Стефани Перри - Code Veronica

rough fortress walls. Right before Steve started to pull back on die yoke, to lift the speeding plane up and away, Claire saw the first explosions, the sounds hitting a second later a series of deep, thundering booms that quickly grew distant, dropping off as Steve gently raised them up. As the cargo plane took to the air, giant billows of black smoke rose into the early dawn, casting shadows over the disintegrating compound. Flames were catching everywhere, and though she didn't know the exact layout of what she was looking at, she thought she saw the Ashfords' private home being gutted by fire, an immense orange light rising up behind what was left of the mansion. There were still structures standing, but immense pieces of them were suddenly missing, blown into rubble and dust. Claire took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling knotted muscles begin to unclench. It was all over. Another Umbrella facility lost, because of the scientific integrity they continued to violate, because of a moral vacuum that seemed to be an elemental component of the company's policies. She hoped the tortured, twisted soul of Alfred Ashford had finally found some kind of peace … or whatever it was he truly deserved. "So, where to?" Steve asked casually, and drawn back from her wandering thoughts, Claire turned away from the side window, grinning, ready to kiss the pilot. Steve caught her gaze with his, also grinning and as they looked into each other's eyes, the seconds stretching, it occurred to her for the first time that he wasn't just a kid. No kid would look at her the way he was looking at her now … and in spite of her firm decision not to encourage him, she didn't look away. He was a good-looking guy, definitely, but she'd spent most of the last twelve hours thinking of him as an obnoxious kid brother not exactly easy to get past, even if she wanted to. On the other hand, after what they'd been through together, she also felt very close to him in a way that was solid, strong, an affection that seemed perfectly natural and… Claire broke the eye contact first, looking away. They'd been free and safe for all of a minute and a half; she wanted to digest that for a little while before moving on. Steve returned his attention to the controls, looking a little flushed and there was another thump on the roof, like back in the hanger. "What is that?" Claire asked, looking up as though she actually expected to see something through the metal. "No idea," Steve said, frowning. "There's nothing up there, so…"

CRUUNCH! The plane seemed to bob in the air and Steve hurried to compensate, as Claire instinctively looked behind them. The destructive sound had come from the hold. "The main cargo hatch came open," Steve said, tapping at a small flashing light on the console, punching another button. "I can't get it to close." "I'll check it out," Claire said, and at Steve's unhappy expression, she smiled. "You just keep us in the air, okay? I promise not to jump."

She turned toward the hold, and as soon as Steve looked away, she casually grabbed the rifle hanging off the back of the copilot's chair, the one Alfred had dropped. She still had the semi, but the laser sight on the rifle meant pinpoint accuracy and since she didn't want to shoot the plane full of holes, the .22 was a better choice. There had been a monster or two on the island, and maybe they'd ended up with a stowaway, but she didn't want Steve to worry, or get involved. They both needed him at the controls. Whatever it is, I'll have to take care of it, she thought grimly, reaching for the door handle. Really, she was probably overreacting to some minor malfunction, a loose roof panel and a broken hinge. She opened the door… … and leaped inside, slamming it behind her before Steve could hear the noise, so much for minor… The entire rear of the hold was gone, the hatch torn away, clouds and sky whipping past at incredible speed. Confused, Claire took a single step forward and saw what the problem was. Mr. X, she thought wildly, remembering the monstrous thing in Raccoon, the relentless pursuer in the long, dark coat, but the hulking creature straddling the hydraulic track wasn't the same. It was humanoid, giant-sized and hairless like the X monster, its flesh similar, an almost metallic dark gray but it was also taller and more muscular, built like an eight-foot-tall bodybuilder, its shoulders impossibly broad, its abdomen rippled with muscle. It was sexless, a rounded hump at its groin, and the hands weren't human hands, were far more lethal. Its left fist was a metal-spiked mace bigger than her entire head, its right hand a hybrid of flesh and curving knives, two of them at least a foot long. And it's not wearing a coat, she thought randomly, as the monster turned its cataract-white eyes to look at her before throwing its head back and roaring, an explosive howl of bloodlust and fury. Terrified but determined, Claire raised her suddenly pathetic weapon as the creature started for her, and put the red dot on its right unicolor eye. She squeezed the

trigger… … and heard the dry click of an empty chamber, deafeningly loud even over the raging winds that spun past the damaged plane.

There wasn't a curse word strong enough to accurately express her dismay. Claire instantly dropped the useless weapon and ran, dodging to the right, not wanting to end up trapped in the corner, unable to believe that she hadn't thought to check the goddamn weapon. There were six or seven crates stacked against the wall near the cockpit door but no cover there, on either side; the thing would have her penned in.

Go go go!

As she scurried along the right wall, the lumbering creature slowly turning to follow, she grabbed the semi from under her belt and flicked the safety off by feel, afraid to look away from it. It stumped toward her on tree trunk legs, eerily focused on her every step. The cargo hold wasn't all that big, maybe thirty-five feet long and twelve wide. Too soon, she was at the rear of the plane, icy air suddenly pulling at her, working to suck her out into the clouds. Crouching, trying not to think about a misstep, Claire darted across the open space and reached the other wall, grabbing at a raised ridge of metal with trembling fingers. The creature was still almost twenty feet away. Claire held onto the wall, waiting for it to draw closer before running again. At least it was slow, there was that much, but she had to come up with something, she couldn't keep going around in circles. She was watching the creature, could see it clearly… … but what happened next was like some optical illusion. It dropped its silvery head slightly –

– and was suddenly five feet away, the distance closed in a fraction of a second, and it was bringing its right arm down, parting the air with an audible whoosh, knives flashing… Claire didn't think, she moved, her stomach suddenly in her throat, her own action a blur to herself. For a split second she was only a body, ducking and sprinting… … and then she was on the other side of the plane, all the way up by the stacked crates, looking back as the creature slowly, slowly turned. Aw, shit on this! The plane would survive a few holes. She opened fire, sent eight 9mm rounds in a tight grouping right at the center of its chest and all of them hit. She saw the black-rimmed holes open up near where its heart would be if it was human, no blood but moist, dark tissue was exposed, forming spongy lumps around the wounds. The creature stopped in its tracks and started again in about two seconds, one slow step after another, its focus unchanged. A stab of panic hit her, gotta get out of here it's going to kill me, get Steve, another gun maybe…

No, she couldn't, and it wouldn't help, it would only make things worse. Mr. X had been programmed for a single purpose, to obtain a virus sample; she suspected that this creature was after her specifically, and if she left the hold, the creature would just tear through the hatch, killing her and Steve. At least this way, he might have a chance. And 9mm was the heaviest firepower on board if it could take eight rounds in the chest, another gun wasn't going to make a difference. Try for a head shot, like the one-armed monster. She could try, but she had the feeling that something that didn't bleed probably wouldn't go blind, either. Its eyes were strange, perhaps they weren't even used for sight … and there was also the fact that they were on a moving plane, one that shook and wavered; without a scope, how was she supposed to target, let alone hit? All that passed through her mind in about a second and then she was moving again, edging toward the back of the plane once more afraid to run, afraid to stand still, wondering how long she had before it ran at her again and what she would do then… … and it lowered its head like it had done before, and again, Claire's body reacted, but an idea was forming, too. She pushed away from the wall and ran toward it, angling her path, if this doesn't work I'm dead… … and she felt the chill of its strange flesh as it rocketed past her, was so close that she could smell its rotten meat smell and then they were on opposite ends of the open space and it was slowly, mechanically turning around. It had worked, but barely; if it had been an inch closer, if she'd been a half step slower, it would already be over. Guns didn't work, she couldn't leave, so the creature had to go, but how? The air stream at the hold's open end was strong, but if she could duck past it, no way it would nab the weighty monstrosity … she had to knock it off-balance, maybe bait it to the opening and trip it up somehow, she wasn't strong enough to push it… Think, damnit! It was starting toward her again, one step, two. She looked away long enough to scan the floor near the opening, looking for something it might stumble over, maybe the hydraulic track…