Sherry was scared, but mr. x was dead and he must have been the monster all along, not the one at the station but the real monster, the one that had wanted to rip her apart all along…… but she didn't have time to think about it as Claire sprinted, jerking her along back the way they'd come, through the machine room, through the hall with the crawl space and around a corner…… and Sherry screamed as a zombie reeled toward them, a dead white creature made of dusty bone, and Claire raised her gun and shot…… bang, and the dry white head caved in, the moaning dead creature crumpled to the floor, and then Claire was dragging her over the body and running for the door at the end of the hall. It was an elevator, and Sherry collapsed against one wall after Claire pulled her inside, trying to catch her breath as Claire punched the controls. After the speed of their run from Mr. X, the elevator's descent was a crawl, a softly humming crawl. "We're gonna make it," Claire gasped, "just a little longer."
      Sherry nodded, her heart pounding even harder as the intercom voice told them that they had four minutes left to be safe.
      Leon felt like he didn't know how to stand up and walk away. The image of her composed, beautiful face in the second before she'd let go… she's gone. Ada's dead.
      He reached for the Beretta, fresh grief washing over him as he picked it up, the weapon still warm from her touch – and it was too light, too light by half because it wasn't loaded. There wasn't even a clip. She'd never meant to hurt him; she'd lied, she'd lied all along, but she'd never meant to hurt him at all.
      "… are four minutes to reach minimum safe dis-tance. All remaining personnel should evacuate im-mediately. Please report to the bottom platform…"
      Four minutes. He had four minutes to get far enough away to fulfill Ada's last request. He stood up and turned for the door and stopped, reaching into his pocket, pulling out the tiny glass tube full of purple fluid. He knew he didn't have time to spare, but it only took a second to pull his arm back and throw the sample as hard as he could, wanting it as far away from him as possible.
      If the laboratory responsible for so much death was
      going to burn, let the G-Virus burn with it.
      "Yes!"
 
      The elevator door opened and there was a train, a secret subway train in shining silver. It was silent and dark, not the powered-up, thrumming machine that Claire had hoped to see, but it was still the most beautiful escape vehicle that she'd ever laid eyes on, hands down. Sherry holding on to her arm, they ran to the door at the front of the three-car subway, the bleating alarms still sounding, echoing through the concrete tunnel. The woman's bland voice, the voice that Claire had started to hate long moments ago, in– formed them that they had three minutes to get to the minimum safe distance. They hurried aboard, Claire noticing and not car– ing that there weren't any seats, just a wide, empty space for the passengers to stand in. The control booth was to the left. "Let's get this show on the road," Claire said, and the bright and radiant look of hope on Sherry's dirty, tired face made Claire's heart break, just a little.
      Oh, baby…
      Claire looked quickly away, hopping up the steps to the control room, making a silent promise to herself that if the train didn't work, she'd carry Sherry through the tunnel herself. Whatever it took to see that the fragile hope in her eyes wasn't broken. * * * The code and the verification disk he'd found in the operating room opened the door just as Ada had said, the broad hatch opening into a short hall. With three minutes left, Leon dashed down the cold corridor, through another overwide door, a biohazard symbol emblazoned across the front, and found himself in the cargo room. He didn't have time to stop and get a good look, his focus on getting to the elevator before the recording told him he couldn't possibly get out of the facility alive. Leon ran to the back of the wide, strangely red-tinted room, found the controls for the large warehouse-type elevator, and slapped the button for down, ready to jump in and go…… and nothing happened, except that a row of tiny lights… perhaps twenty tiny lights over the elevator door started to flash in descending order. Slowly. Leon reached forward and slapped the button again, feeling something like numb disbelief as the elevator crept down, pausing for what seemed like minutes between floors, as the alarms blared and the countdown to the lab's destruction ticked closer and closer to the end. "Jesus!" He turned around, feeling like he'd scream if he had to wait much longer…… and for the first time, got a clear look at the room he was in. The two tall, wide shelves that ran the length of the chamber held a very specific kind of "cargo" and although the half-dozen giant glass containers that lined each shelf held nothing but clear red fluid, Leon felt a chill just looking at them. Each cylinder was large enough to hold a full-grown man, and it made him wonder what they'd been built for. Doesn't matter, they're gonna be blown to shit in a matter of minutes, and so am I if this goddamn thing doesn't hurry UP… He turned back to the elevator, almost glad to be angry, frustrated, to have something to feel besides loss…… and the ceiling over the elevator started to shake and rattle. Leon backed away, pointing his Mag– num at the solid metal ceiling panel as it crashed down and out…… and the monster from the transport lift landed in front of him, the same demonic creature that had hurt Ada, that should have killed him…
      Birkin?
      … and from the way it threw back its strange head and howled, the vicious, feral sound drowning out the buzz of the alarms, he could tell it had come to finish the job.
      The subway was ready, it was powered up and ready to go – except it seemed that the tunnel gate release had malfunctioned; a console full of green lights, and a single red dot that insisted the gate needed to be opened manually. Two minutes to safe minimum distance.
      Won't make it, we'll never make it. "Stay here," Claire said, and went outside to find
      the release, praying that it was nothing. * * * Leon turned and ran as the monster started walking toward him, each powerful stride thundering through the chamber, the echoes of its terrible shriek still spinning through the room.
      Think!
      The powerful shotgun hadn't been enough, he had to hit it someplace vulnerable, the eyes, use the Magnum… Leon was back at the door. He spun and fired, aiming the Magnum at the creature's face…… except that the face was changing again, the jaw dropping, falling away as it screamed. Great jagged spikes of tooth or claw slid out from what was left of the mouth, from out of the top of its pulsating chest and as another scream burst out of its mutating throat Leon saw two new arms unfurl from its sides. The limbs snapped into place, elbows locking, thick worms of taloned fingers growing from the tips. Bam-bam-bam! The shots grouped tight, blowing into the thin-stretched skin over its slitted left eye. The monster roared, this time in pain, and Leon saw shards of bone and pus-purple fluid splatter out, a small stream of dark blood obscuring the yellow ball of its eye. It shook its head back and forth, flinging more liquid, squatting down on its haunches like a mutant frog and leapt into the air, springing up and right, landing on one of the seven-foot-high shelves with an animal grunt.
      Oh shit, how'd it do that.
      He couldn't see its eyes, couldn't see anything but its back as it slumped down, but it was changing again, he could hear the wet snapping sounds and see the knobs of spine rising up through the purpled flesh of its back. He didn't want to see what it was becoming, but the elevator hadn't landed yet, and he had two goddamn minutes. Leon grabbed another clip and slapped it home, then fired at what he could see – a shape with six legs, a shape that no longer looked like anything human. The shot hit one of its muscular shoulders, and the creature jumped. Like some wild, spidering beast it leapt back to the floor, landing a few feet in front of him. Its chest had become a wall of strange teeth, of spikes that opened and closed as it panted – and when it screamed again, the sound was a demon cry, like nothing he'd ever heard, like the dying screams of a thousand damned souls.
      Leon got two shots off into the cluster of moving teeth and stumbled away, and beneath the constant blare of the sirens, he heard the bright and cheery ping of the elevator's arrival.
      Claire ran to the front of the train, looking at the series of levers and switches set into the tunnel wall, frowning, finding the red and white handle in less than ten seconds and slamming it down. She heard the grating of metal somewhere in front of the train and turned to run back to the door……when she heard metal again – the ripping, tear– ing sounds of steel being bent and hammered out of shape, coming from somewhere behind the subway, from somewhere in the back of the tunnel…
      No, no way.
      She stared toward the back of the train, past the metal bars of a closed gate that led back into shad– ows and heard a sound like bone on concrete, a grinding heavy noise that repeated, and again.
      Footsteps.
      Claire ran for the door, knowing that it couldn't be X, absolutely could not – he was melted, gone, and they didn't have the G-Virus anymore…… and she caught a glimpse of movement past the bars of shadow some thirty feet away. A glimpse of something tall, wisps of smoke curling through the darkness – and the bitter, choking stench of some– thing burned. It stepped out of shadow, stepped toward the back of the train car, raising charred, massive fists… BAM!… and the car actually rocked, as Claire realized that it was Mr. X, or what was left of him and that he was surely a demon straight from hell. She'd combined the clips on their elevator ride; eleven rounds left; there was no way it would be enough, but it was all they had. Claire raised Irons's gun, wondering if this was the end. Leon ran, around the shelf to his right, heading back for the elevator, and there were galloping, thun-dering footsteps right behind, he couldn't stop. Another turn, back through the middle of the room…… and he was hit in the back, propelled forward and down as the beast rammed him, hot, rubbery flesh slamming him into the floor. Leon rolled and it was on top of him, its dripping teeth poised to drive through his skull, its thick legs pinning him down. The tumor like an eye was still there, opening out of the shoulder, looking at him and he jammed the barrel of the weapon against its drooling chin and pulled the trigger, screaming, emptying the heavy rounds into its thrashing head. The beast shrieked, flailing, falling sideways off Leon. In a flash, he was up and running, straight for the open elevator. The enormous, freakish animal was still howling as Leon sprinted into the lift and turned, hitting the control marked down…… and saw the beast shuddering, changing, scream– ing, and spitting chunks of bone and flesh and blood as it also turned and started for the elevator. It picked up speed with each staggering step, the door closing slowly, the terrible creature almost flying now…… and Leon had the shotgun in his hands, pumped a shot and squeezed. The blast hit its barrel chest, knocking it back…… and the door closed, Leon was going down, and there was only one minute left.

      BAM!
      Sherry felt the train rock violently all around her.
      Claire!
      She ran to the door, remembering that Claire said not to leave and not caring; she didn't know what it was or what she could do to help, but she couldn't just stand there… BAM!… and the car shifted again, another loud, banging crash blasting through the stale air, the floor trem– bling beneath her feet. Sherry reached the door and hit the open switch, her heart hammering, sweat dribbling through the dirt on her face. The door slid open and there was Claire, pointing her gun at something Sherry couldn't see, something at the back of the car. Claire's gaze flickered to her, and her shouted words quaked with fear and panic.
      "Don't come out! Shut the door!"
      Sherry reached for the controls and hesitated, terri– fied for Claire, wanting to see what it was -
      – quick look -
      –and she darted her head out, just for a second, searching for the source of Claire's fear, for whatever was slamming into the train car. A smell like chemi– cals and burnt meat had filled the dimly lit platform, coming from… Sherry screamed when she saw it, when she saw the tattered, charred monster that was rocking the sub– way, just past a wall of metal bars. She saw its giant fist pound the steel wall of the train, but it was the monster's face that she couldn't look away from.
      Mr.X.
      The skin was burnt away from his face, from his whole body. Smoke drifted up from the blackened, melted lump of his skull, but the eyes were still alive – red and black and steaming with acrid smoke, but still very much alive. "Sherry! Do it, now!" Claire screamed, not taking her gaze from the smoking monster, from its terrible, giant body coated with red, metallic muscle, as red and burnt as its awful eyes. Sherry hit the controls, the door closing as Claire started to fire. The elevator did go down, though not as Leon had expected, and not nearly as fast as he needed it to go. The wide platform slipped down an angled tunnel, like a slide, neon gridwork on black walls humming past. Slowly.
      "… now forty seconds to reach minimum safe distance." "Go go go…" Leon breathed, every ache and pain in his body forgotten in the rising dread that beat at his brain. The voice had stopped telling him to report to the bottom platform, now only making announce– ments in ten-second increments. As much as he loathed the repeated instructions, it was much worse not hearing them; the silences between the statements were telling him not to bother trying.
      To make it this far and then die because of a slow elevator… He couldn't accept that. He'd been through too much. The car crash, Claire, the running and the monsters and Ada and Birkin – he had to make it, or it was all for nothing. There didn't seem to be a real floor beneath the descending platform, or he would've tried it on foot, but the lift seemed to be lowering by grooves cut into either side of the darkness, by some mecha– nism that he couldn't begin to guess at.
      "… twenty seconds to reach…"
 
      Leon started to shake, the tension running through his muscles, tightening them, making it hard to breathe. What was safe distance? When that cool, inhuman voice reached zero, how long before the explosion? Full throttle, she said full throttle…
      The train would have to be fast. And he had ten seconds left to get to it, as the strange elevator continued its smooth, unhurried trek down into the dark.
      The door slid shut and Sherry was safe. For the moment. Claire's thoughts had kicked into overdrive, spinning through her limited options in a flash.
      Can't let him knock it off the tracks…
      She knew she couldn't hope to injure the creature, but she might be able to distract it long enough for them to get away. She wished she'd bothered to show Sherry the simple controls for the train, wished that the train was already moving, taking Sherry to safety -
      – but I didn't and we have to go NOW.
      The recorded message was counting down the final ten seconds to reach a safe distance. As the smoking remains of Mr. X dealt another hammering blow to the dented subway wall, Claire aimed for its mutant head and fired. Five shots, four of them smacking into the bizarre material that made up its flesh, about where a hu– man's ear would be. The fifth went wide, and as the explosive thunder echoed through the shadows of the chill platform, the thing that she'd dubbed Mr. X turned slowly toward her.
      Now what?
      The recorded female voice distracted her for a split– second, as Mr. X took a single step toward her, a lumbering, monstrous step that pulled it out of the shadows.
      "… three. Two. One. Safe distance minimum now required. Self-destruct will occur in five minutes. There are now five minutes until detonation."
      The alarms still blared, but at least the voice had shut up. She wouldn't have noticed in any case, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on the creature. It was hideous, all the more so for its still humanoid shape, like a mockery of reality, of sanity. In spite of the charred, smoking patches that covered most of its body, its unnatural flesh hadn't lost its elasticity; the reddish matter beneath the burns flexed and contracted like real muscle. It looked like a skinned giant that had crawled from beneath a burning building – and if it had suffered from its molten metal bath, she couldn't see it. Another mighty step, and the arms rose, the barred gate was ripped down, the iron bars were crashing to the concrete.
      Slow at least, at least there's still that…
      It was the only thing she had going for her. Claire sprinted for the subway door, still afraid, but the smoking monster was slow, powerful but unable to really move…… and suddenly, Mr. X wasn't just walking anymore. The creature bent at the waist, bent its knees and pushed off the ground in a dynamic lunge that tore gouges in the concrete, its deformed feet propelling it toward her at a full run. Claire didn't think. She dodged right and took off past the hunched, loping monster, running as fast as she could. It almost got her anyway, its reflexes faster than fast – as if losing its facade of skin had freed it somehow, the liauid metal oaring it down to its core strength. As she leapt over the broken gate and into the shadows, she heard the screech of not-flesh fingers raking across the cement, saw that Mr. X had brought one mighty arm up, slashing through the air where she'd been only a second before. It meant to disem– bowel her -
      – but why, no G-Virus, no reason -
      Claire ran deeper into the echoing darkness as the intercom system calmly informed her that they had four minutes left.
      "There are now four minutes until detonation…" Shit shit shit!
      Just when he thought he might have a stroke from the frustration, the elevator had finally stopped. Leon jerked at the handle to a thick metal door, tensing himself to run…… and the door opened into one wall of a passage, a sterile concrete corridor lit by flickering overhead bars. And there were no signs telling him which way to go.
      Left or right?
      The few seconds that he hesitated could cost him his life – he still had any chance at all. He'd heard once that when faced with a choice, most people instinctively turned in the direction of their dominant hand. With the crappy luck he'd had throughout his long, long night in Raccoon, he de-cided to go the other way. Left. Leon ran, his boots pounding the floor, won-dering if he should even bother. * * * Not far past the broken gate, Claire saw a walkway that crossed over the train, the stairs hidden by deep shadow…… and she heard the pounding of Mr. X behind as it started after her, each running step a violent slap of mutant flesh against cement. The terror drove her on, her feet hardly touching the ground, not caring if she ran head-on into a wall in the deepening dark. Maybe that would be best, it was tremendously powerful, it was fast, it was impossible to kill – she didn't stand a chance if it caught her…… and the steps were getting louder, faster, she heard the ripping scrape of its clawed fingers plowing up concrete. She had maybe a second before that hand tore into her…… and she dodged right again, throwing herself into a well of darkness just past the stairs. Mr. X flew past, a mammoth, hulking blur, and she actually felt the wind from his moving hand whisper against her leg as she hit the cold floor. Sharp pain shot up her arm, her elbow cracking hard against the cement. She ignored it, jumping to her feet, searching for the monster in the dark.
      Can it see, does it see me?
      Her hand found an angled wall to the right, cement against her back and on the left. She was in the space beneath the stairs, and she had no idea where the impossibly silent X was; the shadows wouldn't help her if it could see in the dark. She ran her hands over the walls, found a switch and punched it. The texture of shadow changed as dim light filtered down from somewhere above and she saw the monster less than fifty feet away just as it turned, its thick red gaze scanning evenly across the deserted platform…… and finding her. Marking her. The only sound was a soft crackling coming from its still-smoking flesh – until it took a step for the stairwell, and cement crunched beneath one purpled leg.
      Six or seven shots left, get the eyes…
      Claire stepped quickly out of the shadows and raised Irons's gun, squeezing the trigger, backing toward the stairs. Bam-bam-bam…… and X was positioning itself for another attack, the bullets smashing into its melted face, two of them ricocheting from the matter of its skull as it aligned to her position… bam-bam… She was at the stairs, sidling up a step, the rounds useless, Mr. X starting its lurching run. It would be on her before she could turn, before she could get up the steps.
      – I'll die – but at least I'll hurt it first -
      Mr. X took one – two powerful strides, halving the distance between them as Claire aimed, determined to make the last shots count. She would die, and her only regret was for Sherry, her only wish that she would be able to incapacitate the nightmare X before it killed her.
      She fired, and the monster's left eye exploded, a burst of inky fluid splattering its wretched, inhuman face.
      Yes!
      Mr. X veered to its right, not stopping but not coming straight at her anymore – it would still hit the base of the stairs -too close! – she had to try for the other eye and she had about two seconds left… Claire aimed, found her mark, and…… click!…… there were no bullets left, and the monster was slamming into the base of the steps, the smell of roasted meat washing over her as it raised its giant hand up, and its giant, terrible body was all she could see. Claire rolled down the concrete stairs, hunching herself into a ball and screamed as Mr. X's ragged clawed fingers raked across her left thigh, and a distant voice told her that they had three minutes left.

      He'd gone the wrong way. twists and turns in the cold and empty hall had led him to a storage room – a dead end.
      "There are now three minutes until detonation."
      Leon turned back the way he'd come, and with what felt like the very last of his strength, forced himself into a stumbling run. He was too exhausted to feel disappointed, to worry about his impending death, to wish that things were different; it took all of his energy just to keep moving. He'd make it or he wouldn't; either way, he didn't think he'd be surprised.