Chapter Eighteen

Sacrifice

Claire's heart thudded in her ears as she leaped down a flight of stairs. She heard Chris shouting behind her, but Jill was dragging him away, shouting just as loud if not louder. You go girl, she cheered silently.

What the hell was she doing?

She leaped down another flight of stairs and peered over the ledge, dimly registering the electronic voice's reminder that she had thirty seconds until detonation (and my God she was sick of hearing that voice and that particular warning). She scanned the rubble caused by the rocket, her hands shaking on the ledge...

There!

Wesker's crumpled form slumped against a ledge. Swallowing, Claire caught the floor and swung herself down, gasping as her legs absorbed the shock of the drop.

What was she doing? That one was easy. She was rescuing the most diabolic, evil, cold-hearted man -- if you could call him that -- alive -- if you could call him that. A man who wanted her brother dead, a man who had tortured her, killed Steve, infected Leon with some bizarre virus.

So the better question was why?

Because we're different from him, Claire told herself as she leaped down the last flight of stairs, running to his side. Because if we leave him to die we become the monsters he wants us to be. Because I won't let myself become a murderer.

Bullshit, answered a soft voice in the back of her head.

She stifled it. She had no time to think about the whys of the situation just now anyway. She was running out of time; if she'd gambled wrong, if Wesker was dead, she'd never escape the lab before it blew up.

Part of her had always known she'd die in an Umbrella laboratory -- if by always you meant the last two years.

"Wesker," she shouted, shaking him hard. "Wesker! Wake up, damn it!"

He stirred as the electronic voice began its countdown: "10...9...8..."

I've never stuck around long enough to hear the countdown, Claire thought, and shook Wesker all the harder. "Wake up! Come on you bastard, or you'll get us both killed!"

"7...6...5..."

"Oh God," Claire whispered, clutching the collar of his jacket. Finally she realized the utter futility of her... well, you couldn't call it a plan, really; it was an instinctive response. And it was going to get her killed.

And if she had to decide again, she'd do the exact same thing.

Why, damn it? Why?

"4...3...2..."

She dropped her head to her chest.

In a flash of movement, Wesker shot straight up, his arms whipping around her. She actually heard the voice begin the word "one," and then a blast of painful wind struck her face. She threw her arms up to protect herself. The wind went on and on; she couldn't see anything, couldn't open her eyes to try. The only solid thing in the world was Wesker himself, rock solid arms clasping her to his chest. She huddled against him, eyes clenched shut, praying for this to end.

And then it did as something struck her hard in the back. She flew forward, Wesker landing on top of her, forcing her down into the cold, wet dirt. She heard the shock of the explosion and screamed as a burning chunk of debris landed less than a foot from her head; Wesker flicked it away and shoved her further beneath him. She didn't resist.

At last the residual noise died away, and only a ringing in Claire's ears remained. Wesker sat up and she slowly joined him, both of their stares fixed on the smoldering remains of the lab in the distance -- and not the too far distant distance, either. Claire shuddered. She glanced at Wesker and found the back of his clothing shredded, spots of blood oozing free. "Are you...?" she managed.

He'd lost his sunglasses in the fall, and the eyes he turned on her now gleamed a red to rival the flames in the distance. "What on earth were you thinking, Miss Redfield?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you escape with your dear brother?"

Claire wavered under his stare, not sure of the answer herself. "Why did you save me?" she countered.

"Insurance."

"Right." She sat back on her heels and shivered in the cold air, praying Chris and the others had escaped in time. She had to find him, if he'd even speak to her... "Who set off the self destruct sequence anyway?"

"I imagine it was Miss Valentine. I did notice her vanish, but I was too preoccupied to think anything of it."

He sounded calm, like he wasn't sitting in the middle of a snow field by a burning building with lacerations and burns on his back and a bleeding gash on his... No, she corrected herself, examining his forehead. The wound had closed already. "What about Ada?"

"Hopefully she found her own escape route. I certainly didn't have time to search for her."

They sat in silence a moment longer. Finally, Claire rose to unsteady feet. "Chris... I have to find him, make sure he's all right. Make sure he knows I'm all right."

"You should have gone with him, Claire."

She blinked. "What did you call me?" Slowly Wesker rose to his feet, uncurling himself like a cat. He offered no response but stood there with his arms folded, still staring at the burning lab. Claire shook her head. "Well... I'm off," she said lamely. "Good luck, I guess... As long as you're not trying to kill my brother."

"I'm afraid I can't let you leave."

She stared at him, certain she'd misheard. "What?"

He twisted his head so he was staring at her. "You're still my link to Chris, Miss Redfield."

"Oh, we're back to Miss Redfield, are we?"

"Don't push me."

"I saved your life!" she shouted, anger surging in her chest. "I don't even know why I did it, but I did! And this is how you thank me?"

"I saved yours," he pointed out. "Not only here, but several times before. If we're keeping score..."

"My life was only in danger because you put me in danger!"

"What did you think would happen? That I'd have a sudden change of heart, a conversion? That I'd fall on my knees in gratitude? That's not the way it works, dear heart. Not the way at all."

"You're despicable."

"Yes."

"You're not even a man. You're a monster, a creature, a..."

"I'm not going to argue with you. You're coming with me."

Claire spat on the ground, not having quite enough nerve to do it in his face, and ran. Wesker was on her in a second, as she'd known he'd be, but she had to make the effort. She struggled furiously against him, writhing like someone possessed, until finally he dropped her to the ground and dealt her a sharp kick to the head. A wash of pain exploded as the darkness swallowed her.

Idiot, she thought as she closed her eyes. You'll die after all.

And she was probably right.