Because she's listening to me. Because she wants to watch out for me now. "Your mother's right," Claire said gently, "you're very self-sufficient, and that you've made it this far means that you're also very strong. That's good, because we're both going to have to be strong, to make it out of here." Sherry felt her eyes go wide. "What do you mean? Leave the station? But there are zombies all over the place, and I don't know where my parents are, what if they need help or they're looking for me…" "Sweetie, I'm sure your folks are just fine," Claire said quickly. "They're probably still at the plant, hiding and safe, just like you were – waiting for people to come from outside of the city, to, to make everything better…" "You mean kill everything," Sherry said. "I'm twelve, you know, I'm not a baby." Claire smiled. "Sorry. Yeah, to kill everything. But until the good guys come, we're on our own. And the best thing we can do, the smartest thing, is to get out of their way – to get as far out of their way as possible. You're right, the streets aren't safe, but maybe we can get a car…"

It was Claire's turn to trail off. She stood up and walked toward the big desk at the far end of the office, looking around as she went.

"Maybe Chief Irons left his car keys here, or another weapon, something we can use…"

Claire saw something on the floor behind the desk. She crouched down and Sherry hurried after her, as much to stay close as to see what she'd found. She already knew that she didn't want to lose her again, no matter what else happened. "There's blood here," Claire said softly, so softlythat Sherry thought she hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"So?"

Claire looked up at the plain tan wall, frowning, then back down at the big drying splotch of red on the floor. "It's still wet, for one thing. And see the way it's just kind of cut off? There should be some on the wall here…"

She rapped on the dark wood trim that lined the wall, then on the wall itself. There was an obvious difference; a dull thump from the trim, but the wall sounded hollow. "Is there a room back there?" Sherry asked. "I don't know, it sounds like it. And it would explain where he took… where he took off to earli-er. Chief Irons."

She glanced up at Sherry as she started to feel along the baseboards, running her hands up the wall and pushing at it. "Sherry, look around the desk, see if you can find like a switch or a lever. My guess is it would be hidden somewhere, maybe in one of the drawers…"

Sherry started to move behind the desk and tripped, her foot sliding on a handful of pencils that she hadn't seen. She grabbed at the desktop, trying to catch her balance, but still came down pretty hard on her bare knees.

"Ow!"

Claire was next to her right away, putting an armaround her shoulders. "Are you okay?" "Yeah. I just… hey! Look!"

Her bruised knees forgotten, Sherry pointed at the switch under the top drawer of the desk, set into a small metal plate. It looked like a light switch, but it had to be for the secret door, she just knew it.;

I found it!

Claire reached out and flipped the switch and behind them, a section of the wall a few feet across slid smoothly upwards, disappearing into the ceiling and exposing a dimly lit room lined with oversized bricks. Cool, damp air breezed into the office; it was a secret passage, just like in the movies. Together, they stood and stepped toward the open– ing, Claire holding Sherry back with one arm until she'd looked first. The small room was totally empty – three brick walls and a stained wood floor, and only about half the size of the office. The fourth wall was dominated by a big old-fashioned elevator gate, the kind that pushed to one side. "Are we going to take it?" Sherry asked. She was excited but nervous, too. Claire had taken her gun out. She crouched down next to Sherry and smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile, and Sherry knew what was coming before Claire said a word.

"Sweetie, I think it would be safest if I went and looked around first, and you stayed here…" "But you said we should stay together! You said we could find a car and leave! What if the monster comes back and you're not here, or you get killed?"

Claire hugged her, but Sherry felt almost sick with helpless anger. She was going to tell her not to worry, that the monster wouldn't come, that nothing bad would happen and then she was going to leave anyway.

Stupid grownup lies…

Claire leaned back, smoothing Sherry's hair away from her face. "I don't blame you for being scared. I'm scared, too. This is a bad situation and hon-estly, I don't know what's going to happen. But I want to do the right thing by you, and that means that I'm not going to take you into a situation where you could get hurt, not if I can help it." Sherry swallowed back tears, trying again. "But I want to come with you… what if you don't come back?" "I'm going to come back," Claire said firmly, "I promise. And if… if I don't, I want you to hide again, like before. Somebody will come, help is going to come soon, and they'll find you."

At least she was being honest; Sherry didn't like it, not at all, but at least there was that and from the look on her face, Sherry could see that there was nothing she could say to change her mind. She could be a baby about it, or she could accept it. "Be careful," she whispered, and Claire hugged her again before standing and moving toward the eleva– tor. She pushed a button next to the gate and there was a low, soft hum; after a few seconds an elevator car rose into view, coming to a gentle stop. Claire pulled the gate open and stepped inside, turning for a last look at Sherry. "Stay here, sweetie," she said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Sherry forced herself to nod and Claire let the gate close. She touched something inside the elevator and the car went down, her smiling, strong face descending out of sight, leaving Sherry by herself in the cold, dark passage. Sherry sat down on the dusty floor and hugged her knees close to her body, rocking herself slowly. Claire was brave and smart, she'd be back soon, she had to come back soon… "I want my mommy," Sherry whispered, but there was nobody to hear. She was alone again, the thing she wanted least of all.

But I'm strong. I'm strong, and I can wait.

She rested her chin on one knee, touching the necklace her mother had given her for good luck, and started to wait for Claire to come back.

SIXTEEN

Annette birkin sat in the laboratory monitor room, exhausted, staring up at the wall of video screens centered over the surveillance console. She'd been there for what felt like years, waiting for William to appear, and was starting to think that he never would. She'd give it a little longer, but if she didn't see him soon, she'd have to do another search.

Goddamn technology…

It was a brand-new system, less than a month old -

– twenty-five screens with a channel control that should have allowed her to see any and every part of the facility. A brilliant security advance – except only eleven of the screens still worked at all, and over half of those would only show static, an endless dance of electric snow. Of the five she could still get a clear picture from, all she could see – all there was to see -

–were dead, rotting bodies and the occasional Re3, either feasting or sleeping…

"Lickers. You called them lickers, because of their tongues…"

She thought she'd been past the worst of the pain, but the lonely sound of her own voice in the cold, cavernous chamber and the realization that there would be no answer – that there would never be an answer again – brought on a fresh, knifing wave of grief. William was gone, he was gone and she was talking to no one at all. Annette lowered her head to the console, closing her weary eyes. At least there were no more tears; she'd wept an ocean of them in the days since Um– brella had come for the G-Virus, but was simply too spent to cry anymore. Now there was only pain, interspersed with fits of violent, helpless fury over what Umbrella had done.