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TWENTY-FIVE
The dark slid past the moving platform, metal darkness bathed in murky orange light, and whatever had punched through the wall of the transport was gone. Leon had edged his way around the enclosed room twice, and seen nothing at all, heard nothing but the smooth hum of the working motors. When the creature finally howled from the shadows atop the roof, and Leon snapped the shotgun up, what he saw actually made him freeze. In the second it took him to really see it, his vengeful fury blew away like so much dust, replaced by an absolute bone-chilling awe.
Holy shit…
The thing was still shrieking, its head thrown back, the brutal, gurgling scream like the voice of hell in the moving dark. It had been a man, once – arms and legs, shreds of clothing still hanging from its hulking body – but everything human about it had changed, was still changing as it bellowed its rage into the cold black, and Leon could only stare. Its body was swollen and rippling with strange muscles, the bare chest puffed and bloated with its endless scream. Its right arm was six inches longer than the left, the stained bone claws jutting from the pulsing hand. And the bulbous moving tumor in its right bicep looked like nothing so much as an eyeball the size of a di
– I'm dead -
–except it didn't take the step. Instead, it turned toward the railing, its bizarre head tilting, the pits of its rudimentary nostrils flaring…… and silently, almost gracefully, it leapt over the edge of the platform, out into the passing darkness. For a moment, Leon didn't move. He couldn't, he was too busy trying to understand that the monster hadn't killed him. It had smelled or sensed some– thing, it had broken off the attack that it most certainly would have won and had jumped off the moving transport.
I'm not dead. It's gone, and I'm not dead.
Why, he didn't know, and couldn't begin to guess. Accepting that he was alive was enough and a short time later, maybe no more than a few seconds, his knotted thoughts and senses told him that the trans– port was slowing down, that the shaft was getting lighter, the blackness washing to gray. Leon crawled to his feet and went to check on Ada. Sherry had heard the monster from far away, from somewhere deep in the giant hole, and felt even more scared than she had when the giant – Mr. X, Claire called him – had come into the train station. Claire had said it probably wasn't even the monster, that it was most likely some machine problem, but Sherry wasn't convinced. The sound was so distant and strange that it could have been something else…
… but what if it isn't? What if Claire's wrong?
They stood outside a warehouse in the chill of the dark, stood over the big hole in the ground and waited for the mechanical noises to stop. The almost-full moon was low in the sky, and Sherry could tell by the deep blue light of the horizon that it was very early in the morning; she didn't feel tired, though. She felt scared and anxious, and even with Claire holding her hand she didn't want to go down into the black hole where the monster could be. After what seemed like a long time, the humming noise of the machinery stopped, and Claire stepped back from the hole – “The transport shaft,” she said and turned back toward the warehouse.
"Let's go see if we can recall the… Sherry?"
Sherry hadn't moved to follow her. She stared down into the hole, holding her charm and wishing that she was brave like Claire, but she wasn't, she knew she wasn't, and she didn't want to go down into the dark.
I can't, I can't go down there, I'm NOT like Claire and I don't care if that's where my mom went, I don't care at all…
Sherry felt warmth across her back and looked up, startled, to see that Claire had taken off her vest and was slipping it over her shoulders. "I want you to have this," Claire said, and in spite of her fear, Sherry felt a sudden rush of confused happiness.
"But… why? It's yours, and you'll get cold…"
Claire ignored her for a minute, helping her put it on. It was too big for her and it had some dirt on it, but it was the coolest thing Sherry thought she'd ever worn.
For me. She wants me to have it.
Claire knelt in front of her, now wearing only a thin black T-shirt and shorts. She looked at her very seriously, pulling the vest closed over Sherry's chest.
"I want you to have it because I can tell that you're scared," she said firmly, "and I've had it for a long time, and when I wear it, I feel like I can kick ass. Like nothing can stop me. My brother has a leather jacket with the same design on the back, and he kicks ass, but he got the idea from me."
She smiled suddenly, a tired, warm smile that made Sherry forget about the monster, just for a minute.
"So now it's yours, and every time you wear it, I want you to remember that I think you are the best twelve-year-old who ever walked."
Sherry smiled back, hugging the faded pink denim to her body. "And it's a bribe, huh?" Claire nodded without hesitation. "Yes. And it's a bribe. So what do you say?"
Sighing, Sherry reached for her hand, and they walked back into the warehouse to find the controls for the elevator.
Ada woke up as Leon set her gently on a creaking cot, woke up with a pounding headache and a pain in her side. Her first thought was that she'd been shot, but as she opened her eyes, and Leon's worried, pale face swam into focus, she remembered.
He was going to kiss me, I think… and then… "What happened?"
Leon reached down and brushed her hair off of her forehead, smiling a little. "A monster happened. The same one that got Bertolucci, I think. It put its hand through the wall of the transport and knocked you over. You hit your head, after it clawed you." Virus!
Ada struggled to sit up, to look at the wound, but the headache knocked her back. She reached up and carefully touched the throbbing spot just over her left temple, wincing at the feel of the sticky lump.
"Hey, just stay put," Leon said. "The wound isn't too bad, but you took a pretty serious knock…"