Chapter Fifteen
Falling
Seconds ticked away as Claire stared at Leon's calm face. Occasionally his eyelids twitched as though dreaming. So far she couldn't see any change in him. Half of her wanted to ask Wesker how long the virus would take to cause a reaction. It could be hours or days and she would never know unless he told her. It shouldn't be long now... What did that mean, exactly? What was time to Wesker?
But she didn't dare break the silence between him. By angling her head away, by focusing her attention on Leon, she could almost ignore Wesker's stare burning into the back of her neck. She could almost pretend he wasn't there. She was free to hope and whisper and even pray. If she spoke, she would sacrifice that freedom for knowledge.
Isn't that what we always do? she wondered. Sacrifice freedom for knowledge. Umbrella, Wesker, all of them -- the people desperate to find what was never meant to be found. Freedom for knowledge. Life for death. But at least we know.
An alarm klaxon broke the silence.
In spite of herself, Claire pivoted to face Wesker and found him bolt upright. Clearly, the alarm had startled him as well.
He crossed to a computer monitor and pressed a button. "Ada? Report."
The woman's voice was clear and calm. "No clue, boss. I'm just heading out to investigate... unless you want me to stay put."
"Treacherous bitch," Claire growled.
A momentary silence descended. Wesker turned slowly, freezing her in place with his eyes. Without moving, he said: "Find out what is causing all this commotion, Ada, and dispose of it. Unless of course it happens to bear the surname Redfield. Then I want it brought to me."
"Yes sir."
The line went dead, but Wesker continued to stare at her with those gleaming red eyes. Claire trembled, her hands twisting against her restraints. "Your personal relationships are of no concern to me, Miss Redfield," he said at last. "But if you ever interrupt me again, ever interfere with me again, I will show you the true resources at my disposal. Do I make myself clear?"
As mud, she thought dryly, but didn't quite dare to say it. "Yes," she mumbled instead.
"Good." Returning to the console, he tapped at the keyboard. A row of monitors flickered to life above his head, bathing the room in an eerie blue glow. Claire watched as they rapidly flashed images -- what looked like deserted halls and laboratories.
The lab's security system. Of course. She'd used it herself more than once -- not this one, obviously, but others like it. For all its supposed smarts, Umbrella wasn't too good at adapting its technology, even when it had been proven vulnerable or inefficient.
Case in point: she knew of at least three situations where Umbrella's little puppets had gotten out of hand -- four if you counted Wesker. It didn't seem to make them any smarter about security. After all, this was the second Umbrella lab she'd seen Wesker use as a base.
Suddenly an image caught her attention, only a glimpsed shadow before the monitor flicked on -- but all the same, Claire knew against hope or reason who that shadow belonged to. Leon had been right -- Barry had escaped -- Chris was coming for her.
She didn't know if the thought made her glad or terrified.
Wesker must have seen it too, because he slowed the cycle and drifted back through the shots. At last he settled on a dark shot of an overhanging ledge. Tapping a few keys, he brought the scene sharply into focus, and Claire sucked in her breath.
Chris. Chris holding Jill's waist, helping her down from the ledge. Barry behind them, and a crowd of others vanishing slowly into the shadows.
A slow, cruel smile crossed Wesker's face. He shook his head as though disgusted at their audacity and struck another few keys.
On the monitor, a metal door slammed down behind Barry. Jill spun, capsizing Chris; they fell to the ground together and Barry narrowly missed landing on top of them. The monitor didn't have sound, but Claire got the gist of things -- Chris waving his arms and shouting, the others running around in response to his orders, searching for any means of escape.
Claire was very certain they would find none.
"Ada," Wesker was saying now, "we have visitors in the south atrium. Proceed there at once."
"Gotcha."
Claire stared in disbelief. "You're crazy," she told him. "My brother will gut her where she stands. You don't really think that one psycho bitch can stand up to a whole team of professionals?"
"Of course not, dear heart. I have full intentions of joining her." He polished his sunglasses on the corner of his shirt and slid them over his eyes. "But a reminder of precisely how much she owes me won't hurt in the meantime." In the blink of an eye he was standing over her, her chin firmly in his hand, ignoring her attempts to pull away. "Keep an eye on Mr. Kennedy for me, Miss Redfield. For the sake of science."
She struggled futilely against him. "You're insane, Wesker. You're a crazy, inhuman, pathetic little worm, and I hope my brother guts you where you stand."
She fully expected another blow, but he surprised her by smiling. "You may be right. We'll see, won't we."
And then he was gone.
Claire didn't waste a second before turning back to Leon. "Wake up," she shouted, struggling to reach him -- impossible, since almost six feet of space separated their bound hands, but she tried just the same. "Leon! Open your eyes, damn it!"
He didn't even stir. Claire collapsed on her pillow, exhausted, casting her eyes frantically around the room. There must be something she could use as a weapon, as a way to escape!
There probably was, she reflected dryly. The problem was, she couldn't reach anything not actually lying on the bed beside her, and she didn't think a bedsheet or a pillow would be much help.
She squirmed against her restraints, drawing blood from her wrists as she jerked her hand into the leather cuff. Forcing her thumb into her palm, she tried to wiggle free, but had to admit defeat when the pain almost blinded her.
Great. What now? Lie back and wait for Wesker to show up with Chris so they could all die together?
"Claire?"
It took her a moment to place the voice. Then she swiveled her head fast enough to give herself whiplash. "Leon! You're awake!"
"I'm awake," he agreed softly, his eyes hazy -- like someone on a heavy dose of painkillers, she realized. "What's going on?"
She lowered her voice, trying to penetrate the sluggishness enveloping him. "Leon, listen to me. Chris and Jill and Barry are here. They have a team in the building. Wesker and Ada went after them..."
"Ada?"
She fought to control the fury in her stomach. "Yes, Ada," she replied in what she hoped was a calm tone. "They're going to gut my brother then come back to finish us. Leon, are you listening? Can you hear me?"
"Claire..." He tried to raise a hand, seeming puzzled when he encountered the restraints. "I don't feel right."
"He pumped you full of the virus," she whispered. "Sedatives and the virus, Leon. I don't know what they're doing to you... Oh God..."
"The virus..."
"Leon, don't you remember? Are you okay? How do you feel?"
He half-smiled at her. "My head's itchy."
Claire laughed in spite of herself. That was starting to sound like the old Leon. "If you're awake enough to have any bright ideas, we could sure use a brilliant escape plan right about now."
Leon blinked a few times, his eyes almost normal. He started to sit up, grunting as he once again encountered the restraints.
And then he shot forward, tearing the leather cuffs right out of the bed.
Turning to meet Claire's shocked expression, he offered her a grin. "How's that for a start?"