Please hold, just for a moment…

He turned, saw Leon at the smaller hatch on the south wall, saw the horror in his eyes, the color leached from his face, his trembling hand on the door's lever. "Locked," he said, and outside, the monster smashed into the door again.

Reston heard the noise when he was trying to figure out how to climb into the Avi kennel. The pen was about twelve feet off the ground, an open hole in the wall, and there was no ladder; the closest tree was a good seven feet away, impossible – but his only other way out of the test was the way he'd come, and he didn't dare go back out into the main hall. He'd about made up his mind to attempt climbing the tree to try the jump when the rending crashes had seeped into the room from Phase Two. Reston walked toward the connecting door, curious in spite of his fear. The phases were heavily sound– proofed; a noise like that could only be from a bomb, or a wrecking crew…… which means bomb. They've planted explosives after all, the monsters.

Reston waited by the door for a moment, but didn't hear anything else. The lone Dac let out a cry from somewhere across the chamber, the fight apparently taken out of it with the loss of its siblings; it hadn't tried to attack.

Explosives…

Phase Two was directly behind control, a double– thick wall between them, which had to mean that the renegades had blown up the control center, the most important – and most expensive – room in the Planet. They couldn't have chosen a better target; the facility was practically worthless with control destroyed.

But perhaps they've given me another way out…

Reston wasn't going to make any bets as to whether or not the barbarous mercenaries had finally gone, leaving the broken remains of the Planet behind -

–but if they have…

If they had, he'd be able to walk out. Maybe just walk away and not just from the Planet, but from White Umbrella. He was reasonably certain that Jackson would kill him for what had happened…… but not if Reston disappeared.

A few hundred thousand to Hawkinson, a ride to a safe place…

It could work, if he timed it right, if he changed his name and identity and went far, far away. It would work. Nodding to himself, he cracked open the door to Two, not sure what to expect, but it was still a surprise to see the massive, gaping holes in two of the desert's walls and the cement and wood and steel blown to pieces; each ragged opening was at least ten feet across, perhaps twenty feet high. He didn't see smoke anywhere, but imagined that the saboteurs had used some high-tech compound, some material that scum like that always seemed to have access to.

The heat was still high, and the lights were blazing, but it was definitely cooler with the new ventilation and though he stood for long seconds listening, he didn't hear a sound that might indicate their pres– ence. Unless it was some kind of trap… Reston shook his head, amused by his own para– noia. Now that he'd decided to be free, to leave behind the ruins of his life, he felt a kind of elation. A sense of new possibilities, even of rebirth. They were gone, their mission accomplished, the Planet wasted. Reston walked across the hot sands, stepping over the pieces of Scorp scattered about, finally climbing the shifting dune to peer into the hole.

My God, they managed to get everything, didn't they?

The destruction was nearly total, the gaping hole almost exactly where the monitor wall had been. Thick shards of glass, bits of wire and circuitry, a faint scent of ozone – that was all that was left of the brilliantly designed video-retrieval system. Four of the leather chairs had been knocked off their welded mounts, the one-of-a-kind marble table had actually cracked in two – and in the northeast corner of the room there was another giant, ragged hole sur– rounded by debris.

And through that hole…

Reston could actually see the elevator. The work– ing, running elevator, the lights engaged, the platform recalled. Was it a trap? It seemed too good to be true, but then he heard a distant pounding, somewhere off by the cell block, and thought that luck was finally with him; the employees had left, the sound could only be the blasted ex-S.T.A.R.S. team. Far enough away that he'd be halfway to the surface before they could make it back. Reston grinned, amazed that it would end like this; it seemed so anticlimactic somehow, so mundane… and am I complaining? No, no complaints. Not from me.

Reston stepped through the hole, moving carefully to avoid the sharp glass.

The battle with the food animals had made it hungry, had made it crave; that there was a strong wall in Fossil's way made it only more eager to eat, to fulfill its purpose. It pounded at the strong obstacle, feeling the matter shift, becoming less rigid, and although it wouldn't take much more to get at the animals, Fossil suddenly smelled new food. Back the way it had come, food, open and exposed, nothing between it and Fossil. It would come back after it had eaten. Fossil turned away and ran, hungry and wanting, determined to eat before the food could move away. As soon as Fossil turned and ran, John started to kick at the steel door, realizing that it was their only chance. The incredible beating that the monster had given it made it easy, the thick metal half off its tracks already. Claire and Leon started kicking. In seconds, they'd knocked it far enough from the metal indentation that it fell off, clattering to the floor – and seconds after that, they were running, running for the elevator, David carrying Rebecca and all of them silent. Fossil would be back, they all knew it, and they didn't stand a chance against it.

"NO! NO! NO!"

A man, screaming, and as John rounded the corner, he saw that it was Reston, saw him sprinting down the long corridor, Fossil closing fast. They ran, John wondering how long it would take the monster to eat an entire human. And as they reached the elevator, leapt through the doors, Leon pulling the gate down…… they all heard the wailing scream rise to an inhuman pitch – and then cut off sharply, stopped by a heavy wet crunch. The elevator started to rise.

TWENTY-FOUR

REBECCA WAS FALLING ASLEEP, THE LULL OF the elevator as soothing as the sound of David's heartbeat. As tired as she was, she lifted one incredi-bly heavy hand to the flat black book tucked into the waistband of her pants. Reston hadn't even noticed, apparently hadn't suspected that she could fake a fall with the best of them. She thought about telling the others, breaking the tired silence in the rising elevator to give them the news, then decided it could wait; they deserved a pleasant surprise. Rebecca closed her eyes, resting. They still had a long way to go, but the tide was turning; Umbrella would pay for its crimes. They would see to it.