Ada seemed to know what he was thinking. Before he could come up with a convincing argument, she stepped forward and put one slender hand on his arm, the humor fading from her bright eyes.

"I know you want to do your job here, but you said it yourself – we have to find a way out of Raccoon, try and get outside help. And the sewers are probably the best chance we've got…"

The light, gentle touch surprised him and sent an electric flutter through his belly, an unexpected flush of warmth that left him feeling confused and uncer– tain. He managed to keep his reaction from showing, but just barely. Ada continued, frowning thoughtfully. "How about This – help me with the manhole cover, and let's see what's down there. If it looks dangerous, I'll come with you… but if it's not bad – well, we can talk about what to do next."

He wanted to protest, but the truth was, he couldn't make her do anything she didn't want to do and he wanted very much for her to know that he wasn't some overbearing macho type, that he was receptive to compromise…

… and does the name "John" ring a bell? This isn't a date for Chrissake, stop thinking with your hor-mones.

Feeling awkward even thinking about it with her hand still on his arm, Leon stepped away, nodding briskly. Together, they crouched down next to the manhole. Leon picked up the crowbar and jammed one end beneath the lid; as he pulled back, Ada pushed on the bar, and with a heavy grating sound the thick metal plate came up. Leon put his back into it and heaved the lid to one side, clearing the opening -

– and both of them recoiled back from the smell that bellowed out of the dark hole, a choking, dark stench of blood and piss and vomit. "Gah, what is that?" Leon coughed. Ada sat back on her heels, one hand pressed to her mouth. "The bodies from the garage, they must have dumped them down here…"

Before he could ask what she was talking about, a scream of pure terror echoed through the basement halls, filtering through the closed door. The cry went on and on, a man's voice, the panicked scream suddenly changing to a gurgling shriek of pain.

The reporter.

Leon locked gazes with Ada, saw the same startled realization flash across her face and then they were both up and running, pulling out their weapons and sprinting through the door before the echoes died.

I left him, I shouldn't have left him…

They ran down the corridor for the cell block, guilt driving Leon to run faster than he thought he could. Someone or something had gotten to Bertolucci and had passed right behind his back to do it.

Sherry stood in Mr. Irons's office, rubbing at her good luck pendant and wishing that Claire would come back. She had crawled through a dozen dusty tunnels to get away from the monster and to lead it away from Claire, and was pretty sure it had worked – she hadn't heard it again, and had come back to find that Claire had left; if the monster had found her, she would have been dead and ripped apart.

But she's not here. Nobody is…

Sherry sat on the edge of a low table in the middle of the room, wondering what she should do. She'd gotten used to being alone, and hadn't even realized how lonely she'd been, but meeting Claire had changed that. Sherry wanted to see her again, she wanted to be with other people, she wanted her parents so bad that it made her ache. Even Mr. Irons would be okay, although Sherry didn't like him; she'd only met him a couple of times but he was weird, showy and fake – and his office was creepy besides. Still, she'd gladly put up with him if it meant she didn't have to be alone anymore… Footsteps. In the hall outside of the office. Sherry stood up and ran to the open door that led back to the armor room, hoping it was Claire and ready to sprint for cover if it wasn't. She ducked around the door frame and held her breath, staring at the stuffed tiger in the hall and silently praying. The outer door opened and closed. Muffled steps on the carpet, moving slowly, and she tensed to run, at the same time trying to muster up enough courage to sneak a look…

"Sherry?" Claire! "I'm here!"

She ran back into the office and there was Claire,

her whole face lit up with a beaming smile. Sherryflew into her open arms, so happy to see her that she wanted to cry."I was looking for you," Claire said, holding her tightly. "Don't run off like that again, okay?"Claire knelt in front of her, still smiling, but Sherry could see the worry behind the smile and in her cool gray eyes. "I'm sorry," Sherry said. "I had to, or the monster would have come." "What does it look like?" Claire asked, her smile fading. "Does it look – kind of red, with claws?"Sherry swallowed heavily. "The inside-out men! You saw one, didn't you?"

Incredibly, Claire grinned, shaking her head.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I saw, an inside-out man… good description."

She looked at Sherry more seriously, frowning.

" 'Men'? There are more of them?" Sherry nodded. "Yes, but they aren't anything like the monster. I only saw him once, from behind, but he's a man, a giant man…"Claire seemed excited. "Bald? Wearing a long coat?"No, he had hair, brown hair. And one of his arms was all screwed up, a lot longer than the other one." Claire sighed. "Terrific. Raccoon's got something for everyone, sounds like…"

She reached out and took Sherry's hand, squeezing it. "… and that's all the more reason that you should stay with me. You've done a really good job of taking care of yourself, and you've been very brave, but until we find your parents, I feel like it's my job for now, to watch out for you. And if the monster comes, I’ll just kick its ass, okay?"

Sherry laughed, surprised into it. She liked that Claire didn't talk down to her. She nodded, and Claire squeezed her hand again.

"Good. So we've got zombies, inside-out men, and a monster. And a big bald guy… Sherry, do you know what happened to Raccoon? How this all got started? Anything you can tell me, anything at all – it could be important." Sherry frowned, thinking. "Well, there were a bunch of murders last May, or June I think – like ten people got killed. And then they stopped, but then maybe a week ago, somebody got attacked." Claire nodded encouragingly. "Okay. Did more people start getting attacked, or… what did the police do?"

Sherry shook her head, wishing she could be more

helpful. "I don't know. Right before that girl got attacked, my mother called from work really upset, and told me that I couldn't leave the house. Mrs. Willis – that's our next-door neighbor – she came over and cooked dinner for me, and that's how I heard about that girl. Mom called again the next day, and told me that she and Dad were stuck at the plant and wouldn't be home for a while – and then like three days ago, she called again and told me to come here. I went to see if Mrs. Willis would come with me, but her house was dark and empty. I guess things had already gotten pretty bad by then." Claire was staring at her intently. "You were alone all that time? Even before you got to the station?" Sherry nodded. "Well yeah, but I stay alone a lot. My parents are both scientists; their work is impor-tant, and sometimes they can't stop in the middle of what they're doing. And my mother always says that I'm very self-sufficient, when I want to be." "Do you know what kind of work your parents do? At Umbrella?" Claire was still watching her closely. "They develop cures for things, for diseases," Sher-ry said proudly. "And make medicines, like serums that hospitals use…"

She trailed off, noticing that Claire seemed dis– tracted suddenly, her gaze far away. It was a look she had seen plenty of times before, on both of her parents' faces – and it meant that they weren't really listening anymore. But as soon as she stopped talking, Claire refocused on her, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder – and for some stupid reason, that made Sherry want to cry again.