Chapter 18: Follow the Leader
It was her.
Her hair…her skin…her eyes.
But, it all belonged to someone else.
A mirror image.
Another Claire.
Claire Redfield stood perfectly still, unable to breathe, unwilling to move, as if to do so would somehow awaken her doppelganger. If she had to watch it come to life, she thought she might go insane. The eyes were staring forward, glazed and unfocused, leaving her to try and convince herself that the figure was inanimate.
Until it blinked.
That single motion snapped Claire out of her own trance-like state, and she immediately stepped back, a soft gasp escaping from her lips.
"As you can see, she is very much alive."
Claire jumped, slightly, at the sudden sound. Hearing Alexia's voice pulled her back from the edge of her own sanity, and made her realize just how close she had come to going over it. For the moment, she needed to focus on something, anything that would help her to keep it together.
In an attempt to respond, the young brunette managed to raise her hand and point at the abomination before her. "Who…Who is that?"
"She is you."
Claire shook her head. "No."
"Yes, Claire. She is the 'flesh of your flesh'. A perfect copy."
"That's impossible!" Claire yelled, her denial giving strength to her voice.
"The evidence exists right before your very eyes," Alexia taunted. "Feel free to get a closer look, if you need to be convinced."
Claire's head was spinning as she tried to understand what it was she was looking at. She knew what Alexia wanted her to believe, but it was inconceivable. In spite of all the incredible things the young woman had seen, this was beyond her comprehension.
Perhaps it was the result of plastic surgery. Or maybe Alexia had managed to find someone who bore an uncanny resemblance to her. Either of those possibilities were preferable to the one that continued to gnaw at the back of her mind.
'I was never in the Antarctic.'
Alexia's earlier statement played over and over in her thoughts as Claire fought to keep herself from panicking. If that person, or whatever it was that she and Chris had encountered in that snowy hellhole, wasn't Alexia, than who was it?
All of the evidence pointed to it being Alfred's twin sister. But, Claire had been fooled back on Rockfort Island, hadn't she? It had appeared as though both siblings were residing in that godforsaken place when, in fact, it had all been a sick, twisted fantasy conjured up by Alfred's deluded mind. His bizarre role-playing had certainly made her and Steve believe in Alexia's existence.
Could it have been Alfred all along?
Claire gave her head a mental shake. No. That couldn't be it. She had watched Alfred fall to his death. And Chris told her that he had found the man's lifeless body during his search for her. But, there was something about that last detail that was nagging at her…something about where he found him.
A capsule? Wasn't that what Chris had told her?
In one single moment of frightening clarity, her brother's words came rushing back to her. While combing the labs in search of clues, Chris had triggered some kind of mechanism, which caused a large cylindrical object to rise from the floor. It was in that glass capsule that he had discovered the corpse of Alfred Ashford.
That left two unanswered questions: What was the capsule for? And how did Alfred get inside?
Claire decided that she really didn't want to know.
"You're awfully quiet." There was a hint of amusement in Alexia's voice. Clearly, the woman was enjoying herself.
"Who was that in the Antarctic?" Claire asked, reluctantly. She placed a hand on her chest, feeling the beat of her heart as it steadily increased.
"Flesh of my flesh, Claire."
Claire swallowed hard. "A…clone?"
"Exactly."
"How did he-"
"A DNA sample, obtained when you first arrived on the island." Alexia's tone turned wistful. "My brother was a genius. It was unfortunate that he was also completely mad, but I always thought that was part of his charm."
Claire felt a shiver run up her spine. It was obvious that insanity ran in the Ashford family.
"I felt it necessary to remove him as head of the family business. He was far too flamboyant and reckless with his power. I had hoped that the island would give him the freedom to explore some of his more elaborate ideas, but even I underestimated him."
Anger began to churn in Claire's gut, which was infinitely more preferable to the fear she had been feeling thus far, so she decided to hold onto it. "His 'elaborate ideas', as you so delicately put it, included torture and murder!" An image of Steve filled her mind, as she felt the all too familiar sting of tears in her eyes. She shook her head to stop herself. She would not allow herself to mourn in front of this woman. "He was the sickest son of a bitch I have ever met, Alexia. My only regret is that I didn't end his miserable existence a lot sooner!"
"YOU MURDERER!" Alexia's shriek echoed through the room, causing Claire to place her hands over her ears. She tensed, expecting her tormentor to emerge at any moment, filled with homicidal rage and ready to strike her down. But, as the minutes ticked by, it became apparent that whatever Alexia was planning for her, she was going to be kept waiting a while longer.
The brunette's gaze wandered the room in a futile search for a way out, only to be drawn in, once again, by her double. She stepped closer, narrowing her eyes as she studied the face that looked back at her.
"Why did Alexia do this?" Claire muttered, expelling a heavy sigh.
"Chris…"
Claire's eyes flew open. "What?" She watched in shocked fascination as her twin's lips parted, hesitantly, as if using them for the first time.
"Chris, save me."
"Oh my God," Claire spoke softly, cupping her own mouth with shaking hands as she finally understood. She knew Alexia wanted revenge for her brother's death. But, she would not get it by killing Claire. She was going to kill Claire's brother…
…and use Claire to do it.
***
Chris leaned back against the railing, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. He shifted his arm, slightly, feeling the butt of his gun poking into his side. As of late, the rather large weapon had become his constant companion. Although he felt safer with it, it also served to remind him that he could never let his guard down. He was always in a state of perpetual readiness, and becoming extremely weary of it.
His thoughts returned to his current situation. Once again, he and the others had packed their gear and pulled up stakes, moving to a dingy motor lodge near the freeway. Barry decided to take a ride by the HCF building, just to make certain that the police had been alerted of Wesker's location. The rest of the group had been busy trying to help Chris remain optimistic, but he knew his sister better than they did.
Claire would never have gone off without finding a way to reach him, even if Leon had needed her help in some way. The note was another sign that the girls had run into some trouble. The fact that it appeared to be Leon that left that note was the most confusing aspect of all of this. Chris had come to trust him, even though they'd only met recently. Leon had been instrumental in helping Chris find Claire when she had been captured by Umbrella, and he stuck by the group during the whole mess with Jill and Dick.
It was also very obvious that his sister had developed strong feelings for Leon, and after seeing them together, Chris had been fairly convinced that the feeling was mutual. It seemed impossible to him that Leon would betray his sister. But, unfortunately, he knew that people could turn on you. He had learned that lesson the hard way. He just hoped his sister wasn't finding that out, as well.
Chris felt an overwhelming sense of anger grip him and he stepped forward, slamming his fist against the railing post. The old wood splintered under the impact, causing several jagged pieces to cut into his skin. His vision blurred as he looked down, uncurling his fingers to watch the blood that was now running down the back of his hand.
"Where are you, Claire?" he whispered.
Chris felt something warm and soft caress his arm. He turned, slowly, following the soft touch as it moved along his skin, seeking out his injured hand. His gaze continued to wander, finally locking on a pair of dark eyes.
"You're supposed to be resting," he scolded.
Jill frowned as she lifted his hand up to the porch light. "I can't sleep." She began to remove some of the bits of wood from his knuckles. "You have a couple of nasty cuts here."
Chris pulled his hand away. "It's fine." He reached into his pocket and removed an old, worn bandana. He looked at Jill, thoughtfully, as he wound the rag around his hand. "And I didn't say anything about sleeping. You've been through a lot in the last week, and you need to give your body some time to heal."
"I'm okay," she stated firmly. The pair stared at each other in silence for several moments. Jill turned to sit in one of the old plastic chairs that decorated the tiny porch, wincing as a sharp pain gripped her side. She held a hand up as she saw Chris coming to her aid. "I said I'm okay."
Chris sighed and shook his head, ruefully. "What a pair we are." He watched Jill as she seated herself, one hand pressed against her side. He grabbed the other chair and placed it next to her, taking her free hand in his as he sat down. "Let's make a deal, Valentine."
"What kind of deal?" she asked as she idly rubbed the coarse fabric of his makeshift bandage with her thumb.
"I'll admit that I don't know what the hell I'm doing, if you'll admit that you're not indestructible."
Jill looked at him, sharply. "I never thought I was."
"Bullshit."
"Chris, I don't know what you're talking about." She could feel him tightening his grip on her hand. "If this is about what happened with my father-"
"This goes back a lot further than that, and you know it," he interrupted in a low, serious tone. "You've always taken way too many risks."
"Look who's talking," Jill remarked. "And risk is a part of the job, after all."
"True," Chris replied, nodding in agreement. "But, we both know you had a proclivity for taking risks long before you were ever on the job. Becoming a cop just gave you a more constructive outlet for it." He paused for a moment, a pensive smile forming on his face. "Rico didn't give you the nickname 'Superstar' for nothing, you know."
Jill turned away from Chris, staring unfocused at the myriad of lights moving out on the freeway. It had been quite a while since she'd heard that word. Enrico had coined it after a rather hairy rescue mission in the Arcklay Mountains, and Jill had immediately hated it.
She hadn't been with the squad for more than a few weeks when she and Enrico had to scale down a cliff face to rescue a climber who had slipped off the rock, only to get hung up in his own lines. Having fallen from more than one hundred and twenty feet, the guy broke his leg, making rescue a very slow and difficult process. While moving down to get him, one of Enrico's lines snapped, and Jill had barely managed to get a hand on his pack before he plummeted to the ground some 400 feet below. She hung upside down and held onto him as he secured another line. After managing to save themselves, as well as the man they had originally set out to rescue, Jill had calmly recited the virtues of a secondary line to Enrico. He responded by tagging her with that nickname. She had always just assumed it was born out of sarcasm as a way to heal his bruised ego over having his butt saved by a rookie.
It wasn't until her promotion to the Alpha Team that she realized it was his odd way of showing his gratitude to her for saving his life. It was signalling a growing affection he was developing for her, as well. The day she found out about her transfer, he had given her a tiny pin with the word engraved on it. Although she never let on to him how much it meant to her, she had pinned it to the inside of her beret as a good luck charm.
Now that Enrico was gone, hearing that nickname again filled her with sadness. And anger. She wondered what he would have to say about the fact that she had shown his killer some mercy today.
So much for being a 'Superstar'.
"I should have killed him."
Chris sighed, inwardly, as he reached his free hand under Jill's chin, turning her face toward him. He could see the anguish in her eyes. "You're not a murderer, Jill."
"Would you have done it?" she questioned.
"I—" A soft sound interrupted him. It took him a few seconds to realize it was his cell phone. He released Jill's hand as he jumped to his feet and pulled the phone from his pocket. "Yeah?"
"Chris, it's Leon. I need to speak with you, right away. Just you. If you're not alone, say it's a wrong number and I'll hold on until you can get away."
"Wrong number," Chris replied without hesitation. He jammed the phone back into his pocket and glanced down at Jill, seeing the look of disappointment on her face. He wanted to tell her, but Leon's instructions were very specific. He thought it best to hear what the man had to say first, as it was almost certainly about Claire and Sherry.
Jill gave him a sympathetic look. "We'll find them, Chris."
"I know," he responded, their interrupted conversation all but forgotten. "I'm gonna take a walk over to the office and see what's in the vending machines." He was trying his best to act casual, hoping Jill wouldn't see the anxiety he was feeling. "You want anything?"
"Umm, a root beer, I guess," she answered slowly.
"You got it." Chris stepped off the porch and turned his back on her as he made his way between some parked cars. "I'll be back in a minute." With a wave of his hand, he disappeared around the corner of the next building.
Jill continued to stare after him for several minutes, pondering his sudden change in demeanor. What had just happened? One minute they were having an intense discussion, and the next, Chris decides he wants a candy bar? Of course, she knew he was very upset about Claire and Sherry's disappearance, and it was possible that he may have just been trying to hide his disappointment over the phone call, but…
"But, what are the odds that that call was a wrong number?" she spoke aloud. As if in answer to her question, she heard a vehicle start up nearby. Jill jumped up from her seat, ignoring her body's protests at the sudden movement, and headed toward their van, only to see it pulling away.
"Chris!" Jill hollered, jarring her foot painfully as she made a mad dash across the gravel. She only succeeded in banging the back door with her hand before it picked up speed and moved out of her reach. "Chris, goddammit!" she shouted in frustration as the van barreled through the parking lot.
Another loud sound caught Jill's attention and she stopped in mid-stride. A motorcycle was pulling into a parking space a few doors down from where she stood. She took a quick glance back at the van, seeing it heading out of the lot and onto the freeway. Her decision was made in an instant as she pulled her gun from its holster. She approached the man who was still sitting on the bike with the engine running.
"Get off the bike!" Jill ordered as she raised her gun.
The young man didn't even turn in her direction before answering, "Fuck off." As he glanced over his shoulder, he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
"Now!"
The man gaped at her as he put his hands in the air. "Holy shit!" He quickly climbed off the back of the bike and took a few steps back, still holding his hands aloft. "Take it easy, lady!"
Jill swung her leg over and grabbed the throttle as she shoved her gun back into its holster. She reached a hand up and squeezed the clutch before proceeding to tear up the gravel as she roared off, hoping to catch up to Chris. As she pulled away she shouted back at the man whose bike she had just commandeered, "Sorry, but it's an emergency!"
"Great." The man muttered to himself as he stood there shaking his head. "Just fucking great."
***
Rebecca rolled onto her back, dropping her book to the bed as she stretched her legs. She had been trying, unsuccessfully, to occupy her mind with something other than the current mess her life was in, but after reading the same paragraph more than four times she decided it was time to do something else. She got to her feet and headed for the bathroom. As she stood in front of the sink splashing some cool water on her face, a noise caught her attention.
Jill.
Rebecca ran for the door, fear squeezing her gut as she rushed out to the porch with her gun at the ready, only to find it unoccupied. She caught sight of the van exiting the parking lot, just as another shout drew her attention to a commotion on her right. She watched in disbelief as Jill climbed onto the back of a motorcycle and sped away, obviously in pursuit of the van.
"What's going on?" The young medic turned to see Dick standing in the doorway of the next room, one hand holding a gun, the other holding a towel around his waist. He caught a glimpse of a figure on a motorcycle, a figure that looked suspiciously like his daughter. He turned to Rebecca; the look of shock on her face was evident. "Was that Jill?"
"Yeah," Rebecca answered as she removed her cell phone from her pocket. She pressed her speed dial, praying that Chris would answer.
Dick watched as Jill disappeared onto the freeway, where she was promptly swallowed up by the busy evening traffic. "Where the hell is she going?"
"I think she went after Chris."
"Chris?" Dick immediately took notice of the missing vehicle. "Where did he go?"
"I don't know," she sighed. "But, he's not answering his phone." She listened to a few more rings before hitting another set of buttons in an attempt to contact Jill. "I'm trying Jill now, but she's probably too busy driving to talk."
"Jesus H. Christ," Dick muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. "Is she out of her mind? What does that kid think she's doing?" His gaze came to rest on a man stomping across the parking. Dick's best guess was that he was the person who's motorcycle his daughter had just stolen, and judging from his determined look, was now on his way to the office to report the theft. He glanced over at Rebecca as he jerked his thumb toward the man. "We better head that guy off at the pass. The last thing Jill needs is the friggin' cops chasing after her." He quickly shot her an apologetic look. "No offense."
"It's okay, Dick," Rebecca offered, giving him a weak smile. "I'm not getting any answer from Jill, either." She was still holding the phone to her ear as the irate bike owner passed by them. "You're right about him, though. Got any suggestions?"
Dick narrowed his dark eyes at her. "Got any money?"
***
"He's on his way."
Wesker smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "Good job, Kennedy."
"You'd better keep your end of the bargain," Leon warned, his blue eyes burning with undisguised hatred.
The blonde man nodded. "Of course. Besides, after this, you and the girl won't be of any use to me. You'll be free to go wherever you want."
"What's your interest in Redfield, anyway?" Leon questioned.
"None of your business," Wesker stated. "Now, you'd better get ready to go." He got up from his chair and reached into his desk drawer. "You'll be needing this." He handed Leon a gun.
The younger man took it and released the clip, hoping for a miracle. It was empty. "No ammo?"
Wesker laughed. "You're a funny guy, Kennedy, you know that?" His expression turned serious. "You won't need it. Redfield won't give you any trouble."
"You're so sure of that, are you?"
"I am. I've known him for quite a while." Wesker smirked. "He's chivalrous and stupid...the perfect combination."
"Being concerned for his sister doesn't make him stupid," Leon retorted, thinking about his own plight.
"No," Wesker agreed. "But, it does make him vulnerable." He walked around the desk and headed toward the door, motioning for Leon to follow. "That's the problem with relationships, Kennedy. They can be exploited." He stopped and turned to look at Leon, removing his sunglasses as a grim smile formed on his face. "Lucky for me."
Leon stared, his eyes widening in shock, as he got his first look at Wesker's cat-like eyes. He felt the breath flee from his lungs as he continued to gaze at the blood red irises. He found himself unable to turn away, hypnotized by their subtle glow.
He recalled a brief conversation he had with Chris just prior to leaving the group to come to Los Angeles. Although, Wesker's enhanced physical prowess had been a topic of that discussion, Claire's brother had never mentioned anything about the man's eyes.
Wesker put his glasses back on, breaking the spell. "Let's go." He walked out the door, leaving Leon standing alone, shocked by what he had just seen, and suddenly fearful that that things were about to go from bad to worse.
***
Barry pressed his back against the wall, trying to keep his large frame out of the glare of the streetlight. He had been standing in the dark for almost ten minutes, debating with himself over his next course of action.
The first thing he'd noticed upon his arrival was the lack of activity outside. There were some security patrols stationed here and there, but nothing else. No police. Not even a sign that they had been there.
Barry's face was grim as he reached for his cell phone. He was not looking forward to telling his friends the bad news…especially Jill. He knew that she had left Wesker, reluctantly, in the hands of the young man who had saved her. He also knew that if the authorities were nowhere to be seen, it meant that same young man was probably dead by now.
He paused for a moment as he spotted two figures emerging from a small doorway near the left corner of the building. It was too dark to make out their features, so he waited until they moved closer to the overhead lights near the parking area. As they passed underneath the yellow floodlights, he had a clear view of their faces.
"Wesker, you slimy little bastard," Barry whispered through clenched teeth. He was not surprised to see his former captain, but the second person was a bit of a shock.
It was Leon Kennedy.
Barry sighed to himself. "I guess you were right, Chris." Without hesitation, he took a step back away from the fence and pulled his gun out in one smooth motion, confident that he could hit both men from where he stood. He hefted the large weapon in his hand and focused it on his target, closing one eye in order to improve his aim. Then, he began to squeeze the trigger…
…until his cell phone began to vibrate.
He dropped his hand immediately, realizing that he was about to kill the only two people who could lead him to Claire and Sherry.
"Shit," Barry cursed softly as he reached into his vest pocket, groping for the phone. His hand closed around it as he continued to watch the scene playing out nearby. Wesker and Kennedy conversed briefly, and then Wesker turned and headed back toward the building. He watched in frustration as the man disappeared behind the door he had emerged from earlier.
Barry shifted his focus back to Leon, just in time to see him climbing into the passenger seat of an awaiting car. With two choices available to him, Barry decided to follow Leon. He watched the car leave through a gate at the opposite side of the parking lot.
As he ran back to his own vehicle, he finally answered his phone. "What?"
"Barry, thank god…"
"Rebecca?" Even over the phone he could hear the tension in her voice. "What's wrong?"
"It took you so long to answer, I thought something may have happened to you, too."
Barry slipped behind the wheel and turned the ignition. He threw the car in gear and scanned the intersection ahead of him, watching for the other vehicle. He could feel the familiar tightening in his chest as he asked, "What's happened?"
"I'm not really sure," the young woman paused. "Chris and Jill took off."
Barry spotted the car as it drove past him. "Took off? Took off where?"
"I don't know. Dick and I were both in our rooms. I heard some commotion outside, but when I came out, the van was pulling out of the parking lot. I'm assuming Chris was driving, but I can't be certain."
"And Jill was with him?" Barry questioned as he began his pursuit at a discreet distance.
"Ah, no." Rebecca sounded a bit distracted. "She stole some guy's motorcycle and went after him."
Barry's hand jerked the wheel, violently. "She what?" He steadied himself, desperate to keep the other car in his sights. "Did you try calling them?"
Rebecca sighed, loudly. "Of course, I did. Neither of them answered. Can you get back here?"
"Actually, I may have a lead." He could hear a voice speaking to Rebecca in the background and assumed it was Dick. She replied something but Barry couldn't make it out.
"What kind of lead?" she questioned, once again giving Barry her full attention.
"I found Leon."
"That's great!" Rebecca practically shouted. "Is he okay?"
"Yeah, he seems fine," Barry responded. "Except for the company he's keeping."
There was silence on the other end.
"Rebecca?"
"Don't tell me," she uttered softly.
"Wesker's still on the prowl. And if Leon's helping him, than he must have had something to do with the girls disappearance." Barry continued to take a series of turns, attempting to keep the other vehicle in his line of vision.
"How could Leon hook up with Wesker?" the young medic asked, miserably. "How could he do that, Barry?"
"Maybe the same way I did," came the grim response. Despite the evidence, Barry didn't want to believe that Leon would willingly betray them all. He felt as though he should give the rookie cop the benefit of the doubt. After all, Barry had once been Wesker's unwilling accomplice, and he considered himself very fortunate that his friends had stuck by him, in spite of his betrayal.
"Barry, you have to stop blaming…" Rebecca's words got cut off as Barry heard Dick arguing in the background. "Hold on," she said, quickly. "Dick wants to talk to you."
"Barry." Now Dick's voice sounded on the other end of the line.
"Yeah, Dick?"
"Where are you?"
Barry blew out a breath. "Truthfully, I have no idea. Leon just left HCF, so I thought I'd better follow him. Maybe he'll lead me to the girls."
"Or maybe the girls are at HCF."
"Maybe," Barry answered slowly. "Wesker is still there, but my instincts told me to follow Leon."
"Well, my instincts tell me that that bastard has something to do with why my daughter just took off from here like a bat out of hell!" Dick replied angrily.
"Dick, I don't think you should—"
"No offense, Barry, but I don't care what you think."
Barry growled in frustration as the connection went dead.
"Great," he muttered, throwing his phone onto the passenger seat. "Just fucking great."
***
"I can leave here whenever I want."
"Then why don't you?" Sherry asked, staring at Christina in astonishment.
"Because my Mom told me not to," the young girl replied simply.
Sherry shook her head, vigorously. "That makes no sense. Why would your Mother want you to stay here?"
Christina lifted her gaze from the coloring book in her lap. "Because."
"Because, why?"
The young girl shrugged her shoulders. "Just because."
Sherry sighed in frustration. She was getting nowhere, fast. Her roommate was being evasive, and she wasn't much of a conversationalist, either. The blonde flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.
She had spent the better part of the last hour trying to pry whatever information she could from the child, but had only managed to find out the most basic facts. And nothing she had learned so far was going to help her get out of this mess. She was also getting desperate to find out what had become of Claire.
Sherry sat up and eyed the girl, wearily. "Can you tell me how to get out of here?"
"You're not fast enough," Christina replied, casually.
"What?"
"You're not fast enough," the child repeated with a note of impatience.
"How do you know?" Sherry responded, hotly. She had no idea what the little girl meant by that, but her nerves were reaching a breaking point and she was beginning to feel argumentative.
The tiny brunette smiled, mischievously. "Because, I'm the only one who can do it."
"Do what?" Sherry practically shouted as she smacked the palms of her hands against the mattress.
Christina picked her head up and pinned the older girl with her emerald eyes. 'Get past the guards' she mouthed, slowly.
The blonde looked at her with uncertainty. 'How?' she mouthed in return.
'Watch' came the child's response.
Sherry stared at her with a puzzled expression as Christina stood up from her chair and placed the coloring book back on the desk. The girl walked around the empty seat and gripped it firmly from the back. She lifted it high above her head, and in one swift motion, brought it crashing down on top of the desk, causing Sherry to jump up from her seat.
Christina continued to use the chair as a battering ram as the desk began to come apart, spilling its contents to the floor. One of the chair's legs went slicing through the air, causing Sherry to duck, more out of reflex than to avoid any real danger.
The chair was now in pieces, most of which had scattered to different corners of the room with each blow Christina continued to deliver. The girl's expression was one of fury, although Sherry couldn't be sure if it was authentic or just part of the girl's bizarre demonstration.
The sound of a lock being disengaged brought Sherry's attention to the door. She took a step back, her eyes focused on the two people entering the room. The first person was a woman, dressed in some kind of generic security guard's uniform. Sherry immediately took note of the gun she wore on her belt. Right behind her came a second person, a man in a white coat. The blonde felt some modicum of relief at the absence of any Umbrella logos, although given the fact that she was still being held against her will, that seemed almost ludicrous.
The two adults made eye contact, briefly, upon entering the room, and Sherry got the distinct impression that some silent understanding had passed between them. The woman immediately made her way to Christina, while the man stayed near the open doorway, effectively blocking any path Sherry may have wanted to take. Neither of them even acknowledged her presence. She turned to issue a warning to Christina, but even as the words fell from her lips…
…the other girl disappeared right before her very eyes.
She stared in bewilderment as the guard's head whipped around, trying to locate the child. A sudden tap on her shoulder made Sherry jump. She spun around; her mouth dropped open in shock as she saw that the little girl kneeling on the bed behind her.
Christina smiled at Sherry. "Told ya, I was fast."
"W…Wh…" Sherry stammered.
"Christina."
The authoritarian voice caused both girls to turn their heads. The security guard was moving swiftly toward them. Christina shot a quick glance at Sherry, trying to will the girl into action. Sherry caught the child's eyes and nodded in understanding. The girl was providing her with a diversion, and she wasn't about to waste it.
Sherry watched in astonishment as Christina disappeared again.
The guard pulled something from her belt, causing Sherry to freeze for a moment, until she realized it was only a small can. The woman placed some type of mask over her face as she tossed the object toward the middle of the room, continuing to look around for her charge. The man in the doorway followed suit as he reached a hand up to put his own mask in place. There was a loud popping noise as the room began to fill with smoke.
That was the opening Sherry needed.
She bolted toward the door, snatching up a piece of the broken chair as she went, and swung it with all her might. The man was taken completely by surprise, and caught the blow against his kneecap. As he howled in pain, Sherry used the momentary distraction to push him off balance, sending him crashing into the door and thereby leaving the threshold vacant. Without a second thought, she stepped out of the room.
And then, Sherry Birkin ran for her life.
***
Well, well, well. What do we have here? An update? OMG. Okay, okay. It's been a LONG time, I admit it. Anyway, things are really starting to heat up now. I'm not going to say when the next update will come, but I will do my best to get it out asap. And do me a favor, huh? Leave some reviews so I know people are still reading. It will inspire me. ^_^ Later, folks.