[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Driedstrings of muscle dripped in streamers from a grin-ning face.A corpse had been nailed to the door, one handfixed in a welcoming wave.From the look, it had beendead for weeks.Steve felt his gorge rise into his throat.He swal-lowed it down, looking away, but the grotesque imagewas already fixed in his mind - the eyeless face andpeeling tissue, the carefully splayed fingers pinnedinto place.Jesus, is that some kind of a joke? Steve felt dizzy,still out of breath from the nightmarish swim, thesloshing climb over the rocks, the horror of theUmbrella sea monster.The dried, sour smell of rotwasn't helping.For a few seconds, nobody spoke.Then Davidcupped one hand over the light and started talking,his voice low but amazingly even."Check your belts and drop your clips.I wantstatus, now, injuries then equipment.Take a deepbreath, everyone.John?"John's solemn voice rumbled through the shadowsto Steve's left, accompanied by sounds of wet, fum-bling movement.Karen and Rebecca were to hisright, David still by the door."I got fish slime on me, but I'm okay.I've got myweapon but my light's gone.So are the radios.""Rebecca?"Her voice was wavering but quick."I'm fine - uh,my weapon's here, and the flashlight, the med kit.oh, and I've got the ammo."Steve checked himself out as she spoke, unholster-ing his Beretta and ejecting the wet mag, slipping itinto a pocket.There was an empty spot on his beltwhere his light should have been."Steve?""Yeah, no injuries.Weapon but no light.""Karen?""Same."David's fingers shifted over the muted beam, allow-ing a shallow glow to spill into the room."No one'shurt and we're still armed; things could be a lot worse.Rebecca, pass out the clips, please.The fence can't bemore than fifty meters south from here, and there areenough trees for cover, provided no one has seen usyet.This operation is called, we're getting out ofhere."Steve accepted three loaded magazines fromRebecca, nodding his thanks.He slapped one into thesemi, chambering a round automatically.Great, fine, let's blow.That insane creature nearlyeating us, now Mr.Death dropping a casual wave, likehe was put there to say hello.Steve wasn't easily frightened, but he knew a badsituation when he saw it.He admired the S.T.A.R.S.deeply, had wanted to go in on the operation to helpmake things right, but with their boat gone and theinitial plan shot to shit, nailing Umbrella could wait.David stepped closer to the decomposed figure, alook of disgust curling his features in the shadowyorange glow of the light."Karen, Rebecca, come takea look at this.John, take Rebecca's torch, you andSteve see if you can find anything useful."Rebecca handed her flashlight to John, who noddedat Steve.The two men walked to one end of the longworkbench, the soft voices of the others carryingacross the still air."The T-Virus didn't do this," Rebecca said."Pat-tern of decay's all wrong."Silence, then Karen spoke."See that? David, giveme the light for a sec."John hooded their flashlight with one large hand,playing the beam across the dirty planks of thecounter.A broken coffee mug.A pile of greasy nutsand bolts on top of a laminated tide chart.An electricscrewdriver, dusty and dented, a couple of bits on astained rag.Nothing, there's nothing here.We should get outbefore someone comes looking.John opened a drawer and rummaged through itwhile Steve tried to make out what was on an over-head shelf.Behind them, Karen spoke again."He wasn't dead when they nailed him up, thoughI'd say he was close.Definitely unconscious.There'sno smearing, suggesting he didn't struggle.andthere are slide marks, here and here; I'd say he wasshot by the back door and dragged over."John had finished digging through the drawer andthey moved on, boots squelching against the woodfloor.A set of socket wrenches.A cheap radio.Acrumpled paper bag next to a pencil nub.Something snagged at Steve's thoughts and hestopped, looking at the paper bag.The pencil.He picked up the crunched ball, smoothing out thewrinkles and turning it over.There were several lineswritten near the bottom, scrawled and jerky."Hey, we found something," John called quietly,shining the light on the writing as the others hurriedover.Steve read it aloud, squinting at the faintlypenciled words under the wobbling beam.There wasno punctuation; he did his best to work out the pausesas he went.".'July 20.Food was drugged, I'm sick, I hid thematerial for you, sent data.Boats are sunk and he letthe."Steve frowned, unable to make out the word.Tris.tri-squads?" 'Boats are sunk and he let the Trisquads out - darknow, they'll come, I think he killed the rest -stop him -God knows what he means to do.Destroy the lab - findKrista, tell her I'm sorry, Lyle is sorry.I wish.'"There was nothing more."Ammon's message," Karen said softly."LyleAmmon."It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out whowas hanging on the door.The sagging, seeping Mr.Death had an identity now, for what it was worth.And the message that Trent had given David was soweird because the poor guy had apparently beendoped up when he sent it."Nice to put a face to the name, huh?" Johncracked, but not even he smiled.The desperate littlenote had an ominous ring to it, with or without thebrutal murder to back it up.What's a Trisquad? Who's "he"?"Maybe we should look around a little more."Rebecca began hesitantly, but David was shaking hishead."I think it's best if we leave this for now.We'll."He broke off as heavy, plodding footsteps soundedacross the wood deck, just outside the door they'dcome through.Everyone froze, listening.More thanone set, and whoever they were, they were making noeffort to hide their approach [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]