Chapter 34: Showdown
October 3, 1998
4:20 AM
Arklay Mountain Research Station
Zeke climbed through the near total darkness of the maintenance shaft, a hollow litany of the dead playing on a loop through his mind. Joe Cooper, the new guy. Skip Francis, the brave kid. Sam Brocket, my unwanted rival. Rachel Parker, the woman I love, the woman I failed more than anyone else. The list continued, naming all those pulled down into death by the Hell Umbrella had unleashed on the city. Naming all those he had let down. That list was far, far too long.
Hidden and high above, barely audible, came the warning that only thirty-four minutes remained until ultimate destruction. Zeke heard the words clearly enough but they did not stir him to move any more swiftly. Where was the sense in striving to survive when one's soul had already been bled, butchered and ground to dust?
Live or die, sink or swim, it's all the same now. Zeke climbed on and the litany continued to echo inside his skull.
A gloved hand reached down through the open hatch and the lieutenant glanced up to see Wesley's face hovering above him. The Brit looked like a mile of country road: dirty, dusty and unstable but he was there, he was real. In a city overrun with impossible horror, with the delusions of madmen, Zeke Wilcott's best friend, his loyalty and devotion, were real.
Not that I deserve it, the Ranger reminded himself, silencing the naming of the dead only a moment, not that I deserve that from anyone anymore.
"Coop?" Wesley asked as he hauled Zeke up from the last rung of the ladder.
Zeke shook his head and saw anguish flash across his friend's gaze, knowing those emotions were not mirrored in his own dark eyes. He was past the point of pain, past the point of feeling. A man needed a soul to feel anything and Ezekiel Wilcott had none anymore. No spirit, no heart, no hope.
Kathryn Ward, the woman I promised to take care of and allowed to die instead. Curtis Sullivan, my mentor, my leader. Tech, the man who saved all our lives, the man whose name I never bothered to learn. Briefly, Zeke wondered if there was any end at all to that roster of the fallen then decided it made no difference.
Upon leaving the maintenance shaft, the lieutenant had expected to come out on the helipad itself but instead found himself in a narrow, low-ceilinged hallway, dyed crimson by the cold glow of emergency lights. He felt no surprise though. He was empty, drained of anything that even resembled emotion. It was a strangely…calming sensation.
Eddie and Shank stood in the plain corridor as well, looking nervous but still hopeful. Pierce was at the edge of the hall, where the passage twisted to the right, studying something encased in glass with his flashlight. The sniper tapped the casing with one finger before hurrying back to where the others had congregated.
"It's a map." He said, tucking his light away. "There's only two entrances up here: the ladder shaft that unlocks in an emergency and another doorway at the end of the hall. All that's up here is a freight elevator. I'm guessing that they normally used it to transport cargo up to the helipad but it should do nicely as a way off this rock."
Zeke nodded. One way was as good as any other. "Lead the way, sergeant."
As if reminding them of the need for haste a tremor shook the building and that cool female voice said, "Thirty-two minutes remain until destruction. All personnel must evacuate immediately. The self-destruct sequence has been activated. This sequence cannot be aborted."
"I really wish that bitch would shut up." Eddie hissed through gritted teeth and then they were all moving, rushing down the corridor with what little energy remained in their exhausted bodies.
"The elevator is in the middle of the passage." Ryan explained as they rounded the corner. "Follow me."
Zeke followed though he did so automatically, without thought. His legs, sore and weary, carried him steadily forward as his mind turned back to the silent obituaries the he held within himself.
Jacob Foster, who I was powerless to help. Tessa Foster, who I abandoned. William Brown, who I could not save, dead because of his own grief. Slugger, who died out of my sight, who I should have tried harder to protect. Each one of those names should have bit like a poisoned knife and yet the Ranger felt nothing. Nothing but that peculiar sense of calm.
A splitting shriek and the clash of metal banished the grim litany once more and Zeke looked up as the ventilation grill in front of him exploded outwards. Hissing and clicking in its throat, a shadowy figure slithered through the opening, landing a pace ahead of Ryan. Zeke recognized the beast as one of the Scuttler's from the water treatment plant; long and reptilian, the black sinew of its muscles revealed.
Before the monster could move to the offensive Zeke and Shank cut the screaming mutant down with protracted bursts from their AK-47s. Molten lead sliced through the Scuttler as if it were made of rice paper, the sheer force of so many rounds at close range hurling the creature across the hall. With a final gasping squeal the Scuttler twitched out the last of its life against a wall now painted in a thick coat of greasy blood.
"I'm out." Shank called, tossing away the black-finished assault rifle before accepting the pistol Wes passed back to him.
Zeke leapt over the Scuttler's bleeding remains without a second thought for the unfortunate creature, the list that was the punishment for his folly beginning to run through his mind anew: Kirk Judges, a friend and teammate, dead with his throat torn out. Shots, killed in an ambush because I wasn't paying enough attention. Rachel Parker, my friend and my love, stabbed to death, cold, lost and alone. Skip Francis, little more than a boy, dead by my own hand because I wasn't watching out for him. So many names, so much death to lay at his doorstep. Yet it was his, his alone.
"There it is!" Eddie cried in tense elation at Zeke's shoulder.
Set against the wall to their right, in the very center of the corridor rested a tall freight elevator, partially concealed by a lowered gate of steel mesh. The lift itself was massive, easily capable of holding twenty men comfortably with room for twenty more. Whatever cargo Umbrella transported from the AMRS it was huge. Pressed into the walls on either side of the elevator were deep indentations, alcoves.
Zeke skidded to a halt beside Pierce as the sniper threw open the mesh gate, a new sound floating to his ears from the opposite end of the hall. Boot steps, he realized, bringing his rifle up. A moment later Scott Owens, pale and sweating, came into view.
The crack of the gunshot shattered all other noise. Zeke held the trigger down, lost in the steady pattern of automatic fire, the stock of the weapon bucking against his shoulder. The traitor, the murderer, the mole, ducked, the stream of bullets passing overhead to slap into the wall. Scrambling, Owens threw himself onto his belly and dove for cover. Roaring, filled with a hot, spontaneous fury, Zeke moved forward, unable to pry his finger from around the AK's trigger.
"Owens!" He bellowed, spraying the area. "OWENS!"
The lieutenant's world rippled and he was no longer standing in the corridor of the AMRS. He was deep in the Arklay Forest, lightning crashing overhead, dancing a frightening dance in the clouds as he held Rachel's fragile body and watched the life drain from her large beautiful eyes. You can't save everyone, Zeke. Her words rang in his mind, her smile flashed through his head. I can't save anyone, Rachel.
Another ripple and he was in the hallway of Saint Jude's Hospital, starring at the bloody ruin of Sam Brocket's severed leg. Kathryn was kneeling next to the wounded man, weeping over her friend and partner as he fixed Zeke with a serious look. You're…an all right guy, Wilcott. Take care of…Kathy for me, Sam's final words to him. I failed you both, Sam, I can't take care of anyone.
One more ripple and Zeke found himself standing over Skip, holding a pistol to the young man's head as he coughed up blood, infected with Umbrella's precious poisoned, doomed to a fate worse than death. You…you have to shoot me. So I don't come back. The young man had pleaded in his final moments and Zeke had assuaged him. He had pulled the trigger. I'll get those bastards, Skip. He spoke the promise even as he remembered it. I'll get every fucking one of them.
Owens was one of them. Owens had been one of them all along, working to undermine Zeke's efforts, playing for time until the right moment came to launch his betrayal in full light. Zeke realized then that he had been mistaken in believing that litany of the deceased belonged to him alone. It belonged to Scott Owens as well.
"Owens! Owens!" Zeke continued to scream and advance, unaware that he had run out of ammunition, heedless of the metallic object skittering across the tiles towards him. He was the hunter and he had his prey.
"Down!" Wesley shouted at his side and then something heavy pushed Zeke off balance, sent him sprawling along the ground. A thunderclap shook the passage, its concussion clearing the lieutenant's head even as heat and smoke washed over him, choking his senses. With the last of his blood-rage dried up, the Ranger shook his head, trying to silence the bells jangling in his ears and looked around.
Zeke found himself awash in a small pool of groaning humanity. The others all lay piled atop one another in the same alcove as he, grunting and cursing as they struggled to regain their feet. Coughing, the lieutenant pulled himself back onto unsteady legs, the ground trembling as the last of the shockwaves passed. Reaching down, he pulled Wes back to a stand.
"Frag grenade." The Brit answered, panting. "Bloody hell."
"The elevator!" Eddie cried as the thrum of heavy machinery flooded the hallway. Hopping back to their feet in a rush, the five men tore back towards the lift.
"Shit." Shank spat as they came around the corner just in time to see the gaping, empty shaft, the platform rising rapidly upwards. "Those fuckers stole our ride!"
"Will they be able to hold the elevator on the level with the helipad, Pierce?" Zeke asked the sniper with a fierce, pointed gaze. The sight of Owens had filled the lieutenant with an overwhelming thirst for vengeance. He may not have deserved life but he was still entitled to revenge. If not for his own benefit then he owed it to the dead. "Pierce?"
"No, sir." Ryan answered. "There was a notice next to the map that said the elevator can't be locked down during an emergency. It returns to this floor automatically after each trip."
As if to confirm the sharpshooter's words, the droning, mechanical chatter grew louder, nearer. The elevator was descending once more. Zeke blew out a breath he had not realized he had been holding.
"Finally, some good luck." Eddie sighed. "And not a moment too soon."
The young officer was no sooner done speaking when a violent tremor rocked the hall, making the floor quake as if a wave was passing beneath it. Zeke clutched the wall for support, saw Wesley do the same, and then he heard it: An ululating roar, a wail of the damned that could belong to no man or animal in existence but was the soulless voice of a marauding nightmare. "Goldeneyes," the lieutenant whispered.
That thing will slash us into sushi in a minute – less if it decides to start running.
"I'll stay." Shank said quickly as if reading the Ranger's mind, already starring down the corridor in the direction of the thunderous footfalls. "You guys get topside and keep our pals in black off that bird. I'll dance around the big dude coming for a minute or tow, keep him off your tails, then follow."
"I'll stay too, lieutenant." Eddie offered in a rush, scrubbing the sweat from his eyes. "I'll make sure we're around to catch the next one up."
"No, I'll – " Zeke began then bit his tongue.
"No, I'll stay," I had been about to say. But then who would be around to get that chopper in the air? I'm the only one with the training: Just one more advantage to being Zeke Wilcott. The lieutenant sighed. He was wasting time. What will be will be. I should have learned that by now.
"Fine," he said gruffly, tossing Eddie one of the two grenades he carried in his pouch. The floor rumbled as Goldeneyes came a step closer and the lift skidded to a halt. "If things go south, use that." His expression grew darker, more serious as he clapped a hand on the rookie's shoulder. "Don't be late. Both of you."
"We won't be, Zeke." The young cop said, swallowing thickly. "Now, go get that 'copter ready."
The lieutenant hesitated a second longer, nodding grimly as he starred into Eddie's wide, frightened eyes. Turning on his heel he ordered the last two members of his platoon onto the elevator and hit the button marked "H" on the keypad. Quickly, the lift rose out of sight, leaving the two men below to their showdown with one monster while Zeke went to his with three others.
Above the grinding clatter of metal and wire, the litany continued in the lieutenant's mind with two new additions this time: Shank, the last Psycho. Officer Eddie Gabbor, the stalwart rookie. Two more men that died for me.
"Time for the final showdown." Zeke muttered too quietly for Wes or Ryan to hear. Then I can die for all them.
--------- Page Break ----------
Another roar shook the walls of the passage, carrying with it sounds of death and agony beyond description. That inhuman wail was the voice of destruction itself. Shuddering, Eddie tucked Zeke's grenade into one of his pockets. Dust rained down from the ceiling as the terrible beast around the corner continued its march forward. What did I just volunteer for?
"Twenty minutes remain until destruction. All personnel must evacuate immediately. The self-destruct sequence has been activated. This sequence cannot be aborted."
"Yeah, yeah." Eddie grumbled to the disembodied voice as he checked the clip in his pistol. "One problem at a time all right?"
If it makes you feel any better, brickhead, Tredd said casually from inside his skull, you'll be dead long before twenty minutes are up.
"Shut up, Ben." Eddie hissed then caught Shank looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Growling, the officer shook his head furiously and sighed. "Sorry, feeling a little squirrely right now. What do you think the chances of us pulling this off are?"
Shank opened his mouth to reply but snapped his jaws closed when the hall shook crazily once more, knocking the two grown men to the floor as if they were rag dolls. Howls raced down the corridor making the duo grimace. The giant must have been striking at the walls and ground in its mindless hunger, Eddie realized with a shiver, climbing back to his feet.
"Bad." The biker answered when they were both standing again. "Bad but I don't care. The only friends – the only family – I had left in the whole goddamn world died in this shithole tonight so I've got nothing left to lose. Might as well go out with a bang."
And what about you, greenhorn? Tredd mocked. What are you doing here? This hero stuff hardly suits a yellowbelly like you.
I'm no coward! Eddie fired back silently but received only one of Tredd's derisive laughs in response. Cursing the voice and the man it had belonged to, Eddie stomped the sardonic chuckling out of his mind.
"I guess you could say I'm here because I've got something to prove to myself." Eddie told the biker.
"That must be one hell of a chip on your shoulder then." The Psycho replied then laughed. "It's funny. I always figured a man in your line of work would be the one to put me in the grave. The Lord and His mysterious ways, eh?"
Eddie was about to make a joke in return, anything to relieve the tension that was making his bowels clench like a vise, when the towering abomination Zeke called Goldeneyes stepped into sight.
There was a terrible immensity to the creature It was tall enough for two men, the top of its skull scrapping against the low ceiling. Muscles bulged and rippled beneath the giant's leathery hide like small, rounded waves. Foot-long talons dragged across the linoleum floor, leaving deep gashes in their wake. Its eyes, shimmering in the dim light like gold fire, burned with an insatiable lust for blood.
Knees locking, Eddie felt the bile rise in the back of his throat. He knew that nothing could stand against this agent of violence, this living apocalypse, and survive. The urge to run was overpowering but the young officer willed himself to stand his ground. Zeke and the others were counting on him, he would not flee or cry for help like at the barricade and if he would die then he would do so with dignity. Laugh at that, Tredd.
"Here we go." Shank mumbled, unsheathing two throwing knives from behind his belt.
Hurling one then the other, the two blades sank deep into the giant's throat and forehead. There was the crunch of bone and rip of sinew as the steel penetrated coarse flesh, splashing oil blood across the tiles. Growling, impervious to its injuries, Goldeneyes took another step, the concussion of its massive footfall dizzying Eddie. Around Shank's knives a purple ichor was sealing up the lacerations, stemming the flow of diseased blood.
More like motor oil, Eddie thought in a feverish panic as the beast came closer, motor oil powering a locomotive with claws and teeth.
Scared are we, brickhead? Tredd cackled.
"Shut up, Ben." Eddie hissed at the voice automatically. He raised his sidearm. "Go for the eyes!"
Following his own advice, the rookie pulled the trigger twice, one round bursting the glowing right eye like an overripe plum while the second struck the giant where its nose should have been. Screaming its displeasure, Goldeneyes slapped savagely at one wall with its paw, causing a small earthquake and collapsing a section of the concrete. Unperturbed, the giant strode forward another pace, dropping into a low, predatory crouch.
There was a soft whisper of sound as Shank drew Wesley's .45 and then the steady pop of gunfire. Two of the biker's three shots found their way into Goldeneyes' considerable jaw; the third blew apart the giant's one remaining eye in a gruesome explosion of pus. Purple slime flowed in to glue the wound shut but for all the creature's ability to heal it could not grow back an eye. Blinded, Goldeneyes whirled, laying about the air with its glinting claws, roaring with frustration, rending sections of the wall clear in half.
"Ha!" Shank laughed triumphantly. "That gave the big bastard something to think about. Get to the elevator kid, I can hear it coming back d – "
The Psycho's words drifted away, his grizzled face suddenly tense and troubled as the giant ceased its impotent flailing. Deathly silent now, Goldeneyes turned, the slits that served as its nostrils flaring, testing the air. Searching it. It can smell us, the thought drew all the warmth from Eddie's blood.
You didn't think it would be that easy, did you greenhorn? Tredd scolded.
Ignoring the haunting voice of his deceased partner, Eddie fired again. One round was all the officer got off before Goldeneyes charged. The towering horror did not just run up the corridor – it torpedoed up it, racing to close the distance faster than a linebacker with the quarterback in sight. Cursing, Shank flung himself into the alcove on the right. Eddie ducked low, pressing his body flat against the wall, cringing as talons raked the wall over his head.
"Shit!" Eddie swore. From out of view the announcer informed him that there were fifteen minutes left in his life. "It might be shorter than that, honey." Eddie grumbled.
"The lift is here!" Shank shouted, still sprawled on his back in the alcove as the freight elevator announced its arrival with a reverberating thunk. "Get to it now, kid!" The biker clambered to his feet.
Not needing to be told twice, the rookie darted across the hall – then threw his body out of the way as a dark, howling shape tore past him. Heart in his throat, blood thundering in his ears, Eddie looked up to see that, while he had been nimble enough to dodge Goldeneyes' second attack, Shank had not been so lucky.
Caught between the giant and the alcove the biker was unable to move swiftly enough and as Goldeneyes brought one clawed hand up, the twelve inch bone spikes carved a trio of bloody scratches up Shank's thigh, sending the Psycho sliding backwards across the floor. Eddie heard the monster sniff the air once more, growling hungrily as it caught the coppery scent of fresh blood. Clutching his leaking wounds, the biker screamed.
"Shank!"
Where's your fucking luck now, Ed? Tredd asked with a snort.
"Shut up, Ben." Pulling himself back to his feet, Eddie opened up on the back of the giant's skull.
The bullets hammered into their mark, splattering fountains of black blood across the walls. Eddie continued to fire until he clicked empty, then reached for a magazine.
Goldeneyes' ceased its methodical plodding towards Shank's prone, groaning form and turned to confront this new threat. Pulse racing, lungs ready to burst in his chest, Eddie groped desperately for another clip – and cursed when he came up empty handed. Grunting like a satisfied lion about to taste blood and warm, sweet flesh, Goldeneyes dropped into a crouch. Its killing stance.
"Shit." Eddie breathed, letting the handgun fall, digging instead for Zeke's grenade. If things go south, use that, he had said before departing. "I'd say we're south enough right now."
His sweaty palm closed around the cool, metallic orb. Goldeneyes raised one, enormous sword-fingered hand. Benjamin Tredd laughed with mad glee.
See you soon, brickhead!
"Not so fast, skidmark!" Shank bellowed leaping up onto the creature's shoulders form behind, an arm wrapped around the beast's thick throat, one of his long-bladed Bowie knives held flashing in his fist. "You were playing with me before, remember?"
Man and monster roared murderously. Shank brought his blade down into Goldeneyes' neck once, twice, three times, the knife penetrating its leathery carapace with surprising ease. Eddie watched in slack-lipped horror as obsidian blood sprayed from the awful tears, showering Shank's face as he stabbed again and again, unrelenting, holding onto the giant's throat with all his strength. It was a contest of savages, the battle-crazed cries of the combatant's setting the hallway trembling. Eddie staggered back.
Continuing to holler and howl, Shank drive his knife in up to the hilt this time, twisting the blade as he gave voice to a challenged. Screaming, Goldeneyes spun about like a whirlwind, shrieking its rage. Faster and faster it spun, a hideous mockery of a dance, until finally Shank's endurance gave out and his grip broke. The Psycho was thrown from the giant's back, flying five feet down the corridor before finally crashing into the opposite wall. Bones snapped and the biker fell limply to the ground where he lay motionless.
Forgetting the fallen man, Goldeneyes turned its attention to Eddie in the space of a breath. Dropping into its killing posture, the giant seemed to coil then spring, speeding up the hall faster than a dart. Blind but still lethal, Goldeneyes moved unerringly towards Eddie, barring his path to the beckoning lift. Its claws, dripping and blood caked, shined brighter than the sun in the murky light of the hall.
You could try and run, newbie. Tredd suggested with disgust. I always figured you for a runner.
"No, Ben." Eddie said, freeing Zeke's grenade from his pocket. "No more running." He popped the pin, flicked off the clasp, starring into Goldeneyes' sightless visage. "Catch."
The giant bellowed as it closed in on the rookie with incredulous speed, dropping its jaw to its chest. Eddie lobbed the grenade then releasing it into the dark abyss of the creature's mouth. Then the beast was on him and hot pain screamed through Eddie's body as those foot-long bone talons pierced his side. Goldeneyes roared its victory; the grenade exploded and the detonation carried Eddie away into oblivion, into endless night.
I'm no coward, Ben, was his last thought, what do you think of me now?
Benjamin Tredd had no answer.
Author's Note: I'm back! Once again I offer you, my Readers, a thousand apologies for my prolonged absence. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and please don't forget to drop me a review. Let me know what you think. There should be two or three more chapters and then an epilogue. After that I might think about doing a sequel featuring the survivors of this one. Let me know what you think of that idea. Enjoy!