Apocalypse - Keith R. A. DeCandido [73]
Soon, Cain realized that he didn’t have a chance. There were hundreds of them, and only one of him. This wasn’t the desert; he couldn’t count on the rest of his platoon—or reinforcements.
He was alone.
And he was going to die.
If that was the case, then he was at least going to do it on his own terms.
He put the muzzle of the Glock to his head.
Pulled the trigger.
It dry-clicked.
Out of ammo.
Then the corpse of Dr. Charles Ashford, complete with gaping bullet wound, grabbed him and bit him on the neck.
Timothy Cain screamed.
Others grabbed him and bit him, tearing the flesh loose from his body with their blackened teeth.
It took Cain a long time to die, and to learn just how cheap his own life had become.
Thirty-One
Alice had never before enjoyed watching a person die.
But she took great glee in watching as a horde of undead swarmed over Major Cain and ate him alive.
Of all the things that Umbrella—that Cain—had done to her, this was probably the worst: they’d turned her into someone who could take joy from watching a person die horribly.
The helicopter took off, the pilot having been convinced of the urgency of getting the fuck out of Raccoon before they all died.
Alice, her strength spent, collapsed.
The rotor from the Darkwing that Nemesis—that Matt—had blown up had impaled her in the chest. She was lucky to be alive.
Or not, as the case might be.
Matt himself appeared to have been buried beneath the fiery remains of the stealth copter. Even if he was still alive, there was no way they could have gotten him out in time.
He was going to die when the missiles hit.
As she collapsed to the deck of the C89, she saw the contrails of the missiles as they came closer and closer to the city.
She hoped the C89 was faster than it looked.
Matt deserved better than this.
Hell, they all did, but Matt more than all of them. Except maybe Lisa, who at least had died quickly. Yes, she was then reanimated by the T-virus, but Alice had been able to do her the service of killing her quickly after that.
God. A service.
But all Matt had wanted to do was stop a corporation that had been reckless and illegal at best, murderous at worst.
She clambered farther inside the cargo hold, cursing Spence’s name. If he had only waited one more day, Lisa would have given Matt the evidence of the T-virus, Matt would have leaked it to the press, and maybe the Hive would’ve been shut down.
And Raccoon City wouldn’t be a ghost town.
It was only a pity she couldn’t kill Spence a second time. Or a third.
The blood was still pouring from the wound she’d taken. Had she been ordinary, she’d already be dead, but even with her extraordinary new abilities, she didn’t think she was going to last long.
She looked up to see Angie in one of the copter’s seats.
Somehow, she managed a smile. “Buckle up, honey.”
Angie looked scared to death but seemed to be holding up, despite everything. Alice wished she had the girl’s courage.
“Are you going to be all right?” the child asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Alice could hear her own heartbeat.
It was fading.
The C89 had gotten beyond the city limits, but they were still a lot closer than Alice would have liked.
Carlos yelled out, “Hang on to something!”
Then she heard it.
The explosion was the loudest thing she’d ever heard.
It was the hottest thing she’d ever felt.
The C89 started tumbling, buffeted by the shock wave of the explosion.
Raccoon City, she knew, was now dead.
No, it was already dead. It had been dead from the moment Cain—that fool, that asshole, that fuckup—had ordered the Hive reopened. All the missiles did was perform the cremation.
Valentine cried, “We’re going down!”
The copter tumbled through the air. Alice felt nauseated.
Then she saw a piece of the C89 rip off and fall toward Angie.
It was going