly as she took aim again, her hands trembling from fear and cold. The problem was that the wretched thing kept dodging all the time, even managing to deflect bullets somehow. There was no way a creature that size could be so fast, and yet it moved with terrifying speed and agility.
It moved again, lunging forward and reaching out to grab her by the throat. Dr Harlech screamed and threw herself out of the way. Unfortunately she hadn't noticed that the water was now almost up to her waist; instead of falling onto her hands and knees, she landed face-first into ice-cold water.
Dr Harlech picked herself up again, gasping for air. Half-running and half-swimming through the water to get away from the monster, she managed to get halfway across the room before the Tyrant turned around. At the same time, panicking, she turned and took a wild shot at her tormentor.
Unprepared for the attack, the Tyrant had no time to avoid it, and the bullet struck the creature in the heart. Blood spurted out of the ruptured organ and poured down the monster's chest like a crimson waterfall.
Elated though she was by this small victory over her enemy, Dr Harlech knew she hadn't won yet. The Tyrant would almost certainly bleed to death, but in the meantime it could still pick her up and shake the life out of her. She had to act fast…
The Tyrant had stopped in its tracks; it was raising its hand and touching its sticky, bloodstained chest, apparently puzzled by what had happened to it. Dr Harlech raised her gun again, aiming it carefully and trying to keep her hands steady.
"Hey, you!" she yelled. "Yes, you! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
The Tyrant's head jerked upwards, and Dr Harlech pulled the trigger. With a bang that seemed to fill the whole world, the bullet tore through the air and pierced the Tyrant's forehead.
The world held absolutely still for a moment; then, swaying, the Tyrant dropped to its knees. Blood was gushing from the gaping hole in its head. Torn between triumph and slight nausea, Dr Harlech watched as the Tyrant finally pitched forward and landed face-down in the water with a splash.
"Right between the eyes," she said to herself. "Amber was - "
She suddenly realised that Amber was nowhere in sight, and panicked.
"Amber!" she shrieked, wading through the water towards the spot where she'd last seen the young policewoman. Sure enough, there was Amber's body, floating face-up and bobbing gently up and down in the water.
"Amber… oh God…!"
Dr Harlech struggled towards her floating friend and tried to haul Amber's limp form out of the water. Amber's face was ashen and her eyes were closed; it didn't look like she was breathing.
"Amber, please don't be dead!" cried Dr Harlech, wiping strands of Amber's wet hair away from her face and feeling desperately for a pulse. "You can't die! Not now!"
There was a weak pulse beneath Dr Harlech's fingers. The scientist breathed out, relieved that Amber was still showing at least one vital sign.
"Okay, Amber," said Dr Harlech aloud, "It looks like you could do with some artificial respiration…"
She looked around quickly, then groaned. The room was completely flooded and, thanks to the Tyrant's destruction of the desks, there were no flat surfaces of any kind to put Amber on.
"Great. Now what?"
----------
Renée slowed to a halt as she came to the secret door of the storeroom. Water, slightly discoloured, was seeping out from underneath the door in the passage beyond. She stepped cautiously into the corridor, her brow wrinkling gently in a frown.
"What on earth…?"
She stopped at the door, looked down at the water pooling at her feet, and stooped to look closer. The eyes of Jack and Lisa were on her - she could feel their stares boring into her back like a diamond drill - but she was too disconcerted to care.
"What's wrong, Renée?" said Lisa.
"Yeah, an' why the floor be all wet?" said Jack.
"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," said Renée firmly, and she stood up, striding towards the door and glaring at it as it swung aside. Jack and Lisa looked at each other, shrugged, and followed.
Jack shuddered at the sight of the body storage unit, and hurried past it as quickly as possible, forgetting that the floor was wet.
"Whoa!"
His foot slipped on the wet floor tiles and he skidded across the room for several seconds, before falling flat on his back near one of the gore-spattered operating tables. Lisa clapped both hands to her mouth, horrified.
"Jack!" she called, and hurried over to pick him up. "Jack, are you hurt?"
"Nah, my backpack kinda give me a soft landin'. I be okay, Lise," he said, as she helped him to her feet. "Watch out for the floor, it be real slippery."
Renée was already at the door of the secret testing lab by the time Jack and Lisa joined her. There was a lot more water here, some of it stained with dark red. There was no sound from the other side of the door except the hiss of falling water. The silence and the water's scarlet discoloration made their blood run cold.
"Hang on, you guys! I'm coming in!" Renée bellowed, grabbing her rifle with one hand and reaching for the doorknob with the other.
The door creaked ominously. Lisa and Jack, whose instincts for impending danger had been honed to near-perfection by the events of the past twenty-four hours, turned and fled.
Renée shrugged, and opened the door. Seconds later, a wall of water knocked her right off her feet.
From the safety of the desk they were standing on, Lisa and Jack watched in shocked silence until the last of the water and debris had rushed out of the room. Renée got up, cursing and spitting water.
"You know, I really hate this place," she said to the world in general. "I can't wait until we get out of here."
Jack and Lisa jumped down from the desk, their sneakers hitting the wet floor with a splash, and followed Renée inside.
Dr Harlech was sprawled on the wet, glass-strewn floor next to Amber's lifeless form. Soaking wet and shivering with cold, she looked up at their approach. Renée looked up at the sprinklers, which were still running, and then down in bewilderment at the floor.
"What happened in here?" Renée exclaimed.
"Long story, and I don't have time," came Dr Harlech's brusque reply as she bent over Amber's body. "Amber's not breathing and I need to give her the kiss of life. Thanks for clearing the floor for me, though."
Renée glanced back at the room behind her, which was now awash with dirty water and pieces of sodden paper, broken wood and shards of glass.
"Uh… no problem," she said.
Dr Harlech carefully laid Amber on the floor, and prised open her friend's mouth. Holding Amber's nose tightly, she took a deep breath, then placed her mouth gingerly over Amber's and blew air straight into her lungs.
With a sound somewhere between a hiccup and a splutter, Amber twitched, then her eyes shot open and she sat bolt upright. Coughing violently and shivering with cold, she pushed Dr Harlech aside and fell forward onto her hands and knees, gasping for breath as she spat up mouthfuls of water.
"Th-thanks, Clarissa," she gasped.
"Are you all right?" said Dr Harlech, helping Amber to her feet.
Amber nodded her head.
"That's good," said Dr Harlech, looking relieved. "But please don't scare me like that again. I don't think my nerves can take much more of this…"
Renée looked around the room, and her eyes came to rest on the body of the fallen Tyrant.
"Wow," she said, clearly impressed. "I guess you didn't need our help after all…"
Amber saw the Tyrant too, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"You killed that thing all by yourself?" she said to Dr Harlech.
"Uh-huh," said Dr Harlech, whose face was aglow with quiet pride.
"But how?"
"With this."
Dr Harlech handed over her weapon of choice to the policewoman. Amber took it, and her eyebrows rose even further as she realised what she was holding.
"A Magnum? Where in the hell did you get this? And don't tell me you just happened to find it lying around, because I won't believe a word of it. The only place you find a Magnum lying around is in video games."
"Oh, no, this is mine," said Dr Harlech earnestly. "After I was advised not to leave the project, one of my colleagues warned me that once the project was complete, the company might decide that I was a security risk and therefore, shall we say, surplus to requirements. I took his advice and bought this to protect myself."
"You bought a Magnum for self-defence?" said Renée, amazed.
"Look, some of the researchers are so afraid of this company that they won't even go to the bathroom in their own house without bodyguards," said Dr Harlech. "And I don't blame them. This company's idea of an equal opportunities policy is giving you a 50/50 chance of still being alive at the end of the week! I've seen what happens to you when you get into their bad books, and I wasn't about to let it happen to me."
"Very sensible of you," said Amber, nodding. "But why didn't you tell us about this before? We could have used an extra weapon."
"Because I'm down to eight bullets. I'm saving those for dire emergencies only."
"Did just now count?" said Amber.
"It absolutely did," said Dr Harlech. "But don't expect me to use the rest of these bullets unless I really have to, okay?"
"Sure thing," said Amber. "They're yours anyway. Just be sure to share them with the rest of us if something huge and horrible with ten heads jumps out on us in the corridor."
"I can't believe you took on that thing all by yourself," said Lisa, staring in wonderment at the dead Tyrant.
"I no can believe you take on that thing all by youself an' you win," said Jack, also staring at the body. "Wow."
"I'm just glad it's over," said Dr Harlech fervently. "And I never, ever want to do that again. Not ever."
"Let's hope you won't have to," said Amber.
"Uh… Amber?" said Lisa, bending down to pick something up from the floor.
"What is it, Lisa?" said Amber.
"Isn't this yours?"
Lisa held up Amber's camera. Total submersion in freezing water and less than careful handling had not been kind to it; it was badly damaged and dripping water. Amber gave a cry of dismay.
"My camera!"
She took the broken camera from Lisa's hands and stared mournfully at it as water oozed out of its every orifice.
"Oh, no," she groaned. "Now we don't have any proof that they were kidnapping people for experiments! Damn, damn, damn! Why does this keep happening to me? I have the worst luck in the world!"
"Maybe I could fix it," supplied Renée. "I'm good at fixing things."
"I don't think you can fix this," said Amber gloomily. "It's ruined."
"But I could still get the film out, if I opened the camera in a proper dark-room," said Renée. "That way the film won't become overexposed when I take it out - and if the film is still intact, I might even be able to develop the pictures for you."
"Picking locks, field medicine, photographic development, zombie-killing… you're a woman of many talents, Renée," said Dr Harlech, smiling.
"Well, I do my humble best," said Renée modestly.
"You really think we can save these photographs?" said Amber.
"I expect so," said Renée. "Just put the camera somewhere nice and dark for now, so no light can get in through the cracks."
"Okay," said Amber. "I'll put in my br - "
She stopped, and a look of utter panic crossed her face.
"My briefcase! Where's my briefcase?" she cried, looking around for the briefcase that she'd thrown at the Tyrant. It was nowhere in sight.
"Dunt know. It ain't in here," said Jack.
"Oh no, oh no," said Amber frantically. "Not the briefcase too! Oh, God, where is it? I have to find it! I can't leave here until I find it!"
"We'll find it, Amber, don't worry. It can't have gone far," said Dr Harlech comfortingly. "All right, everyone spread out and look for Amber's briefcase. You all know what it looks like - it's the one we found in Dr Morton's office. A black leather case with a whole bunch of documents in."
They began to search the room, lifting up what little remained of the desks and moving aside piles of wood, wet paper and broken glass. Renée and Dr Harlech even managed to lift the Tyrant's corpse for a few seconds so that they could check underneath it.
"Nope, it's not under this guy," said Renée, letting the Tyrant's body slam back onto the floor again. "Where on earth could it be?"
"I've found it!" called Lisa from outside the room, and she came in holding the briefcase out in front of her.
Amber gave a squeak of delight as she saw it.
"My briefcase! Good girl, Lisa! Oh, I hope the documents are okay…"
She opened the briefcase, and breathed out. One or two of the papers near the top were slightly damp, but otherwise the contents of the briefcase had remained undamaged by the water.
"Thank God for that… I thought I'd lost them. The photographs I might have been able to manage without, but losing these would have been a real problem," she said, slipping the broken camera inside and closing the briefcase again. "All right, we've wasted enough time in here. Let's leave before something else smashes out of a tank."
Jack and Lisa were the first to run out of the room, not daring to look back in case Amber's prediction came true. Amber and Dr Harlech sauntered out after them, grateful that they were alive, the Tyrant was dead, and Amber's precious evidence was still safe.
Renée was the last to leave. She took one look back at the dead Tyrant and the devastation inside the room, shuddered delicately, and shut the door behind her. She caught up with Dr Harlech a few seconds later.
"That's a really nice Magnum you've got there, Dr H," she said thoughtfully, looking at the gun in the scientist's hand.
"Thank you," said Dr Harlech sweetly. "You can't have it."
"I don't suppose I could…?"
"No."
"I just want to - "
"No."
"Well do you think I could - "
"Absolutely not."
"But - "
"No."
"But all I want to do is - "
"Forget it."
"Fine. I like my rifle better anyway," said Renée sullenly.
"Then everyone's happy," said Dr Harlech with a sweet smile, and she went over to see what Amber was looking at.
"Hmph," muttered Renée, when Dr Harlech was beyond hearing distance. "Wish I had a Magnum…"
"What are you looking at, Amber?" Dr Harlech asked, kneeling beside Amber on the floor.
"I found this just by here - it must have been swept out of the room with the water," said Amber. "Looks like it came from the Tyrant's tank or something."
She held up a small, shiny brass plaque and showed it to Dr Harlech. It was engraved with the words:
TYRANT NO. 0072
CODENAME: PHIL
""Phil"?" said Dr Harlech, her brow furrowing. "What kind of sick, twisted people would name something like that "Phil"?"
"The same kind of people who work in a place like that and still keep pictures of their kids on their desks," said Amber, taking back the plaque and slipping it into the briefcase through the tiniest of openings before securing the locks again.
Dr Harlech smiled wanly.
"You're quite right," she said. "I wish you weren't, but you are. It's unbelievable what kind of evil lurks in the hearts of men. Kind of makes you wonder if there really is a God after all."
"Well, there must be," said Amber, shrugging. "Heck, we're still alive, aren't we? I think that's proof enough that someone's watching out for us. I mean, we're not even infected."
"I'm afraid you're wrong about that, Amber," said Dr Harlech gravely. "You're infected. So am I. We all are."
There was a terrible silence.
"What?" said Amber feebly. "In-infected? Us?"
"Yes."
"No. No, that's not possible," Amber insisted. "None of us have been bitten. None of us are even sick! If we were infected, we would have turned into zombies by now…. wouldn't we?" she added, looking hopeful.
"Not necessarily. The T-Virus infects people at different rates depending on their level of exposure to it," explained Dr Harlech, and Amber's hopeful look vanished. "If it's injected directly into the bloodstream or introduced by a bite from another infected organism, then the rate of infection is very, very rapid and you'll change in maybe a few hours. It can also be spread through the air, but only if the level of concentration is extremely high. Since none of you have been bitten and the amount of T-Virus in the air is low, the only way you will have picked up the infection is through water consumption."
"But I don't drink water," said Amber. "Not from the tap, anyway. I only drink bottled water. It tastes better."
"You drink tea? Coffee? Anything like that?"
"Not for a week or so. I cut it out because I was drinking way too much and I was getting all jittery."
"Taken a bath lately? Or a shower? Brushed your teeth? Washed your hands?"
"Well of course, I'm not completely - oh."
"The T-Virus is thought to have been introduced to the city's water supply by contaminated rats in the sewers. The sewage works wouldn't have been able to get the virus out of the sewage with conventional treatment methods, so after being suitably treated and recycled, the sewer water would have gone straight back into the city's water mains afterwards. Anyone who drank the water, or used it for cooking or even washing will have been exposed to the T-Virus."
Amber's lower lip started to tremble.
"W-what does that mean? Are we going to die?" she whimpered. "After all this, we're going to die anyway? That's not fair! We made it here! We survived, dammit! I don't want to die!"
"Don't worry, Amber," said Dr Harlech. "If you're still alive after this much potential exposure, then you're unlikely to die. Your immune system's strong enough to fight the virus in the air and water, and you haven't been bitten, so you'll probably be all right. However, we can't take any chances. Renée's injuries may not have been caused by monster attacks, but she is still highly vulnerable to T-Virus infection."
"Oh, that's okay," called Renée from further back. "I've been vaccinated against the T-Virus."
Amber stiffened, and turned round.
"What did you say?"
"I was given the T-Virus vaccine before the mission. Everybody in our unit was," said Renée innocently. "What? Did I say something wrong?"
Amber, near speechless with rage, turned back to face Dr Harlech.
"You mean to tell me," she said, "that there's a vaccine for the T-Virus? Exactly when were you planning on telling us this? And why wasn't the vaccine distributed to the population after the outbreak? This town could have survived! Instead, everybody's dead except for us! Why weren't we told?"
"B-because it was only perfected five days ago," said Dr Harlech shakily. "The T-Virus vaccine was still being developed at the lab in the old hospital when the outbreak happened - they couldn't finish it in time! By the time the first samples of the vaccine was ready, it was already too late; the virus was spreading, we didn't have nearly enough of the vaccine to distribute to the general population, and mass production would have taken weeks. There just wasn't enough time."
"Hmm. I'll save my scepticism for later. Are there any vaccines left here?" said Amber.
"Yes. We were given just enough for every member of staff on the project. Unfortunately, some of the batches of vaccine we received hadn't been stored properly during transit, rendering them completely useless. We had a small quantity of effective vaccines, but the surviving members of staff who received it got killed by zombies anyway. All the vaccines in the world won't stop you from getting your throat torn out."
"So how many vaccines are left?" said Amber. "The ones that work, I mean."
"Six. But Renée's already been vaccinated, and presumably so has Christina. So there'll be enough for the four of us, and two spare for when we find Lisa's parents - if we ever do, that is."
"Good, because I think Jack might be infected."
"What? When did this happen?"
"Earlier today. We've fixed him up a couple of times, but his arm looks really bad and he hasn't looked well since it happened."
"Then we'd better find those vaccines fast. The cold storage room is only a few doors down from here. Come on, we have to hurry!"
----------
When Dr Harlech, Amber and Renée finally emerged into the corridor, they found Jack and Lisa waiting patiently outside.
"Oh, there you are. What kept you?" said Lisa.
"Never mind that, Lisa. We have to get to the cold storage room as soon as possible," said Dr Harlech, taking the two teenagers by the shoulders and hurrying them along the corridor, as Amber and Renée followed behind at a brisk pace.
"The cold storage room? Porqué?" said Jack, frowning. "Why we gotta go there?"
"Well, I'm afraid I have bad news for you," said Dr Harlech. "Because we've been exposed to the T-Virus for a prolonged period of time, we may be infected. If you've used water in any shape or form in the past week or so - drinking, washing, whatever - then you've come into contact with the virus. I also understand that you took a trip through the sewers, which is where the outbreak originated."
"We're infected?" said Lisa, appalled.
"Yes, but don't worry. We have a small amount of T-Virus vaccine in the cold storage room; there's just enough for six people. That's me, you two, Amber and your parents, Lisa. We're all going to be fine."
"What 'bout Renée and Christina?" said Jack.
"Renée and Christina have already been vaccinated, so they'll be fine too. But we have to get to the cold storage room right away and use those vaccines. Especially you, Jack; your injuries have made you highly vulnerable to T-Virus infection, so we have to get you treated first."
Jack nodded, relief spreading through his heart and mind. He was going to receive the T-Virus vaccine, so he wasn't going to turn into a zombie after all; he was going to be fine, just like Dr Harlech said.
Soon they came to a heavy-looking door on the left-hand side of the corridor. It looked like a vault, but was marked "Cold Storage". Frost was forming around the edges of the door.
"Here we are," said Dr Harlech.
She pulled the door open and stepped back as a blast of arctic air escaped from the room. Once the cold mist had cleared, she stepped inside the room. Jack and the others watched at the doorway as she walked across the room to a glass-fronted cabinet, her shoes leaving little indentations in the thick layer of frost that covered the floor.
Inside the cabinet was a multitude of glass tubes, their contents brightly coloured; each one was carefully labelled. Dr Harlech selected six of these with great care. She then opened a drawer and took out six small, sealed boxes; these were carefully laid on the icy floor, one next to each glass tube.
"Okay, Jack," she called, her teeth chattering in the cold. "You first."
Jack stepped into the cold storage room, automatically rolling up his left shirt sleeve. Dr Harlech opened one of the small boxes and took out a hypodermic needle. Jack watched in trepidation as the needle pierced the top of the glass tube, drawing the liquid into the syringe. A few drops spurted out of the needle's end as Dr Harlech finished preparing it for use.
"Ready?" she said, pouring a clear solution onto a piece of cotton wool and dabbing at Jack's upper arm.
Jack nodded, his wide eyes fixed firmly on the needle.
"It's okay, Jack, don't be frightened. One little scratch and then you'll be just fine, I promise," said Dr Harlech gently. "Okay, here we go…"
Jack flinched as the needle sank into his skin, and he screwed up his face in pain as the syringe's contents were discharged into his arm.
"There," said Dr Harlech, removing the needle and rolling Jack's shirt sleeve back down. "All done. Lisa, you next."
Lisa was remarkably brave, thought Jack, given that he knew she was mortally afraid of needles - she barely gave more than a slight whimper as Dr Harlech administered the T-Virus vaccine. Amber, on the other hand, gave an ear-splitting screech as the needle pierced her skin, and didn't stop yelling until it was out again.
Dr Harlech opened the box containing the fourth needle, took off her lab coat and dabbed at her upper left arm with cotton wool, then prepared the vaccine for herself. She steadied her nerves and her hand as she positioned the needle, then closed her eyes tightly and depressed the syringe's plunger, wincing only slightly when she eventually removed the needle.
"Now, I need someone to look after the remaining two doses for me," she said solemnly, picking up the two remaining doses of vaccine and the two hypodermic boxes. "Amber, put those in your briefcase and for crying out loud be careful with them. Whatever you do, you mustn't damage them, or Lisa's parents won't have vaccines. Understood?"
Amber understood. The vaccines were stowed in the briefcase along with the broken camera and the collection of incriminating documents. Dr Harlech cleared up the used syringes, cotton wool and empty glass tubes, and disposed of them neatly in a frost-covered yellow plastic container which sat in the far corner of the room. Just visible beneath the frost were the words "Clinical Waste Only".
"Looks like we're good to go, then," said Renée.
"Everybody feeling okay?" said Dr Harlech, donning her lab coat again. "Nobody feeling faint?"
"No," said Lisa. "I'm fine."
"Me too," said Amber.
"Yeah, fine," said Jack. "Just fine."
"Then we'll continue."
----------
All along the corridor came the sound of doors opening and closing.
"Mom?"
"Elizabeth?"
"Señora Hartley?"
"Uh… Lisa's mom? Where are you?"
Footsteps back and forth, voices calling up and down the corridor, doors opening and slamming closed again.
"Dr Hartley?
"Jonathan?"
"Dad?"
"Hey, Lisa's dad? Are you there?"
The calls went unanswered, and the five survivors met up again outside the cold storage room.
"We've checked all the rooms we missed out earlier. No sign of them," reported Amber.
"But this place is really big," Renée added hurriedly, seeing Lisa's face fall. "There are still plenty of places they could be, right, Dr H?"
"Yes, we've got a little way to go yet. There are some more offices up ahead - they're bound to be in one of those," said Dr Harlech.
"What if they ain't there?" said Jack, voicing the question that the others had been secretly thinking but hadn't dared to ask. "What happen if we no can find 'em? What we gonna do then?"
"Then I'll search the rest of the building alone," said Lisa bravely. "I know it's dangerous, but I couldn't live with myself knowing that I left my parents to die in this town. I have to find my mom and dad, and I don't care if it takes me all… night…"
Lisa yawned suddenly, though she had enough presence of mind to cover her hand with her mouth.
"You look exhausted, Lisa," said Amber. "And you too, Jack. I know I am - I haven't slept properly for three days."
"Me either. What time is it, anyway?" said Dr Harlech.
"Way past their bedtime, by the look of it," said Renée. "Way past mine too, come to think of it. I haven't had more than about four hours' sleep since the start of my mission. No rest for the wicked, I guess."
"Oh well. Never mind, Lisa. Only a few more rooms to go, then we can get out of town and you can sleep all you want," Amber reassured her. "I'm sure we'll find them down here somewhere."
"I hope you're right," said Lisa, rubbing her eyes.
"Yeah," said Amber. "Just keep moving; you look like you'll fall asleep on your feet if you stay still a moment longer."
Lisa nodded, and kept walking. She'd never felt so tired in her whole life; her head was heavy, her eyelids drooping, and every part of her body was desperate for sleep, but she knew she had no choice but to keep going.
It was probably well past midnight by now, but she didn't dare look at her watch; if she did, it would only remind her that she should be asleep by now, and then she'd feel even sleepier. Some things were better left unknown.
Jack was finding it even harder to keep walking. He'd sincerely believed that the T-Virus vaccine would have made him feel better, but if anything, he felt even worse. His head was pounding, he felt sick and exhausted, and the throbbing, burning pain in his arm was worse than ever.
Every step required more and more effort and coordination. It was almost like being drunk and having the hangover at the same time, except the hangover was magnified about a hundred times.
His breath caught in his chest, and stuck there. He coughed hard, gasping for breath, but the air felt thin, as though it didn't contain enough oxygen to fill his lungs. His head felt lighter than the air he was trying to breathe, and his body felt numb - all he could feel was the pain that raged through his arm.
Struggling to breathe against the sudden constriction of his chest, Jack saw the world beginning to turn grey. Through the silver haze, he saw Lisa turn to look at him.
"Jack, are you okay?" she said.
And now there was no hiding it any more. Despite knowing that they would have to shoot him if they became infected - despite knowing that Lisa would die if he died - he couldn't keep it from them any longer.
"Lise? Amber? I - I dunt feel so good," said Jack weakly, and then consciousness escaped him. He slumped forward and collapsed in a heap on the floor.
"Jack! Oh no, not again!" cried Lisa, rushing to his side and trying to pick him up. "Come on, Jack, wake up! Wake up!"
Amber, hearing Lisa's cries, went back to help her. Her heart sank when she saw that Jack had collapsed again, but she didn't say anything. She attempted to lift him, but without success; Jack probably wasn't heavy under normal conditions, but right now he was one hundred and twenty-six pounds of dead weight. Somehow, though, they managed to get him to his feet and carried on walking, supporting Jack's weight between them.
They'd walked only a few yards when suddenly Amber stopped, her head jerking up automatically at the sound of ghostly moans in the distance. A group of shadowy figures were just visible further down the dark corridor.
Her heart began to race as adrenaline filled her veins, and panic filled her thoughts for about the hundredth time that day.
"Oh, no," she muttered. "No, not now… someone tell me that's not what I think it is!"
Dr Harlech had stopped too, and she didn't look at all happy.
"I hate to tell you, Amber, but that's exactly what you think it is," she said uneasily. "Have we got enough bullets to take them down?"
"Not really," said Amber, checking her gun with her free hand. "Renée?"
"I'm running a little low, I must admit," said the mercenary. "And I only have one spare clip."
"Memory doesn't serve me that well, because I didn't spend a huge amount of time down here, but I'm sure there's another way through the lab complex," said Dr Harlech, eyeing the zombies nervously. "Maybe we should turn back."
The others nodded, and they turned round.
"Actually," said Renée, pointing to the other end of the corridor, "I don't think that's such a good idea…"
More stumbling, groaning figures were staggering towards them, their rotting arms outstretched towards their prey. There were almost as many here as there were coming towards them from the other direction.
"Where did they come from?" said Lisa, almost hysterical with fear.
"I don't know and I don't care! We have to get out of here!" said Renée, looking around hastily for a side corridor they could escape into. There wasn't one, nor were there any other ways to seek refuge from the undead.
"There's no way out!" cried Lisa. "We're trapped!"
"What are we going to do?" said Amber.
Dr Harlech was staring at the floor. Her lips were moving almost imperceptibly. Suddenly, she dropped to her knees, her head still bowed low.
"I agree, Clarissa, religion is a great comfort in times of stress, but now is not the time!" said Amber. "We need your help!"
The scientist said nothing; she was running her hands along a thin, almost indiscernibly faint line which ran across the floor in front of her. It looked like a join in the floor, with one side slightly higher than the other.
"What in the blue hell are you doing?" said Renée incredulously. "You're not praying, and you're certainly not helping - so what are you doing?"
"Getting us out of immediate danger," grunted Dr Harlech, who was tugging at the raised edge of the floor, her face reddening with the exertion. "Some help would be nice…"
The zombies were getting closer, their moans growing louder and more urgent as they drew nearer to the little group of frightened survivors. Lisa and Amber watched with bated breath as Renée and Dr Harlech apparently struggled to pull up an entire section of the floor. At last, their efforts paid off; they lifted up a large square hatch which until now had been perfectly concealed in the flooring, and opened it up wide, revealing a dark hole underneath and a metal ladder leading down.
"Quick, get down there!" urged Dr Harlech. "They're getting closer!"
The others didn't waste any time in following her advice. Amber climbed down into the hole, first dropping the briefcase down into the unknown depths, then returning her gun to its holster and clambering down the ladder.
Renée dragged Lisa towards the opening in the floor and made her go first; trembling with fright, the teenage girl gripped the ladder and scurried down it as fast as she could. Renée followed her, grasping the sides of the ladder and letting herself slide down it at full speed.
Now only Dr Harlech was left now, looking down anxiously at Jack's inert form and wondering how on earth she was going to get him down the ladder. The answer to this problem came when Renée's voice floated up out of the darkness below.
"Dr H! Throw Jack down to us! We'll catch him!"
"Uh, all right," said Dr Harlech, gingerly moving the unconscious Jack towards the hole and then shoving him in, as gently as she could. She saw him fall lifelessly down into the gloom, almost expecting to hear the crack of broken bones somewhere below as he hit the floor, but there was only a soft thud.
"Got him!"
Dr Harlech, pleased by this news, darted into the hole. The zombies were almost on top of her now, and one or two of them were bending down towards her, reaching out to grab her.
As one of the zombie scientists snatched clumsily at her and missed, something slipped out of the dead man's coat pocket and fell past her. She didn't bother to look and see what it was; she was more concerned with sealing off their escape route from the zombies.
Grabbing the handle on the underside of the hatch, she pulled it back after her, slamming it tightly shut and closing off the last remnants of light illuminating the escape route.
Feeling for the ladder rung by rung now that the darkness was closing in around her, Dr Harlech climbed down cautiously, down and down until to her relief, the soles of her shoes finally touched solid concrete.
"Where are we?" said Renée, from somewhere in the pitch blackness.
"This is the old underground bomb shelter," Dr Harlech said, and her words echoed a little. "One of the researchers told me that Umbrella built it for its employees during the Cold War in case of nuclear attack. When it turned out that the Russians weren't going to irradiate everything after all, people just forgot about it. They found it again a few months ago when they were building the lab complex, but since it was too expensive to demolish and it wasn't in the way of anything important, they just built around it. Now it's part of this whole big forgotten sublevel that nobody ever uses for anything. I've been hiding down here for the past few days."
"What made you come out?" said Amber.
"I thought if I stayed put down here and waited, somebody would come for me," said Dr Harlech. "But after three days I realised that there wasn't going to be a rescue, and that if I was going to leave at all, I had to leave now. I was on my way out when I ran into that leech zombie and that - that thing Jack and Lisa killed."
"But that was the thirteenth floor," said Amber, her frown unseen in the darkness. "What were you doing up there? All you had to do was take the elevator up to the lobby and go outside."
"Yeah, that was the idea, but then I had a close encounter with some zombie dogs on my way out, and I broke my glasses," said Dr Harlech sheepishly. "I can't see without my glasses, so I had to go upstairs to my old office in Pharmaceutical Research and look for a spare pair. When I came out, I walked right into that thing and it started chasing me - and then just when I thought I'd given it the slip, along came a leech zombie and I had to run from that too. That's when I ran into Lisa."
"It's not really been your day, has it?" said Renée.
"I don't think it's been anybody's day today," said Amber. "Are there any lights in here?"
"Uh… hold on, I think they're over here," said Dr Harlech, feeling for the wall and running the palm of her hand across it until she came across a raised area of plastic. She pressed down on it, and suddenly there was light.
They instinctively shielded their eyes against the sudden brightness, which seemed almost blinding after the gloom that they'd become accustomed to in the passages of the lab complex. Even when the glare faded and they uncovered their eyes again, the afterglow was still there, the circle of bright light imprinted on their vision in purple.
When that faded too, they looked around. Their new environment was a large, bare concrete room with a solitary light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The paint had peeled from the mould-speckled walls long ago, and the white flakes covered the floor like dry snow.
Amber sniffed the damp air.
"Yuck," she said. "It smells awful down here."
"Well, it smells like rotting corpses upstairs," said Renée, putting Jack down on the floor. She took the backpack from his shoulders, gently lifted up his head, and placed the backpack underneath him like a pillow. "I don't know about you, but I prefer the mould. At least the mould doesn't try to bite your head off."
Amber had to admit that Renée had a point. At least this place was safe; minutes ago, their only option involved being chewed and swallowed, but now they had found sanctuary in this place - an impenetrable stronghold, sheltering them from the zombies that haunted the corridors above their heads.
And…
Amber blinked, unable to believe her eyes. There was a door on the other side of the room. It was covered in a layer of rust that was probably thicker than the actual door, true, but it was still a door. She didn't know what was beyond it, but for now it represented hope and the prospect, however small, of escape.
"Where does that lead?" she said, pointing to it.
"I'm afraid I don't know," said Dr Harlech. "I couldn't get it to open."
Amber tugged hard at the door. She was expecting it not to budge an inch, but the door surprised her by opening wide, almost knocking her off her feet while deafening her with the squeal of rusty hinges. Wiping rust marks from her hands, she looked inside.
"Goodness. Your luck is much better than mine, Amber. I couldn't get it to move so much as a millimetre," said Dr Harlech. "What's down there?"
"Uh… steps. A lot of steps," reported Amber. "It's dark too. I can't see much. But if someone gives me the torch, I'll go down and investigate."
"Think it might be an escape route?" said Renée hopefully, as Lisa handed the torch to Amber.
"Given our luck, probably not, but I'm happy to be proved wrong," said Amber, switching the torch back on. "Renée, you and Dr H stay here with the kids, and I'll go and see what's down there. If the zombies didn't make it this far down, then I doubt that there'll be anything nasty at the bottom, but it's best if you guys just stay put for now. At least you know it's safe here."
"Roger that," said Renée, and sat down. "We'll sit tight until you come back."
"You will come back, won't you?" added Dr Harlech.
"Of course I will," said Amber. "Just take care of Jack and Lisa. I'll be back soon."
She stepped through the door, and the others watched her gradually descend into the unknown recesses of the world beyond the rusted door. Before long, the torch's glow was out of sight, and so was Amber.
Silence descended.
"So you think she'll make it back?" said Renée.
"She'll make it," said Dr Harlech.
"What if there are spiders down there? I don't know if you know this, but Amber's terrified of spiders," said Renée. "One glimpse of them and she freaks out."
"She'll make it," Dr Harlech repeated. "I know she will."
Renée decided that it was no use pursuing that particular line of conversation any further, so she tried to think of something else to say to ward off boredom. Nothing particular sprang to mind at first, but then something drew her eye to the foot of the ladder.
"Hey, what's that?"
"What's what?" said Dr Harlech, looking around.
"Over there by the ladder. It looks like a notebook or something."
Dr Harlech went over to the ladder and stooped to pick up the object. It was indeed a notebook, and she realised that this was the object that had fallen out of the zombie scientist's coat pocket.
She sat down beside Renée and flipped the notebook open. It was a fairly ordinary notebook from the company's stationery department - the cover was black and marked with the Umbrella logo. Inside were pages filled with small, meticulously neat handwriting and startlingly accurate line drawings.
For want of anything else to do while they waited for Amber's return, she started to read the contents of the notebook.
It's very exciting to be part of the company's bioweapons programme at last. I've heard rumours about it for some time, but never did I imagine that I might actually become part of it. The possibilities are endless… viruses to utterly wipe out enemy forces or to create superhuman warriors impervious to bullets, grenades, and even death itself.
I've conducted some rudimentary research into the programme so far, and it makes for interesting reading. This is what I've learned so far about the products of the bioweapons programme:
1. The T-Virus
Created by Dr James Marcus on September 19th, 1977. The T-Virus has the ability to transform living things into deadly bioweapons. Insects grow to several times their normal size, amphibian subjects experience abnormal tongue growth and increased agility, and mammals develop an insatiable thirst for blood (see Fig. 1). Humans infected with the virus become zombie-like creatures with cannibalistic tendencies, motivated only by the need to feed. In some instances, it is possible for humans with the suitable genetic makeup to mutate into a being known as a "Tyrant" (see Fig. 2). The main problem with the T-Virus is that the creatures are primitive, stupid and uncontrollable - they are of limited use as bioweapons.
Symptoms of T-Virus infection include headaches, fatigue, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, constant hunger and thirst, and extreme pain and itchiness. It can take as little as 1 hour to succumb to the infection, or as long as 3 days, depending on the subject. A vaccine is being developed for the T-Virus to counteract accidental infection and should be ready by the end of the month.
2. The G-Virus
Little is known about the G-Virus, other than the fact that it is being developed by Dr William Birkin, a protégé of Dr Marcus. It is believed to be near completion. Some early samples of the virus are being studied, and it appears that among the properties the virus is believed to have is the power of regeneration, and the ability to implant embryonic copies of itself into other beings. Other than that, we know virtually nothing about what the virus does.
Symptoms of G-Virus infection are currently unknown, as the virus is incomplete. A vaccine may or may not be in development. More will be known when Dr Birkin's findings are made known to the company.
3. The T-Nemesis Virus
A variant of the T-Virus developed specifically by Umbrella's European branch to remedy some of the T-Virus' shortcomings. At present, only one surviving test subject exists - the subject's codename is "Nemesis" (see Fig. 3). "Nemesis" is an extraordinary creation, far superior to the Tyrant in every respect; its strength, speed, resilience and tenacity are quite remarkable, and its intelligence is much greater than that of any other bioweapon previously created. I think the only thing that could possibly wipe out "Nemesis" would be a direct hit from a nuclear missile. Yet "Nemesis" is still not perfect. There may be a future problem with excessive mutation, and "Nemesis" is as yet unable to regenerate. Work is still underway on the T-Nemesis virus.
Symptoms of T-Nemesis Virus infection are identical to the symptoms of T-Virus infection - headaches, fatigue, dizziness, nausea, etc - making it difficult to distinguish between the two at first until the mutation begins. Depending on the subject, the infection can take anything from 1 to 72 hours to fully take hold. A vaccine for the T-Nemesis virus has been devised but not yet put into production. Instructions and equipment for producing the T-Nemesis vaccine are available for use in this facility.
Dr Harlech stared at the illustration which accompanied the passage. It depicted, in gruesome detail, a huge figure in a leather trench coat with a tentacle snaking out of one arm and a twisted parody of a human face.
"Nemesis?" she said to herself. "Is that what's chasing us?"
"Dr Harlech? Why won't the vaccine work?"
"Pardon?" said Dr Harlech, looking up from the notebook. Lisa was sitting next to Jack, still trying to shake him awake. Dr Harlech had never seen anyone look so inconsolable before.
"Why won't the vaccine work?" said Lisa again. "I thought it would make us all better, but he's still sick… were we too late?"
Dr Harlech bit her lip, the moral agony of the situation twisting like a knife in her chest. She could lie and guarantee Jack's safety. She could state plainly that he was going to die. She could guess either way, or admit that she had no idea what was going to happen next.
She settled for complete honesty.
"I really don't know, Lisa. I don't even know what happened to him in the first place. Maybe I should take a look at him."
Lisa nodded, and moved out of the way. Dr Harlech set the notebook aside and crawled over to Jack. She checked his vital signs, one by one, opening his eyelids, feeling for his pulse.
"He's unconscious. I'm not sure if he'll wake up or not. His pulse is very weak - too weak - and he looks like he's having trouble breathing. Pupils are still responding to light. Minimal response to pain. What happened to him, anyway?"
"He was trying to save my life earlier today and that big zombie hurt him," said Lisa. "Its tentacle caught him across the arm and cut him pretty badly."
"That big zombie is a monster called the Nemesis. And I don't think it's dead. Which arm?" said Dr Harlech.
"The right one," said Lisa.
"Did he mention any symptoms?" said Dr Harlech, as she began rolling up Jack's right shirt sleeve.
"He complained about pain in his arm a few times, and he lost his memory for a short period. He collapsed once before this, too, but he woke up a little while later," said Lisa. "You mentioned the Nemesis when you were reading that notebook - what did it say, exactly?"
"It says that there's another version of the T-Virus, and it's called the T-Nemesis Virus. It created the Nemesis, and it turns anyone infected into another one just like it. Jack must have the T-Nemesis Virus," said Dr Harlech, unwinding the bandage around Jack's arm. "My goodness, will you look at his arm? It's a mess."
Jack's arm was indeed a mess. It was swollen and mottled pink, with dark purple bruising extending almost to his shoulder. The wound had stopped bleeding, but yellowish pus and clear liquid was seeping from it.
"Is there a cure?" said Lisa faintly.
"Yes, there is. It says that the vaccine can be created here in this facility. They have the instructions and the equipment needed to make the vaccine. All we have to do is go upstairs and find out where they keep them," said Dr Harlech. "Pass me the notebook, Lisa. I want to see if there are any more notes on the next page."
Lisa found the notebook and slid it across the floor to Dr Harlech.
"Thanks," said Dr Harlech, and she turned the page. Seconds later, her mouth dropped open.
4. The L-Virus
Created on February 22nd 1998, by Dr Jonathan Hartley and Dr Alistair Morton. The L-Virus is the focus of the project to which I have been assigned. The L-Virus is essentially a more advanced version of the T-Virus with the regenerative qualities of the G-Virus, which has been fused with the T-Nemesis virus to take on the desired characteristics of "Nemesis" while avoiding any inconvenient further mutations.With the L-Virus, we have created the ultimate bioweapon - the perfect successor to "Nemesis". (See Fig. 4)
Visually, the subject is identical to "Nemesis" but stronger, smarter, faster and more agile than his predecessor, and quite remarkably cunning. In combat testing, the subject hid or feigned death on several occasions while its health regenerated, before returning much later to wreak vengeance on its opponents. It is far tougher than anything ever created by Umbrella - I don't think even a direct hit from a nuclear missile could truly kill this subject.
Symptoms of L-Virus infection are initially identical to the symptoms of T-Nemesis Virus infection preceding mutation - headaches, fatigue, dizziness, nausea, etc. However, some additional symptoms have been observed, including temporary amnesia and loss of consciousness on multiple occasions. Another quite extraordinary symptom is the ability to repel other zombies - it is as if the zombies are somehow scared of the subject and are unwilling to go near it. The L-Virus is fast-acting and can transform the subject from human to bioweapon in the space of just a few hours.
One of the L-Project researchers, Dr Janice Redmond, is said to be attempting to develop a vaccine to the L-Virus, but it is clear to everyone else on the project that she is wasting her time; the L-Virus was specifically designed to be immune to any kind of vaccine.
Beside these notes was a drawing identical to the one on the previous page - the same enormous figure in black, with a tentacle twisting out from one arm and a snarl on its deformed face. Her stomach turned at the sight of it.
"Lisa," she said, swallowing. "Did you say that Jack lost his memory?"
The younger girl nodded.
"And the zombies went away from him when he came out of Dr Morton's office, didn't they?"
Lisa nodded again, and Dr Harlech began shaking her head from side to side. She could feel an old, unpleasantly familiar feeling welling up in her heart - the same feeling she used to get at the hospital, whenever she had to break bad news to a patient's family.
She could see how much the girl cared for her friend, and she could hardly bring herself to say it. However, she knew that she couldn't possibly keep the news from Lisa and let her live with the false hope of Jack's possible recovery.
"Lisa, I - I have some bad news," she said, hating herself for every word.
Lisa went pale.
"It's about Jack, isn't it?" she said, clearly dreading what she was about to hear.
Dr Harlech nodded regretfully.
"Lisa, Jack doesn't have the T-Nemesis Virus. I'm afraid it's a lot worse than that."
"How much worse?" said Lisa, her lower lip beginning to tremble.
"That creature wasn't the Nemesis. It was something different, something even worse than the Nemesis. The giant zombie that hurt Jack was created by the virus that they were working on in this lab complex."
Dr Harlech swallowed again, trying to rid herself of the lump that was forming in her throat. She looked down, unable to bear the look on Lisa's face any longer.
"It's called the L-Virus. And I don't know how to tell you this, but…"
She sighed heavily.
"Jack's infected with the L-Virus. And there's - there's no cure. Lisa, I'm so sorry, but there's nothing we can do to help him. He's going to die."