Resident Evil_ Extinction - Keith R. A. DeCandido [3]
She grabbed the ornately designed pen next to the pad and started writing beneath the underline. She got as far as, “Today all your,” then stopped when it became obvious that it wasn’t she who had written it.
Frustrated, she moved out into the next room, the dining hall—though there was no dining table. It was simply a large, empty room with a few antique chairs and end tables, wood paneling, and a lot of space.
One of those end tables had a framed picture atop it. She picked it up, seeing her own face along with that of a handsome man. He wore a tuxedo, she a bridal gown. Again, she stared down at the gold band on her left ring finger.
A heavy thud startled her. She set the picture down and turned toward a statue that was just past the far end of the room, in a vestibule. The statue was, for reasons passing understanding, wrapped loosely in plastic. A breeze ruffled the plastic, making a low crackling noise.
“Hello?”
Curious, she set the picture down and walked toward the statue. Stepping through the entryway into the vestibule, she found a large, ornate wooden door. It had a brass pull handle that was at neck level for some reason. Reaching up, she pulled the handle downward, and the door swung open.
On the other side was a long, thin corridor with walls of glass that led to a giant metal door that looked as if it belonged in a bank vault. Bright lights behind the glass walls came on as she entered, and she averted here eyes from the sudden illumination.
Slowly, carefully, she walked forward, blinking a few times to adjust her eyes.
Once she was halfway there, the lights dimmed again.
She looked around quickly, not sure what was happening but getting into a defensive crouch, trying to be ready for what might come.
What came was a horizontal beam of light at about ankle height that sprang into being right in front of the metal door at the far end.
Then it started to move toward her.
She got lower in her crouch, preparing to jump, when the beam moved up to chest height. Seemingly running on instinct, she backpedaled and took a quick glance behind her to see that the big wooden door had slammed shut as well. Crouching low, she leapt up toward the ceiling, wrapped her fingers around an air vent, and levered her legs upward so that her body was parallel to the floor above the line of the laser.
As long as the laser didn’t rise any higher, she’d be fine.
The red dress she wore was cut oddly: it extended to her ankle on the outer part of her right leg but was cut in a U shape, leaving her legs free. On the left side, the dress came only to her hips.
The bit on her right side hung down loosely from her position atop the glass corridor, extending below the laser line. The laser sliced cleanly through the fabric, the cloth fluttering noiselessly to the floor, smoke coming off the charred end of the part that was still attached.
Lowering herself back to a vertical position, she let go of the air vent and landed on the floor, bending her knees to lessen the impact.
Before she could decide on another course of action, the lights dimmed again, and another beam formed at ankle height at the far end.
This time, though, the beam didn’t rise to chest height. Instead, it spread into a diagonal grid that took up the entire breadth and height of the corridor.
Nowhere to jump, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
With one exception.
Again she jumped to the ceiling. Again she grabbed the air vent. But this time, she didn’t just level off but kicked upward at one of the other air vents, knocking it askew. Using her ankles to brace herself, she slid into the vent, barely ahead of the laser grid. Her head went in last, blond hair sliced at the ends and vaporized by the grid before it could reach the floor.
The air vent was tight, and she took a moment to get her bearings and squiggle around into a position where she could