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As they walked through the dining hall toward the front door, Matt noticed that Alice was starting to stumble.

By the time they reached the vestibule outside the door, she collapsed in a heap, dropping the case next to her.

Matt knelt down next to her, seeing that sobs were now wracking her body.

"I failed," she said, her voice catching. "All of them. I failed them."

Survivor's guilt. Matt knew way too much about that—hell, he was experiencing it himself. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his sister, face twisted, trying to bite his neck. You want to talk failure…

But that way lay madness.

"Listen," he said firmly, "there was nothing you could have done. The corporation is to blame here, not you." He indicated the case. "And we finally have the proof. That means Umbrella can't get awa—"

He cut himself off as a throb of pain shot through his left arm.

Shaking his head, he went on. "Get away with this. We can—"

The pain returned, much more than a throb this time, and focused on the three wounds the eyeless monster had given him on the train. At the same time, he lost all feeling in his arm below those wounds.

"What is it?" Alice asked.

A scream suddenly ripped from his mouth as the pain coursed throughout his body, and he fell onto his back.

"You're infected. You'll be okay—I'm not losing you."

Matt barely heard Alice's words. He lay on the floor, twitching, writhing from the agony that flared through every joint, every muscle, every cell, and he screamed and screamed and screamed…

Then everything went white…

Twenty-Eight

JUST AS ALICE WAS ABOUT TO MINISTER TO Matt, the door opened.

Shielding her eyes from the blinding white light, she saw at least half-a-dozen people in Hazmat suits.

"What's happening? What're you doing?"

One of them reached for her, while two others knelt down beside Matt.

"Stop!"

She fought off the one by her with a few well-placed punches. Then three more tried to grab her, even as others picked Matt up and carried him out into the hall.

It took her all of four seconds to subdue the three trying to hold her. Hell, after what she'd just faced, three bozos in Hazmat suits were not going to be a challenge for her.

"Matt!"

The hall had been converted into a sterile zone of some kind, with some stuff that looked like hospital equipment, and a single examination table.

Several of the Hazmat-suited people were laying Matt on that table.

Small tentacles started to grow out of the three wounds on Matt's arm.

One of the Hazmats spoke. "He's mutating. I want him in the Nemesis Program."

Alice ran to grab Matt, but two more Hazmats grabbed her first, even as they strapped down Matt and started to wheel him outside.

Shattering the faceplate of one Hazmat with a single punch, and kicking another in the nuts, she again screamed, "Matt!"

For every two Hazmats she knocked down, though, three more seemed to take their place.

And she honestly was exhausted, mentally and physically. Even she had her limits, and she had finally reached them.

She felt a needle puncturing her thigh. Kicking with that leg, she cracked another faceplate, but even as she did so, her limbs stopped responding to her brain's commands.

Falling to the floor, a gray haze coming over her vision, she heard a voice that was maddeningly familiar.

"I want her quarantined. Close observation, and a full series of blood tests. Let's see if she's infected. Take her to the Raccoon City facility, then assemble a team. We're reopening the Hive. I want to know what went on down there."

As she faded into oblivion, Alice finally recognized who it was talking.

Major Timothy "Able" Cain.

Vice President in Charge of Operations.

Her boss.

"Just do it."

Then everything went white.

For a while.

When Alice woke up, she was, once again, naked.

This time, though, instead of a shower curtain, she was dressed in a hospital gown that barely covered her.

And instead of a running shower, she was being pelted with something else.

No, not pelted. Attached.

Wires. They'd put wires