Resident Evil_ Extinction - Keith R. A. DeCandido [105]
No room to live.
When One was confronted with the laser grid, he stood and took it, allowing himself only one final muttered curse before he died. But he knew he had no choice, and he faced it head-on.
When Isaacs was confronted with the laser grid, he screamed, “Nooooo!” in a tone that sounded much whinier than his earlier pronouncements of superiority.
The laser sliced through him, literally cubing him.
It moved inexorably on toward Alice.
She was ready to die.
Then she felt it.
Another mind. But the same mind, somehow. Images flooded her brain, and she realized that she was being telepathically contacted by the clone that she thought had died in her arms in Isaacs’s lab.
The clone was standing at Isaacs’s computer workstation and inputting commands into a keyboard. In front of her, the screen displayed the words LASER SYSTEM DEACTIVATED.
In front of her, the laser grid fizzled out, and the lights in the room returned to normal.
Speaking simultaneously, both Alices said, “Yeah, you’re the future, all right.”
The clone asked, So what happens now? Is it over?
Alice thought about the dozens, if not hundreds, of clones Isaacs had created in his desire to turn himself into the future.
The AI had pointed her the way to a cure. Now she also had a way to exact revenge.
No, she said to her sister, it’s only just begun.
EPILOGUE
Somewhere over Canada, Claire Redfield flew an Umbrella Corporation helicopter with increasing confidence. The snowcapped Rocky Mountains below her, she was heading straight for what she hoped was a haven.
Next to her, Kmart was reading through the journal.
Looking up, Claire saw the picture of Chris. She had no idea if her brother was still alive, but now she had something better than a bunch of ground vehicles. Maybe now she’d find him.
Quickly glancing back, she saw Dorian, Joel, and the kids all fast asleep, exhausted from the ordeals they’d suffered.
She thought about all those who died. Carlos had been right; it wasn’t Alice’s fault. If it weren’t for Alice, they’d all have died at the Desert Trail Motel, and if it weren’t for Alice, they wouldn’t be in a helicopter en route to Arcadia.
For the first time in a long time, Claire Redfield had hope.
In Baltimore, Maureen came running up the escalator to where Jill was smoking a cigarette. After being the most reluctant to follow Jill’s plan of organization and takeover of the convention center, she’d become one of the firebrands of the survivors, organizing, scheduling, inventorying, and generally being one of the most useful members of this new society Jill found herself in the process of building.
“Jasper says we got us a van coming. Looks like seven people.”
The ex-cop didn’t play well with others, as he himself had predicted, so he mostly did sentry duty, which put his skills to use. Unlike the previous occupants’ sentries, he didn’t shoot people on sight. Living people, anyhow. Zees were taken down without hesitation, of course.
“Okay. See what they got, what they might be willing to trade, and if they need a place to stay. The usual drill.”
Maureen nodded and ran back down the escalator. Anyone who came by was offered a free night’s stay, but after that, they had to contribute something, trade something, or be gently turned away. It was harsh but not as harsh as it used to be—and also necessary for survival.
Seeing that it was about noontime—which she saw by the height of the sun in the sky streaming through the huge windows—Jill went into one of the small conference rooms, where Andre was playing with the radio.
“Anything?” she asked, same as she did every day.
Shaking his head, Andre said, “Nah,” same as he did every day. “But I’ll keep tryin’. You never know, you know?”
Jill smiled. It was a real smile, something she found herself doing a lot more these days. “I know. We’ll find more people. I’m sure of it.”
In truth, she wasn’t sure of it. She hadn’t heard boo from Carlos or Alice or L.J. or anyone. For all she knew, they were dead. For all she knew, these