Apocalypse - Keith R. A. DeCandido [25]
Right now, the scientist was regarding Cain with an annoyed expression.
“Dr. Ashford.”
“What was all the shooting?”
“Nothing the Science Division need concern itself about. Shouldn’t you be on the chopper?”
“I’m not going.”
Cain tried not to let his own annoyance show. This, he didn’t need. He looked over at the SUVs parked nearby—one of which was conspicuous by its absence.
“Doctor, I was instructed to get you and the other scientists out of the hot zone. You’re too important to Umbrella to be put at risk.”
“I’m not leaving, not till I have my daughter.”
So there it was. As Cain had suspected when Stein and whichever of the Friedberger brothers—Cain could never keep them straight—had failed to arrive with Angie Ashford, the crippled man’s daughter was still inside Raccoon City.
Which meant she was dead.
But try explaining that to a father.
“I’m sorry, truly, but the city is sealed. Even if she is still alive, I couldn’t let her out. Not now—the risk of infection is too great. You must understand.”
“I don’t understand how any of this has happened. How could there be an outbreak?”
Cain shook his head. “I don’t know.”
That much was the truth. The only things they’d been able to determine for sure were when the T-virus was released into the Hive, and that Alice Abernathy was in the mansion taking a shower when it happened. They only knew that much because the mansion security cameras had managed to escape the catastrophic damage to the Red Queen, and so were recoverable.
All Abernathy’s innocence did was raise more questions.
Cain looked over to see that everyone had boarded the chopper except for Ashford.
“There’s really nothing you can do here, Doctor.”
“I’m staying.”
An urge to simply pick Ashford up and put him on the chopper nearly overwhelmed Cain, but he suppressed it. If he did that, and Ashford reported back that it had happened—which he most assuredly would—Cain’s job wouldn’t be worth a plugged nickel.
If Ashford wanted to stay, he was going to stay. But Cain wasn’t about to let him run loose.
He signaled the chopper pilot to take off, then called Giddings over.
“Yes, sir?”
“Take Dr. Ashford to Work Area D.” That was one of the tents. It included a work space, an Umbrella computer that was hooked up to the company satellite, a bunk, and a bookshelf. It would allow the doctor to keep himself busy, maybe even get some work done, while futilely waiting for his daughter to return to him. “Keep him secure there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Giddings moved behind Ashford and wheeled his chair into the tent in question. Moments later, he came back out, sealed the tent, then called over one of the commandos, a recent recruit named Noyce.
“Watch him,” Giddings said. “He’s not to leave.”
“Sir,” Noyce said smartly.
Cain nodded in affirmation.
Then he moved to the command center they’d set up behind the copter pad. They were missing plenty of people in Raccoon City; after losing One and his team, Ward and his team, and about five hundred employees, compounding it with two squads going missing was starting to get irritating.
It was going to cost Umbrella some serious money to cover this up.
Twelve
The city looked different to Alice Abernathy—beyond the obvious.
Colors were sharper. Details were easier to make out. Shapes were more distinct.
And she could see farther than before, as well.
The bastards had done something to her.
Sometime between when they gave her the sedative at the mansion and when she woke up in the hospital, they had done something to her.
She didn’t know what, but it had changed her.
Knowing Umbrella, it couldn’t be anything good.
As she walked the streets, she saw very few people. Some were alive—easy to pick out, they were the ones who were screaming and scared out of their minds—some were walking corpses.
Sometimes she saw one type grappling with the other. If they were at close quarters, Alice would yell at the living one to break the dead one’s neck or, if armed, to aim for the head.
If they