Sherry returned his smile, a weary, too-adult smile that seemed out of place; she was too young to smile like that.

One more rotten deed to lay at Umbrella's door, innocence stolen from a child…

For a few seconds, they just sat there on the floor, staring at one another, smiles fading all around. Leon hardly dared to hope that it was really over, that they were leaving the terror behind. Again, he saw his feelings mirrored in front of him, in Sherry's worried brow and Claire's tired gray eyes…… and when they heard the distant squeal of metal coming from somewhere at the back of the train, he didn't see any surprise. A rending, tearing screech followed by a heavy, somehow stealthy thump and then nothing.

Should've known it isn't over… "Zombie?" Sherry whispered, the word almost lost in the gently clattering sound of the speeding train. "I don't know, sweetie," Claire said softly, and for the first time, Leon noticed that her left leg was ripped to shit, blood oozing from several ragged scratches; he'd been too amazed at his, at their narrow escape to see it before. "How about I go take a look?" Leon said, taking his cue from Claire, keeping his voice mild and even; no point in scaring Sherry any worse. He stood up, nodding toward Claire's leg.

"Sherry, why don't you stay here with Claire, keep an eye on that leg? I'll see if I can find some bandages while I'm checking things out; don't let her move, okay?"

Sherry nodded, her small face intent with purpose that again was too old for her years. "Got it." "I'll be back in a minute," he said, and turned toward the back of the swaying train, praying that it was nothing at all and knowing better, as he reached for the Remington and went to see. Leon opened the door, the sounds of the rolling train amplified for a second before it closed behind him. Claire couldn't see him enter the next car from her position on the floor, and wished she'd been in shape to go with him; if there was something else on the train, Sherry wasn't safe, none of them were -

– don't think like that, it's nothing. It's over -

–like it was over with Mr. X? "What should I do?" Sherry asked, pulling Claire away from the disheartening thoughts. "Direct pres-sure, right?" Claire nodded. "Yeah, except we're both pretty grimy, and I think it's starting to clot. Let's see if Leon comes back with something clean…"

She trailed off, her thoughts going back to Mr. X.

There was something nagging at her but she was a little dizzy from the blood she'd lost…

… G-Virus. It wanted the G-Virus before. Why had Mr. X come to the subway platform? Why had it been trying to get inside the train, unless…

Claire struggled to get up, fighting her swimming head and the throbbing pain in her leg. "Hey, don't move," Sherry said, a look of deep distress in her eyes. "Leon said to stay still!" She might have been able to overcome her physical problems, but seeing Sherry on the edge of panic was too much; if there was some G-Virus creature on board, if that was why Mr. X had come, Leon would have to face it alone. She couldn't leave Sherry. If Leon didn't come back, she'd have to figure out how to detach their train car, or stop the train so they could get off before the creature could get to them… Claire shut the thoughts off, forcing a smile for Sherry. "Yes ma'am. I just wanted to make sure he got through the second car…"

She could see the relief sweep across Sherry's face.

"Oh. Well, forget it, I'm taking care of you now, and I say you stay still."

Claire nodded absently, hoping that she was wrong, hoping that Leon would be back any second -

– Bam! Bam! Bam! The thunder of the Remington was loud and clear. Sherry grabbed her hand as two more shots blasted the hope from Claire's fuzzy mind, as the train sped through the dark.

The second car was clear, the same wide-open space that Leon had entered the train by, all dusty steel and not much else. Whoever had designed the escape vehicle had obviously figured the Umbrella employ– ees would have to be packed in like sardines.

Just us three, though – and our stowaway…

There was nothing to see, but Leon moved slowly nonetheless, carefully scanning the shadowy corners and steeling himself for whatever was in the last car. Whatever it was, it couldn't be as bad as the thing that had jumped him in the cargo room, the Birkin-thing, if that was what it was. The thought that the creature had anything at all to do with Claire's young friend was deeply unsettling, even obscene. A monster and a madwoman, both destroyed, both parents of the little girl… He reached the back of the dim and rocking train car and peered through the door, pushing all other thoughts aside as he tried to make out anything at all in the last car. Darkness, and nothing else.

Hell. Maybe there wasn't anything to see, but he had to look. He felt his heart start to pound fresh adrenaline through his body, felt his weariness fall away. Noth– ing, it was surely nothing, but it felt bad. Wrong.

Last thing, very last thing…

He took a deep breath and opened the door, step-ping into the loud, whipping breeze of the outside, holding on to the rail. The rattle of the train drowned out the thumping of his heart as he moved to the last car, opened the door, and stepped into darkness. Immediately, he raised the shotgun, all of his senses telling him to run as the door slid shut behind him. He reached back, slapping for a light switch. Dark-ness, but there was a powerful smell like bleach or chlorine, and there was the soft sound of wetness, of movement… A single bare bulb flickered on in the middle of the car as he found a button, and he thought for just a second that he'd lost his mind. A thing. A creature that wasn't even vaguely hu– manoid, except for a strange, pulsing tumor protrud– ing from one side, a slick orb that looked very much like an eye.

Birkin.

The creature was a giant, stretching blob of dark, slimy matter, spanning the width of the car; Leon couldn't tell how tall it was. The Birkin-thing had thick streamers extended out, tentacles of wet and elastic goo attached to every part of the space in front of it – the ceiling, walls, and floor. And as Leon watched, the alien beast pulled itself forward, the dark limbs contracting, bringing the mass of the body a few feet ahead of where it had been. Not crazy. He was seeing it, seeing the brackish, moving colors of black and green and purple in its tentacles as it stretched out again, the viscous materi– al latching to the metal of the car somehow, dragging the blob a few more feet ahead. The body itself was nothing so much as a gaping maw, a wet cave that still had teeth…… and that would reach him pretty soon if he didn't snap out of his disgusted stupor. Leon aimed into the giant hole of its mouth and pulled the trigger, pumping in another round, firing, pumping, firing…… and then the shotgun was empty, and the giant semi-liquid thing was still moving steadily forward. He didn't know how to kill it, didn't know if the rounds had even damaged it. His mind raced for an answer, for a solution that would end the terrible life

of the G-Virus monster. He could detach the last car, fire through the pins and chains that held it together, if he could find the locking mechanism…… and it would still be alive. Still living and chang-ing in the blackness of the tunnel, becoming something new. The stretching elastic of its nebulous form inched forward, and Leon reached back for the door control. He'd have to try unhooking the cars, there was no other choice -

– unless -

He hesitated, then unholstered his Magnum and pointed it at the impossible mass. At the strange tumor that peered out of a slit in its rubber flesh, the eye that had been in every form that Birkin had taken. Careful aim, and……BAM! The effect was immediate and total, the heavy round piercing the rheumy sphere – and a hissing, screaming whine or whistle pouring out of the toothed maw, like nothing on Earth, like the howl of some– thing mechanical and insane. The tendrils of un– formed matter shrank inward, turning black, shriv– eling…… and the thing imploded, pulling in on itself, withering into a steaming black mass less than a quarter its original size. Like a deflated beachball, the gelid blob wrinkled and shrank, collapsing into a flattening thickness, drooling itself into a wide puddle of bubbling slime. "Suck on that," Leon said softly, the last bubbles popping, the pool a dead and inanimate thing. He watched it for a few moments, thinking about nothing at all and finally turned to join the others, to tell them it was over. First day on the job, he thought. "I want a raise," Leon said, to no one at all, and couldn't help the grin that broke across his face, a tired, sunny grin that faded quickly… but for the few seconds he wore it, Leon felt better than he had in a very long time. Leon was back, and had found a jumpsuit that he tore into pieces and used to bind up Claire's leg. All he'd said was that they were safe now, although Sherry had seen him and Claire exchange a look – – one of those "we-shouldn't-talk-about-it-right-now" looks. Sherry was too tired to take offense. She snuggled into Claire's arms, Claire stroking her hair, the three of them not talking. There was nothing to say, or at least not for a little while. They were alive, on a train thundering through the dark – and from somewhere not far ahead, a soft light came filtering in, coming through the window in the control booth, and Sherry thought it looked very much like morning.