Apocalypse - Keith R. A. DeCandido [66]
“Actually,” Carlos said, “four of them. I don’t see anyone, but I’m sure there’s a sniper on the roof. There always is.”
“What-the-fuck-ever, dog—let’s kick some ass.”
“Down, boy,” Valentine said to Wayne, then looked up at Carlos. “How are they armed?”
“MP5Ks.”
“Probably with a full load of ammo. We’ve got a bunch of popguns by comparison, and we’re all starting to run low. We’ll have our heads handed to us.”
“I’ll take care of them,” Alice said.
“Oh, you will, will you?”
Valentine sounded skeptical. Even after the church and the school, she didn’t truly appreciate how good Alice was.
“Yes, I will. There won’t be a shot fired.”
In fact, Alice wasn’t entirely sure she herself appreciated how good she was.
Whatever it was Umbrella had done unto her, though, she was about to do it right back unto their miserable faces.
Minutes later, Alice had worked her way onto what remained of the City Hall roof. As Carlos had predicted, there was a sniper posted there, complete with a full set of rappelling gear, just in case he needed to make a hasty exit to the street. All standard.
And about to become exceedingly useful.
The first thing she did was take out the sniper. This proved wise, as the sniper was setting up a head shot on Carlos, who was approaching the square with Valentine. Wayne had been left behind to guard Angie until they gave the signal. Wayne had objected to this part of the plan at great length, right up until Valentine described, in graphic detail, what she would do to his spleen if he didn’t shut up and do what they said.
Alice was really starting to like Jill Valentine.
Once the sniper was disposed of, Alice unspooled the cable and dropped it down into the square, between the C89 and the three guards.
The guards didn’t notice—their attention was, understandably, focused outward. That was where the true danger lay, after all—from the legions of undead that could come shuffling toward them, and might not be stopped by the PlastiGlas barrier.
Alice attached a hook to the cable, then attached the hook to her coat. Leaving her weapons holstered, she slid down the cable, stopping herself just short of the square.
The guards turned around at the zipperlike sound of the steel hook sliding along the metallic cable, but before they had a chance to react, Alice went at them.
First, she snapped a guard’s neck.
Then she drove the heel of her left hand into the nose of the second one, breaking it and sending shards of cartilage and bone into his brain, killing him instantly.
Finally, she smashed the third one’s throat with her right hand.
The third one died before the first one even had a chance to hit the ground.
By the time the third one hit the ground, Carlos and Valentine had arrived.
After squeezing between two of the PlastiGlas sheets, Carlos suddenly whipped out his combat knife and threw it past Alice.
Whirling around, Alice saw that the second guard wasn’t as dead as he was supposed to be. He hadn’t been made undead—his eyes were clear, and he said, “Fuck!” when Carlos’s knife hit his chest—but apparently the shards of skull hadn’t penetrated his brain as deeply as she’d thought.
“Missed one,” Carlos said with a smile.
Shrugging, Alice said, “Had to leave something for you to do.”
Valentine rolled her eyes. “You two can pull your pants down and compare sizes later.” Sticking her pinky fingers into her mouth, she whistled.
Alice winced. The piercing noise of the whistle sliced through her now-ultra-sensitive ears.
Seconds later, Wayne and Angie came running.
“Nice work,” Wayne said.
“Let’s go,” Alice said quickly. She didn’t want Angie to linger around dead bodies any more than she had to.
Any more than she already had.
They entered the helicopter’s cargo area, and Alice found herself immediately overwhelmed by a feeling of déjà vu.
Sitting in the center of the cargo area were two large diagnostic beds.
One was a dead ringer for the one in which she’d woken up at Raccoon City Hospital.
The other looked like the first one, only with a pituitary