Chapter 25: The Choices We Make
Chris didn't bother to cringe at the sound of their footsteps echoing across the large cargo bay, let alone even mask them. He strode on with the grim confidence of a man ready to do what Piers had once convinced him not to do - kill Ada Wong. Not because he wanted to, that particular rage had left him long ago. No, because he was sure now in a way he couldn't explain that Ada Wong wasn't going to give him a choice. Someone in this cargo bay was going to die tonight, he could read it in the casual way she allowed Jake Muller to sleep cushioned in her gracefully folded lap, her fingers sliding through unkempt hair like a goodbye.
Chris stopped at the edge of the clearing and waited.
"Hello, Captain Redfield," Ada said, her gaze focused down at the young man in her lap. Despite all the stimuli around him, Jake didn't even twitch - his face a blank slate of unconsciousness and his hands limp against the bomb that ticked away beneath them.
"Wong," he replied, and could see Piers suddenly still at the tone of his voice - tired and resigned even to his own ears. She didn't flinch, didn't even move. Just continued to thread her fingers into the young man's hair beneath her.
"I had thought you were a stronger man," she said casually, then shrugged, "But even a man like you can only resist for so long. Are you here to kill me, captain?"
"I'm here to protect Jake Muller," he said.
"Then yes," Ada said and lifted her gaze to meet him. "You are here to kill me."
Chris pursed his lips.
"It doesn't have to be this way, Wong. Just let the kid go."
She spoke with him as if they were doing nothing more than sitting on a bench somewhere pleasant and discussing the weather.
"Don't make me do this."
"I'm not making you do anything he wouldn't have you do regardless," she said and tilted her head to analyze him, her bangs dipping to the side like a sheet of silk in the low light of the cargo bay. Chris swallowed, his throat thick and his blood cold as his eyes drifted from her hand in Jake's hair to the bomb that rested between them both. His instincts raged at the sight of the young man, urgent and demanding, but he ignored Wesker's orders as best he could.
"You're not working for Wesker," he said.
"No, I'm not."
He put two and two together.
"You're waiting for him."
She let out a surprised, if not pleased 'hmm' of praise and purred, "I knew there was a reason why he picked you."
All of this, it had been a lure - bait to draw out a predator. The question though: where was Wesker?
"He's not here, but even if he was - He'll kill you, Ada," Chris said, suddenly unsure of why this mattered so much other than the fact that Ada living was evidently what Wesker didn't want.
"Not if I kill him first," she said, and something boiled furiously in his gut. His hands tightened into fists, and he had to force himself to close his eyes and breathe before his instincts marched his body right up to Ada's docile form and strangled the threat from her throat right then and there.
"Don't," Chris warned.
"The ball is already in motion, captain. Nothing you can do about it now but brace yourself."
He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat as Piers shoved him out of the way with a quick, "Chris, look out!" He stumbled to his hands and knees, but was already scrambling up by the time he saw what Piers had protected him from.
Jill Valentine had Piers by the throat, her thin fingers unnaturally strong against the fragile piping of his neck as she squeezed, forcing an unhealthy red hue to Piers' cheeks as he pulled at her wrists. With a rough, choked snarl, Piers let loose a series of crippling shocks from his fingertips that sent Jill's body writhing, her fingers clenching even tighter against the waves of electricity until the barrage finally ended. As she swayed, Piers delivered a quick boot to her sternum, rocketing her across the room with a shout.
"I've got Valentine," he said as he jogged after her. "You deal with Wong."
Before him, Ada quirked one elegant brow at him and smiled charmingly.
"So how about it, captain? Ready to deal with me?"
"Step away from Muller, Wong," Chris said steadily, his body tense as he watched her gingerly lift the young man's head and lower him gently to the ground. She slipped to her feet silently, her dress swaying as she pulled a gun up with her from where it had been hiding behind Jake's prone form. It was an odd gun, like nothing he had ever seen before, and the chamber that typically housed the ammunition clip was instead glowing with a bright green liquid.
"I'm afraid you'll have to make me," she said simply and hefted the weapon into both her hands.
"Sherry, when it's clear, start working on getting Jake out of that bomb," he said without ever taking his eyes off Ada.
"Understood," Sherry said softly, her body poised and prepared to go to Jake as soon as Ada was distracted.
To his right, he could hear Piers and Jill fighting. A crescendo of hits closely followed by the sound of a canister rocking dangerously as one of them was thrown against it. It did little to distract either of them, and without even looking over, Chris began to sidestep Ada away from Jake.
"Does Leon know you're down here?" he asked as they prepared themselves for the inevitable.
"Yes," she said. "He does."
Chris snorted with pent up disappointment. "If you're even half the woman he seems to think you are, you wouldn't do this."
She seemed about to say something when she paused, an odd smile passing over her face instead. "Stalling will get you nowhere, captain. Particularly when there are bombs afoot. Shall we begin?"
Leon ran through the halls like his heels were on fire. Ada had smashed his communicator beneath one elegant heel and never had he regretted caving into her whims more than he did in that moment. The woman had practically revealed everything that was about to happen and then left him stranded in the far side of the complex - away from the action - and locked in the archives room with his less than desirable firewall hacking skills. It had taken far longer than he'd like to admit to escape from the room she had locked him in.
He wanted to notify Hunnigan. He wanted to check in with his team. He wanted to know that the explosion he had felt rock through the building had been a bluff and not the result of Ada finally crossing the fine line into terrorism that she had been tiptoeing for so long. He wanted to know they were alive, all of them.
But all he knew was that the security server had announced that the override was compromised and that Westbarl had unlocked the emergency entrance to the cargo bay. So he ran, practically sprinted, to the cargo bay - hoping beyond hope that it wasn't too late to stop this from happening. All the while, the video Ada had left him locked with in the archives room kept echoing in his ears.
"Ada, don't do this!" He howled into the hallways, desperately wishing that for once Ada would listen. That the eyes and ears she no doubt had set up throughout this entire complex would relay his message and convince her to stop. He hoped and he prayed and he tried to ignore the small, childish voice gibbering pathetically in the back of his mind; chanting it's too late, it's too late, we're never going to make it.
His running gait felt like the vicious pounding of a jackrabbit's heartbeat - knifing through the silence of the halls as he got ever closer to the cargo bay.
"Why are you showing me this? Ada?" He turned around from the data she had unlocked for him when she didn't answer, surprise jerking him to a fruitless sprint as the emergency doors to the archives closed behind her retreating back, locking him inside. "Ada!"
They came to a close with a final hiss, leaving him in silence until the monitor behind him suddenly flickered to life and Ada appeared upon it. It was an old recording. Not too old, but obviously something that she had prepared for just this very moment. She was smiling sweetly, but there was something else - something different in the smile that gave him pause.
"Ada, what the hell are you doing, we don't have time for this!" Leon yelled aloud, hoping that she was still on the other side of the door and might hear him. Hoping it was just a game.
"Sorry, handsome. Right about now, I should be heading off to finish what I started with our dear friend Albert - and where I'm going, you can't follow. Not this time," the recording began. "Everything you'll need is in this file. Specifics on his plans. Schematics for the contaminant he made from Muller's blood. And finally, Plan B - just in case Plan A doesn't work. But first, just listen to me."
His heart stuttered.
"For a long time now, there's a choice you've needed to make and couldn't - a choice between the life you've been trying to make with Claire, and the life you've made with me," she said, then smiled a small, small smile he had only seen once before in a hotel room in Italy that he'd never forget. "I did what you asked. I picked a side. Now it's time for you to do something for me."
"Ada, don't do this," he whispered.
"Finish our book and forget me, Leon," she said. "I know the first thing you'll do when you get out of this room is chase after me. I love that about you, I do. But I need you to trust me on this one, handsome. I need you to let me go."
She smiled and the image on the monitor flickered ominously. She pressed two fingers to her lips and blew him a cocky kiss that reminded him of their time in Spain playing cat and mouse throughout Saddler's strongholds.
"Goodbye, Leon Scott Kennedy," she said and the image winked out.
He came to a crashing halt at a large window overlooking the cargo bay from a floor or two above. Below, he could see everything speeding ever closer to the climax of Ada's plan. The bombs she had planted blinked cheerfully all around them, and at the cargo bay's core, Sherry was at her knees beside Jake, frantically trying to defuse the bomb. To her right, Piers had Jill by one wrist, her arm wrenched wickedly behind her back as he rammed her into a wall. Before they could collide, she brought her feet up to brace against the wall and launched him backwards, spilling them both across the floor. To Sherry's left, Chris fought against Ada with a grace that quite nearly matched her own speed and stamina. He had never seen anyone keep pace with her quite as well as Chris was in that moment, and it terrified him.
"Son of a bitch!" He snarled and ran to the stairwell at his side, slamming through the door and taking the stairs two at a time as he rushed to stop the inevitable.
"I need you to let me go."
"The virus has truly made you into something else, captain," Ada said through slightly out of breath gasps as she slid this way and that between his strikes, occasionally delivering a high kick or viper-quick jab of her own with little success - all the while lugging the large gun in one hand.
Chris scowled but didn't mention that he wasn't actually utilizing that much of his virus given abilities. He didn't have to use the virus' strength when the woman wasn't actually all that sturdy. Ada Wong had always relied on her wits, her speed, and the element of surprise to overcome her foes in the past, but in an actual fist fight, the human version of Chris Redfield could have taken her just as easily as this version of him. It's just that now, even her quickest movements were like molasses to his eyes.
"What's the gun for, Wong?"
"It's not for Jake, if that's what you're asking," she said as one of his fists just barely missed her collarbone, instead glancing against her shoulder and sending her off balance. He gave her a brief moment to collect herself because the sheer ease with which he was tiring her out was actually making him feel ill. "It's not for you either."
"It's for Wesker," he said. Rage boiled in his blood again but he calmed the tempest long enough to actually focus and listen to her words.
"Yes, captain. It is."
"It won't work," he said as he thrust forward suddenly, his forearm coming up to brace against her neck as he slammed her slender back into a container and pinned her in the air. "You can't kill him with a gun."
She stared at him for a long time, searching him with cunning brown eyes as he held her in place. In the distance, he could hear the elevator bing and realized with a jolt that Westbarl was on his way down. He did his best not to look over and draw attention to it, but Ada must have noticed regardless because in that one moment of distraction, her arm moved in a blur as she drew something from her waste and slammed a syringe deep into the sinews of his forearm, the plunger dropping shortly after. The needle did nothing to deter him immediately, but as the effects from the chemical within momentarily weakened his grasp, Ada dipped beneath his arms and began to run for Westbarl. It took barely fifteen seconds for his system to work the small dose of muscle relaxants out of his body, but a quick look proved that Piers had already slipped free of Jill and was chasing after Ada like a dog after a bone. Just behind him, Jill was hot on his heels so Chris diverted his attention and barreled forward to cross her path, quickly lowering one shoulder to catch her right at the waist and vault her over his head and shoulder. She met the ground with a smack that made his stomach roll, but he had barely began to turn around before she kicked his feet out from under him with a shout.
From his back, he could see Piers exchanging fists with Ada as Westbarl used the distraction to hurry over to the nearest bomb and begin deactivating it. Chris quickly rolled to his feet, content that Piers had Ada under control, and redirected his attention on Jill. Fighting her hurt. It had in Africa and it was definitely worse now that he was stronger. Every blow he delivered left her skin irritated and bruised, dark splotches rising in perfect imitations of his fists. A punch that caught her at her chin left the lips that once upon a time used to smile at him bleeding, and the look she threw him was just flat out furious. Anger and desperation and fear and something else burned in the blue that he could still remember vividly holding his gaze when Jill took his place that fateful night in the Spencer Estate. He hadn't seen as much emotion from her during all his time in captivity, and it made his resolve stumble.
"Jill, don't make me do this!" He struggled to say through clenched teeth, because despite how many times he told himself she was gone, he couldn't help but plea just in case she heard him. She didn't. Punch after punch rocketed his way until finally something broke his focus - the sound of Piers shouting.
"Chris!" Piers yelled, his voice carrying across the field easily and drawing the man's attention. The soldier was slumped against a container back near the elevator, a knife burrowed deep in his shoulder that he dug out with a grimace. Chris spun, deftly dodged another blow from Jill, and then followed Piers' pointing finger until his eyes locked onto the sight of Westbarl trying to dismantle one of the bombs nearby, the barrel of the bizarre looking gun trained on the ill man's unsuspecting head. His heart stopped, his instincts burning thickly in his ears and blood. To his left, Sherry was too focused on her task to notice Westbarl's imminent demise. To his right, Piers was still struggling to regain his balance and get to his feet, and even if he were able, a bolt of lightning in the wrong spot might trigger the bomb that Westbarl was currently elbow deep in. So that left him.
And the sight of Westbarl, sickly and hunched over an active bomb as he tried valiantly to fight a fight he was clearly had no chance of surviving - that made his heart just twist with a fury and need to protect he had only felt with one other person since his changes started.
With a punch that he didn't have time to hold back, he hit Jill just under her jaw bone - sending her sailing through the air and into a motionless heap with a crack that would haunt him for many nights to come. He should have left Westbarl in the ballroom, his thoughts snarled as he stormed across the room in a sprint, time slowing around him as his form blurred into a smear of black in the air and the hammer of Ada's gun raised up to the ready. He slid nimbly to his knees mere seconds later, his back forming a protective shield around the oblivious man as he wound his strong arms around him - his front pressed like a second skin to the kneeling man's back - and braced himself. The gunshot went off not even a second later, silencing the entire room into a sharp and stinging note of stillness all around him. Piers yelled his name and it echoed.
The force of the shot sent him forward, his body momentarily bending the man beneath him in half as Chris' weight pressed down against him. His breath left his lips in a surprised whisper as the bullet from the strange gun lodged itself just right of his upper spinal column and burned. If he hadn't been there to take the bullet, it would've ended up in Westbarl's head - deep in his skull. Instead, it was in Chris. He had been shot before, he thought in a strange daze as he couldn't find the strength to pull up from the body he was crushing below him. He had been shot before, and hell yes it had hurt, but it had never felt like this. Like the sun had been captured and compressed into a small, white-hot bead of agony boiling and spreading beneath his skin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered screaming and the sound of gunfire as the body beneath him wormed out of his hold and pressed strong, familiar hands against his shoulders. His pupils contracted and expanded rapidly, his sight brightening and fading in a blurred, sickening strobe-light effect as Westbarl's face filled the frame of his focus. The man was pulling off his oxygen mask and tossing it to the side as he turned Chris' body and lowered him to the ground so that his cheek rested against the cold marble floor. All the while, Chris could do little to stop it.
His back felt wet. There was a hole, he was sure of it, and it felt as though it were spreading - eating through his skin like wildfire. He could hear burbling, his skin mending and melting repeatedly as the fight went on without him. Fingers brushed against his brow and the man above him whispered into his ear as Chris finally opened his eyes wide enough to take in what was happening.
"Well done, Christopher."
His world kept dipping, but he could just make out the sight of Piers pinning Ada Wong to the ground as Sherry came up beside him, his knee digging into her upper back as he wound his belt around her wrists at the swell of her waist.
"How's Chris?" Piers asked.
"Westbarl's with him," Sherry assured him, both unaware of the man approaching them as Sherry helped ensure Ada didn't struggle free. "When you're done with her, I have an idea on how to deactivate the bomb in Jake's lap. I'll need your help."
With Westbarl's back to him, Chris could see it the moment the man reached behind his coat and pulled out a magnum that Chris was all too familiar with. His heart stilled and his throat seized as he opened his mouth to say something, anything - but nothing came out. And as Westbarl approached his unsuspecting team, Chris' eyes fell down to the face across from him and locked eyes with Ada Wong. They were clear and knowing, and she stared him all the while as Westbarl pulled out the magnum and aimed it at her vulnerable head.
"It's going to be all right," she said, her eyes unafraid and searing - her voice drawing Piers' surprised attention.
"Ada," he gasped as the world slipped from his eyes and into blackness, chased by the sound of thunder.
Leon had just entered the cargo bay when Ada was brought down and pinned by Piers. Leon's pace had slowed, his frantic heart put at ease by the sight of Piers and Sherry subduing the woman peacefully. He breathed a sigh of relief he hadn't realized he had been holding and allowed himself to slow to a jog. His body relaxed a smidgen as the world regained order around him.
And then he looked at Ada and felt his stomach clench. She wasn't fighting or struggling, and it was wrong. She was staring ahead of her, and when Leon followed her gaze, he saw Chris' large frame being maneuvered easily to the ground by Westbarl's gentle guidance - his back marred by a large and smoldering hole of bloody, acidic gore. He frowned, his pace slowing ever so slightly as he watched Westbarl lower his face to Chris' ear and whisper something, his voice too low to hear from so far away.
"Piers," Leon called hesitantly, dismayed when the man didn't hear him. As Westbarl stood and began to walk to where his comrades were pinning Ada Wong to the ground, he picked up his pace. "Piers!"
And then halfway to them, Westbarl brushed the coattails of his suit jacket aside and pulled a magnum free from a holster concealed at the small of his back. Leon began to sprint, his dress shoes loud against the floor of the cargo bay. "Piers!"
Piers turned ever so slightly to look at him, his brows drawn together in confusion before Ada's mouth moved, drawing his attention back down and keeping him distracted from the magnum as it aimed at Ada's head and fired.
"ADA!" Leon screamed, pumping his legs harder, but it was too late. Piers was already scrambling away, his face and torso covered in gore. The young man's boots squealed grotesquely as he scrabbled for purchase in the thick puddle that pooled from the remnants of Ada's head. One look over her shoulder and Sherry was quickly moving forward to grab at Piers' shoulders, pulling the man back and to safety as Leon barreled across the last of the space separating him from Westbarl and launched himself over the corpse of Ada Wong.
The sound that spilled from his lips wasn't human. It was broken and raged with a fury like nothing he had ever heard before. The fist that met Westbarl's face should have put down a man as sickly as him, but Westbarl merely took two staggering steps back, gathered himself up, and smiled with a wickedness Leon had only seen in pictures that belonged to a certain file.
Westbarl opened his mouth, but Leon didn't wait for him. He just lunged forward again, using his momentum to send strike after bone numbing strike at the smirking murderer before him, until it was obvious that the man had no more patience for Leon's furious tirade and began to dodge, dipping beneath and around each blow like water. Leon howled, his fury echoing across the large expanse of the cargo bay like thunder as emotion he hadn't allowed to lose control of in decades burst free from the flood gates, overpowering his mind beneath a maelstrom of rage so vicious, he did not stop even after a viper-quick swipe from the man before him lodged beneath his guard and broke several of his ribs. He didn't even slow, Leon's attacks just coming that much quicker as he danced with the very devil that had stolen Chris Redfield from them all those nights ago.
Their dance finally came to a standstill as Wesker dipped gracefully beneath a swift roundhouse kick and emerged behind him. With a callous blow, he delivered a swift downward punch onto Leon's back, sending his vertebrae into a terrible shuddering as Leon screamed, his body driven to his knees despite his fury. He breathed deeply through his nostrils, his bangs fluttering widely as Wesker circled him and returned to stand in front him - towering and smug. With a large smile, he pulled free the inky black wig from his head. At the squeak of Piers' shoes preparing to move, he drew his magnum again and aimed it at Leon's face, his brows quirked meaningfully at them from above Leon's head.
"Don't be so quick to end our little game, soldier," Wesker said, his southern accent gone. "We still have some time to kill."
And then he reached up with his free hand and deftly brushed free the contacts that had been concealing his eyes all this time. His illness was gone, his body language suddenly strong and deadly once more as he stood at full height before them.
From behind him he could hear Chris wheeze wetly, the sound of the acid rounds in Ada's gun burbling hungrily within his flesh and hissing loudly in the silence. The sound jarred the set of red eyes before him into a blaze, making Leon narrow his eyes before Wesker could hide the reaction. The hammer on the magnum cocked loudly before him, but Leon never stopped his glaring.
"I'll be taking all that belongs to me and leaving. Whether you all remain here when the explosions start is your choice," Wesker said simply, "Although I must admit I'm somewhat hoping you'll pick death all on your own. Christopher would just love that - knowing you all died down here and he could do nothing to stop it."
"Shut your fucking mouth," Piers snarled and stepped forward, only to be stopped by Sherry's sturdy hands at his elbows, begging him to calm down.
Wesker sent the soldier a firm, assessing gaze that ended in a knowing smirk, then returned his focus to the man on his knees before him.
"Funny how life just chases its tail, don't you think, Agent Kennedy?" He tipped his head to the side, his smirk widening. "What, no snide comebacks? I'm disappointed."
Leon paused for a moment, but no matter how deep within himself he plunged, there was nothing left but hatred. He was exhausted, the thin veneer of his temperance and cool demeanor shattered, and so he merely pursed his lips and glowered. The bomb to his left kept ticking down as Wesker pressed the magnum's barrel to his forehead and forced his gaze upward as he appraised him.
"Ah yes, I can see it in you, too," Wesker said and gracefully leaned down so that they were nearly face to face, the gun barrel still present as he whisper lowly in his ear. "You're cut from the same cloth. You would fit quite nicely into my new world, if you would only ask."
And then he pulled back, clearly expectant as he waited. On the bombs ticked to doomsday beside him, and in his peripherals, he could see Piers and Sherry moving as subtly as possible. So he bought them time and said, "Careful, Wesker. Give enough men like us that sort of power and you won't be standing on top too much longer."
Wesker snorted. "If you believe Christopher truly has any chance of besting my control, you know nothing of my power."
"Really?" Leon countered. "Because the way I see it, he'll wake up and you'll tell him he followed your every order, but we both know what you're really doing here, Albert. You're manipulating a man stronger than yourself into believing that he's weak, and when in history has that ever ended well for men like you?"
The words had Wesker towering over him, his body silhouetted by the lights above and leaving nothing but the ominous red glowing of his eyes behind.
"I am no man," Wesker sneered, then adjusted his aim and fired - a torture shot. The bullet tore straight through Leon's old bum shoulder just as the bomb in Jake's lap was deactivated, the electricity from the hardware rerouted from the hand Piers had atop it and out the other he had aimed directly at Wesker. As the bolt crossed through the air, electricity channeled from the other bombs in the cargo bay and sprung up to meet it until finally the bolt struck Wesker in the chest, hard, and sent him flying through several containers. Each destroyed container let loose a dense puff of mist that immediately set off the alarms in the facility.
"Contagion released in Cargo Bay C. Please evacuate, contagion released in Cargo Bay C. Please evacuate, contagion released in Cargo Bay C," ARTEMIS repeated pleasantly as the lights all went out and were replaced by bright, flashing red ones. Just as quickly as the mist was released, the floor split in two and grating appeared, sucking the mist away. The warnings blared on regardless.
"Move, move, move!" Piers yelled, and Leon barely had time to look back before Sherry ducked under his arm and pulled him to his feet. He wobbled, but his footing held, and together they maneuvered back to see Piers rip Jake free of the duck-tape and useless bomb. He manhandled the unconscious ex-mercenary into a successful piggyback, and just as Piers readjusted his grip, Leon heard Wesker barreling towards them.
"Leon!" Piers yelled, but before the blonde BOW could reach them, Jill Valentine suddenly slammed into Wesker from the side, sending him off balance as she vaulted her body up onto his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his head, and used her body weight to pull him over and crush his head into the ground.
"Run!" She screamed raggedly, her hair a golden blaze around her face as she ordered them to flee. "Take Muller and Chris, and get out of here!"
The alarms blared as Sherry shuffled herself and Leon to Piers' side.
"Do you got him?" She yells over the chaos and Piers nodded fiercely, but when Sherry moved to head for the elevator, Piers' grabbed her quickly by the elbow, his eyes shocked and confused.
"The captain!" He said as if she were thinking of walking outside with no clothes on, and when Leon sees the grimace that passes over Sherry's face, he knows what's going to happen. They have two unconscious men, one who can't stand, and only two able bodied people. Who knows how long Valentine will remain in control or successfully distract Wesker, and of them, Chris is the one person who not only has the best chances of surviving Wesker should he be left behind, he's also the one they don't know if they can trust.
Sherry swallowed as if she had an unpleasant taste on her tongue and opened her mouth to speak just as the still active bombs went off in the other parts of the facility. The building quaked and the lights flickered, the alarms blaring even louder now as the sprinklers in the facility began to rain down upon them. Water rolled off her smooth skin as she looked at Piers' with a pained expression and said, "We can't bring him with us."
"The hell we can't!" Piers snarled.
"How, Piers? Leon can barely walk and Jake's unconscious on your back. Of us, Chris is the only one we know that if we leave him, Wesker won't kill him. I don't like it any more than you do, but we're running out of time and we have to make a choice. We can't bring him with us, and if he were awake, he'd be telling you that himself."
Seconds ticked by and Leon could see Piers' throat working as he stumbled through possible reasons of why this was wrong, why they're wrong about Chris, but Leon sees it the moment Piers caves. With one look back at the prone and bleeding form behind them, Piers starts running toward the elevators with Sherry and Leon right behind him. The world keeps fading in and out for Leon as something hot and wet oozes sluggishly down his chest and trails over his broken ribs. There's blood in his mouth and oozing from his nose, and as the elevator doors close, he can see Jill Valentine being thrown across the room. Her back meets a storage container so hard the metal encasing gets dented, and she doesn't get up - but that doesn't stop Wesker. He's already running for the elevator, his legs carrying him across the cargo bay with unnatural speed, but by the time he even gets close, the elevator is already slipping out of sight. The last thing Leon sees before he loses all sight of the cargo bay below is Chris' broken and unconscious body - silent and left behind.
Wesker's angry howling, however, follows him into unconsciousness.