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.Leon yanked theMagnum out and ran for the door, precious secondswasted as he fumbled at the mangled handle.The hall was clear, except for the dead traffic cop onthe floor to his right.Straight ahead was the entranceto the parking garage, and Leon hurried toward it,reminding himself that he wanted to go in easy, thathe didn't want to get shot by a panicked gunman.Take it slow, get a good look before you move,identify yourself clearly.The door, set into the wall to his right, was standingopen and as Leon darted a look into wide and openspace, his body shielded by the concrete-block wall, he saw something that startled him into forgettingabout the shooter.The dog.It's the same goddamn dog.Impossible - but the sprawled, lifeless animal inthe middle of the car-lined chamber looked the same.Even with the barest glimpse he'd had before, theslimy wet demon in canine form that had nearlyscared him into a crash ten miles outside the citycould have come from the same litter.Beneath thesputtering fluorescent strips that lit the cold, oil-stained garage, Leon could see how truly abnormal itwas.There didn't seem to be anything moving, and nosound except for the buzz of lights.Still holding theMagnum ready, Leon stepped into the garage, deter-mined to get a closer look at the creature - and saw asecond one next to a parked squad car, apparently justas dead as the first.Both lay in sticky red pools oftheir own blood, their long, skinned-looking limbssplayed brokenly.Umbrella.The wild animal attacks, the disease.how long has this shit been going on? And how did theymanage to keep it quiet after all those murders?What was even more confusing was why Raccoonwasn't crawling with support services already; Um-brella may have been able to keep their involvementwith the "cannibal" murders silent, but how couldthey keep Raccoon's citizens from calling for helpfrom outside the city?And these dogs, like carbon copies.somethingelse that Umbrella made up in their labs?He took another step toward the fallen dog-things,frowning, not liking the dark conspiracy theories thatwere forming in his thoughts but unable to ignorethem.What he liked even less was the look of the oilstains on the concrete floor; they were rust-coloredand there were too many of the dried splotches forhim to count.He bent down to get a closer look, sointent on putting to rest a sudden terrible suspicionthat he didn't register the shot until he heard the high,singing whine when it blew past his head.Bam!Leon spun left, bringing the Magnum up and shout-ing at the same time."Hold your fire!".and saw the shooter lowering her weapon, awoman in a short red dress and black leggings stand-ing by a van against the far wall.She started walkingtoward him, her slender hips rolling smoothly, herhead high and shoulders back.As if they were at acocktail party. Leon felt a rush of anger, that she could seem socalm after very nearly killing him, but as she gotcloser, he found himself wanting to forgive her.Shewas beautiful, and wore an expression of genuinepleasure at seeing him; a welcome sight after so muchdeath."Sorry about that," she said."When I saw theuniform, I thought you were another zombie."She was Asian-American, fine-boned but tall, hershort hair a thick and glossy black.Her deep, satinyvoice was almost a purr, a strange contrast to the wayshe looked at him.The slight smile she wore didn'tseem to touch her almond-shaped eyes, which werescrutinizing him carefully."Who are you?" Leon asked."Ada Wong." That throaty purr again.She tiltedher head, still smiling."I'm Leon Kennedy," he said reflexively, not surewhat to ask or where to start."I.what are you doingdown here?"Ada nodded toward the van behind her, an RPDtransport wagon that was blocking the holding cellarea."I came to Raccoon looking for a man, areporter named Bertolucci; I have reason to think thathe's in one of the cells, and I think he might be able tohelp me find my boyfriend."Her smile faded, her sharp, almost electric gazemeeting his."And I think he knows all aboutwhat happened here.Would you help me move thevan?"If there was a reporter locked up on the other sideof the garage wall who could tell them anything at all,Leon was eager to meet him.He wasn't sure what tomake of Ada's story, but couldn't imagine why shewould lie about anything.The station wasn't safe, andshe was looking for survivors, just as he was."Yeah, okay," he said, feeling caught off guard byher smoothly direct manner.It felt like she had takencontrol of their meeting, some subtle but deliberatemanipulation that had put her in charge and fromthe casual way she turned and walked back to the van,as if there was no question that he would follow, hethought she knew it.Don't be paranoid; strong women do exist.And themore people we can find, the more help I can get to lookfor Claire.Maybe it was time to stop making plans, and justtry to keep up.Leon bolstered the Magnum and wentafter her, hoping that the reporter was where Adathought he was and that things would start makingsense, sooner rather than later. THIRTEENSHERRY BIRKIN WAS GONE, AND CLAIREcouldn't fit herself into the ventilation duct to goafter her.Whatever or whoever had screamed andscared the little girl so badly hadn't put in anappearance, but Sherry was history, maybe stillcrawling frantically through some dark and dustytunnel.She had apparently been hiding by the ductfor a while; there were empty candy-bar wrappersand a musty old blanket stuffed in the opening, thepathetic little hideaway tucked behind three standingsuits of armor.Once she'd realized that Sherry wasn't comingback, Claire had hurried back to Irons's office, hopingthat he might be able to tell her where the duct let out,but Irons was gone, along with the body of themayor's daughter.Claire stood in the office, watched over by thedumb glass eyes of the morbid decor, and felt reallyuncertain for the first time since she'd hit town.She'dstarted out to find Chris, a goal that had expanded toinclude worries about zombie dodging, hooking upwith Leon, and avoiding creepy Chief Irons, prettymuch in that order.But in the few moments betweenmeeting the little girl and that strange, howlingscream, her priorities had shifted dramatically.Achild was caught up in this nightmare, a sweet, littlekid who believed that there was a monster stalkingher.Maybe there is.If I can accept that Raccoon's gotzombies, why not monsters? Hell, why not vampires orkiller robots?She wanted to find Sherry, and she didn't knowhow to start.She wanted her big brother, but was justas clueless as to where he might be - and she hadbegun to wonder if he knew anything about what hadhappened to Raccoon.The last time she'd talked to him, he'd avoided herquestions about why the S.T.A.R.S.had been sus-pended, insisting that it wasn't anything to worryabout - that he and the team had run into somepolitical trouble at the office and it was all going to besorted out.She was used to his protectiveness, butthinking back, hadn't he seemed overly evasive? Andthe S.T.A.R.S [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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