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.I'd like verymuch to test this theory in a more literal way, regard-ing pain levels.I've found that filling a fresh woundwith cut glass and sewing it closed again is a.Sickened, Claire tossed the book aside and wiped herhands on her jeans, deciding that she had enough infor-mation to go on.She hoped quite sincerely that thecorpse upstairs was Dr.Stoker's, that his black heart hadfailed him and it was the thought of going to hell that hadfrozen his face into a mask of terror - and she abruptlyrealized that she'd had more than enough of his atmos-phere, that if she had to be in the infirmary for one moreminute, she really was going to throw up.She turned andwalked quickly to the door, was full on running by thetime she reached the stairs.She took them two at a time,and sprinted through the upstairs room, not looking at thebody, not thinking about anything but the need to get out.When she hit the outside path that led back to theguillotine door, she collapsed against one wall andbreathed in huge lungfuls of air, concentrating on keep-ing her gorge down.It took a couple of minutes beforeshe was out of the danger zone.When she felt ready, Claire plugged a fresh clip in hersemi and started back toward the training facility.Sherealized that she'd lost the second weapon Steve gaveher somewhere between the torture chamber and thefront door, but there was nothing on Earth that wouldpersuade her to step foot back inside.She was going toget Steve, and they would find those goddamn keys, andthen they were getting the fuck away from the asylumthat Umbrella had created at Rockfort.Steve cried for a while, and rocked himself back andforth for a while, dully aware that he'd just done a veryBig Thing -- as far as lifetime experiences went, therewas the small shit and then big and then capital B Big.There were some things that just changed people forever,and this was one of them.He'd had to kill his own father.Both his parents, good people who meant no harm, weredead.That meant there was no one in the world wholoved him now, and it was that thought that kept repeat-ing itself, making him cry and rock back and forth.It was thinking about the Lugers that finally snappedhim out of the private emotional hell he was in, that madehim remember where he was and what was happening.He still felt entirely terrible, aching inside and out, but hestarted to tune back in to his environment, wishing thatClaire was with him, wishing for a glass of water.The Lugers.Steve rubbed at his swollen eyes andthen pulled both of them from under his belt, staringdown at them.It was stupid, unimportant, but some-where in the back of his mind, he'd finally connectedthat when he'd taken the matched handguns off the wall,that was when he'd been locked in and the heat hadgone on.It had been a trap.and as far as he couldfigure, the only purpose of a trap like that was to keepsomeone from taking the weapons.Which means maybe they're useful for something be-sides shooting.Yeah, they were gilded and cool-lookingand probably expensive, but the Ashfords obviouslyweren't hurting for money.and if the guns had somekind of sentimental value, why were they being used aspart of a trap?He decided that he wanted to go back and take acloser look at where they'd been hanging, see if puttingthem back did anything.It was a two-minute walk backto the mansion, tops, he could be there and back in five;Claire would wait for him if she got back first.And if I stay here, I'll just keep crying.He wanted,needed something to do.Steve stood up, feeling shaky and kind of hollow ashe brushed dirt off his pants, unable to avoid lookingover at where his father had died.He felt a rush of reliefwhen he saw that Claire had covered him up with apiece of tarp.She was a great girl.though for somereason, he suddenly felt kind of weird about her, abouttelling her all that stuff.He wasn't sure how he felt.He stepped outside, and was vaguely surprised to seethat he wasn't in the front yard of the training facility.He was also vaguely surprised that in the small, high-walled square he had walked into was what appeared tobe a WWII Sherman tank.Giant, mud-crusted treads,revolving turret with huge gun, the whole deal [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]