Part Five

And I find
There is light
There is hope
There is a glow

- At the End, by 16 Volt

The crash mat that broke her fall gave a startlingly rough embrace as her body collided against it. Her vision unfolded and pulled itself into a harsh and blinding focus and it was mere moments till she realised that she was back on the island. Distant sounds of clanging meal and the rough spitting of electrical wires merged with the rushing of waves and the shrieks of seagulls were noticeably absent from the dead rock this base had become. It smelt liked salt, blood, gunpowder and filth. Lifting herself into sitting position, she noticed the rope looped around her waist. She tugged them free from her wrists and torso before flexing her hands in a slow circle.

Welcome back to reality Ada. Saddler certainly has an interesting taste in games.

A maze of rusting towers arced high around her, penetrating the thick, grey sky. It was raining tiny shards of ice now and the air was like a blade slicing into her lungs. Her limbs tingled as blood flooded back into her veins.

'Ada!'

Her head snapped upwards at the sound of her name. It was Leon, dressed in that dark grey outfit, and armed to the teeth, his hair sweeping over his temple. He had survived the surgery to remove the parasite. She looked above her and saw the remnants of a harness flapping in the gale. He must have cut her free.

'You okay?' he asked, anxiety and anger pouring from his stare. Several lines of worry were etched onto his face and his body was taut with nervous energy. Their eyes met for a moment, connecting in the gloom of dawn, and she saw his shoulders relax. She felt a deep and intense urge to wrap her arms around him.

Time to wake up Ada! That lake doesn't exist anymore. It has been an industrial site for the past five years; some faceless company bulldozed those pretty little houses, remember? There are no happy endings. It was just a dream. Forget and focus.

Ada smiled grimly, 'I've been better.'

Ignoring the dull throb of her limbs, Ada was about to stand when she heard a deep, throaty laugh. Osmund Saddler stood several meters away, a pillar of purple with a snide and decadent smile. The staff in his hand flapped its tiny tentacles as if reacting to the sound of their voices. Bile rose in the back of Ada's mouth and a torrent of adrenaline swept away the physical agony, leaving fury in its wake. She wanted to slash that bastard's throat.

Leon must have been feeling the same way, as she detected the slightest quiver in his usually calm voice, 'What's so funny?'

'Oh, I think you know,' Saddler purred, 'The American prevailing is a cliché that only happens in your Hollywood movies. Mr. Kennedy, you entertain me. To show my appreciation, I will help you awaken from your world of clichés.'

His jaw unhinged like a snake about to swallow its prey. Through his yawning mouth Ada saw his glowing third eye swell and roll through his throat, squeezing past his sharp and jagged teeth. His head shuddered on his neck under the strain and his skin split, discharging rivers of golden slime along his face.

'Ada,' Leon called to her, 'Stand back.'

Without hesitation, Ada slid from the mat and charged out of the arena. She trusted him, but she wouldn't let him have all the fun. Perhaps he knew that. Perhaps he trusted her too.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Once she had reached a safe distance Ada span on her heel and turned back, her dress fluttering in the breeze. Saddler's body had burst, his flesh tearing as four giant legs slammed onto the floor. Yellow, putrid gunk splashed against the metal walkway as his body, the last vestiges of his human form, dangled like a discarded shell. His third eye was welded to a branching feeler with pincers that stretched several feet up into the heavens. He gave an unholy howl that was magnified by the wind and soared through the compound. The flood lamps overhead shone several macabre spotlights that were almost vulgar in their illumination of the creature. Ada let slip a furtive smile as she reached for her gun holster. It looked like Saddler had been too arrogant to disarm her. Tightening her grip on the weapon, she felt its familiar weight against her palm.

The bigger they are…

Her heels pounded the floor as she dashed to the nearest tower. Arming and discharging her grapple gun, she sliced through the air to land atop it with an elegant forward spin. Palms hitting the railing she stared pensively down at the battle raging beyond her. Leon, gun raised confidently, darted away from the slashing limb Saddler spun at his head. He was taking his time to line up each shot, making every bullet count. She realised, that like her, he was low on ammo. The two of them, as they were, were not enough to beat this creature. Ada scanned the horizon for anything that could help. Her eyes frantically jumped from tower to tower before settling greedily on a rocket launcher, which nested comfortably at the opposite end of the compound. This was one of her luckier days it seemed. She knew she couldn't afford to spare another glance to assess Leon's status with Saddler. She had to be content with the sound of his gunfire for reassurance that he was still alive.

The force of her grapple gun reverberated through her left arm and she once again airborne. Ada tucked her legs under her body as she landed on the distant platform. Her dress slapped against her bare and freezing legs as she flew along the interlocking maze of metal walkways. Smoke from various industrial apparatus curled around the towers, coating them in a peppery and thickly acidic fog. Turning a corner, she slid to a halt at the site of one of those plaga-infested animals swinging a mace and carrying a thick, wooden shield. Barely pausing for breath, she raised her weapon and fired. Splinters erupted around them and Ada was gone before his limp body had even kissed the floor. She jumped down to a lower level and continued barely aware of the sweat and dirt that caked her body or the painful pulsing of her ankles with each pounding footfall. Another thug screamed towards her, his hands outstretched. His body was covered in a tattered uniform that flaked off this grey skin as if renouncing its pathetic parody of normality and dignity. Ada ran down the slope using its height as an advantage and brutally kicked her foe, his body shattering the railing behind him and tumbling off the ledge.

Come on, you're taking too long.

Throwing herself at towards the edge of the platform, Ada dragged her shaking legs up a ladder that was liberally bronzed with rust. More platforms, more ledges, more time between the gunshots in the battle beneath her. She grappled her way to another ledge, which looked worryingly similar to the one she had just left. Worse still, it seemed to be a dead-end. Ada huffed in frustration and turned back only come face to face with a metal staff and a roaring Ganado. She ducked to the floor missing the attack, but felt her gun slip from her fingers and saw it slide along the walkway. The stocky creature, with eyes glinting dully over a red bandana, raised its weapon once again and let it fall towards her.

Damn it!

Ada span away, only vaguely aware of the sound of the mace striking the floor behind her, when her eyes met a sight several yards away. It was the rocket launcher. She snatched her handgun from the floor and rolled over to face Saddler's thug. Her bare back felt the icy sting of the metal platform as she fired the last of her bullets at the creature. Its body shuddered at each impact, tottering on its legs, and tainted blood ran down in rivets. But he didn't die. He recovered and blindly launched himself at her again. A malicious and satisfied smile spread across Ada's face as she aimed her grapple gun behind her and fired. She waited until her enemy was barely a meter away before flicking the second catch. The grapple recoiled its cable and dragged her body away from his clawing fingers. Seconds later the crimson dart had met her target.

'Here. Use this!' Ada heaved the rocket launcher over the railing and heard it slam onto the floor below. Déjà vu all over again.

Leon ran to the launcher and hoisted it onto his shoulder with practised ease. Then he fired, sending the missile to pierce Saddler's eye. His final death knell was a shriek that was swallowed by the resulting explosion of gunpowder meeting flesh. Ada raised her arm to shield the glare from her eyes.

What remained of Saddler, as far as she could tell once she had found her way back to ground level, was a blackened and brittle husk. Putrid, black smoke swelled in waves from the pile of burning flesh and torn robes and the stench of oil and sulphur seared the back of Ada's throat making her gag. The floor beneath it was scarred and torn. The hole formed a deep, dark depression that overflowed with the yellow pus that had fed him so heartily in life and now drowned him in death. It was a fitting final bed.

Leon was already crouched beside the vial by the time she arrived at ground zero. Rolling the glass cylinder through his fingers with intense fascination, he didn't hear her sharp footsteps as she approached and reacted only to the soft click of her handgun. His body seemed to harden at the sound as if suddenly coated in cold steel.

'Sorry Leon,' Ada purred, 'Hand it over.'

Leon slowly rose and turned to face her, a look of disbelief and perhaps mild resentment glowed through the pale curtain of his hair. And then it changed to acceptance. So resigned was he to her betrayal. Images flickered in the corner of her eye; naked desire, affection, concern, joy. A body curled around another, a strong pair of hands, a whispered promise. Every expression she had seen play across his face during that dream was dancing behind her eyelids now, taunting her till she could hardly remember which existence was real and which was merely a twisted, painful delusion.

I am truly sorry Leon. But you know why I'm here. You're not a kid anymore and neither am I.

Despite the tender sting of regret and longing that sharply pierced her chest, Ada smoothed her face into a smile of benign indifference as she slid the vial from his hand into her own. Her gun, hollow and empty, was still levelled at his head as she gazed at him, a steady and fixed stare. She was too proud to be the one that blinked first.

'Ada, you do know what this is?' Leon asked hesitantly.

Yes. This is goodbye. For now.

She gave a melodic hum and gripped her plunder tightly in her hand.

The silence was ruptured by the rising thunder of the evacuation chopper's motor. Leon span around trying to locate the origin of the sound and when he looked back Ada was already halfway across the platform. She balled her fists and thrust her arms, propelling herself over the railings and into a delirious freefall. As the air welcomed her body, a sudden exhilaration flooded her mind for a fraction of a second and she was sunk into the abyss between asleep and awake, between dreams and reality, where everything was a hell of a lot simpler.

Grabbing the edge of the open hatch, Ada climbed inside and dropped gracefully onto the prickly canvas seat, feeling its metal edge rub the back of her knees. The pilot nodded distantly at her and turned back to his vigil over helicopter's console. She reached behind her and grabbed the key as the copter slowly rose. It would activate the Jet Ski she had placed near the aqueduct just a few yards from here. Leon would know where it was; she knew that for sure. Ada glanced down at the novelty key ring and before she could stop herself she pictured this cream coloured bear with blue ribbons, not dangling from a set of keys, but wrapped in the arms of a child. Her child.

It wasn't real. Why can't you let it go?

Shaking the image free from her head, she crossed her supple legs and leaned over as the chopper rose high above the harbour's platform.

Leon stood at the edge, still gaping at her flamboyant escape.

'Don't worry,' she waved the vial at him playfully, her voice laced with sugar, 'I'll take good care of it.'

He called up to her but his words were sliced in half by the racket of the copter's blades.

Ada felt the body of the aircraft buck beneath her, 'Gotta go. If I were you, I'd get off this island.'

Flicking open her PDA, she activated the detonation sequence. She had an unwavering belief that he'd be able to survive and escape. It's what they both did best after all. Still, she upped the timer on the device from two minutes thirty to a round three.

'Here. Catch!' Ada flung the keys at him and saw him snatch them smoothly out of the air.

As the chopper began to turn away she waved at him and smiled inwardly at his confusion, 'Better get a move on. See you around.'

The black shadow of the helicopter skimmed the surface of the silver water as it flew away. Ignoring the fluttering of her dress as it whipped around her knees, Ada pressed a vial into the snug holding case and closed it with a firm snap. It wasn't the vial Wesker was expecting of course. Saddler's sample was better served elsewhere. The lights at each corner of the case glowed amber for an instant before fading to grey, accepting its phoney cargo. Exhaustion came off her in waves as a full day of pressure evaporated from her body. Her eyelids lowered, swathing her vision with darkness, and her shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh. With skilled proficiency her mind was already anticipating her next move, blocking the pain of her wounds and the sticky feeling of blood, which was not her own, that smeared her pale skin. The full force of her mission stretched almost endlessly beyond her. But this time it was different. Unfathomably different. She could see the murky emptiness, which usually enveloped her thoughts, withering and fading behind her eyelids. She felt stronger than before, lighter, as if a fog had dissipated from around her soul.

Light suddenly flooded the small compartment. The radiant fingers of dawn stretched out from behind a blanket of grey cloud and caressed her face with warmth. She squeezed her eyes shut against the glow and heard the distant laughter of her daughter echoing in her head, she felt the girl's soft skin against her own and deeply inhaled the essence of sunshine. And more than that, she could still taste him. Ada trembled in surprise against the onslaught of each feverish sensation and memory. If you fell asleep and had a dream about the one you loved, but you could still feel him when you awoke, what then? What had it done to her? Was it the idea of him that haunted her, or the man himself? Perhaps she was besotted with both, as each resonated in her consciousness, as real as the other, intertwined and inseparable. Both of them had saved her, had strengthened her and she'd need them for the battle that was just beginning.

Opening her eyes, Ada squinted at the blinding horizon and found that somehow she could finally embrace what Leon had given her. Hope. The strange and troubling and intoxicating hope that someday the final vial will open the final door, which would become her exit, her parting gift, her future. Whatever that future may be. And try as she might, she couldn't shake the feeling that that future would involve him. As the chopper sped through the horizon a small smile curled on Ada's face and she realised that 'someday' now seemed just a little closer.

The End