Leon found ada in the kennel, straining to lever up the rusted manhole cover that the reporter had told them about. She'd turned up a crowbar from somewhere and had it wedged beneath the thick iron plate, her well-defined biceps lightly sheened with sweat as she worked the bar. She'd managed to raise the cover about an inch, but let it drop back into place as he walked in, the metallic clang loud in the cold, empty room. Before he could say anything, she lay the crowbar on the cement floor and looked up at him with a strained half-smile, brushing at her rust-dirty hands.

"I'm glad you're here. I don't think I'm strong enough to do this by myself..."

He hadn't been sure before, but the helpless look she gave him cinched it; she was playing him, or trying to. He'd known Ada for all of twenty minutes, but he doubted seriously that she'd ever been helpless about anything.

"Looks like you're doing just fine," he said, holster-ing the Magnum but not making any move toward the manhole. He crossed his arms, frowning slightly. He wasn't angry, just curious.

"Besides, what's the hurry? I thought you wanted to talk to the reporter. About John, your Umbrella friend."

The woman-in-distress look melted away and her delicate features turned cool and hard, but not in a bad way; it was as though she was letting her real self show, the strong and self-assured Ada he'd first met. Leon could tell that he'd surprised her by not rushing to her aid and was glad to see it; he had enough to worry about without being manipulated by a mysteri- ous stranger. She'd been very careful to avoid his questions, but it was time for Ms. Wong to explain a few things. Ada stood up, meeting his gaze evenly. "You heard him - he wasn't going to tell us anything. And with this place as dangerous as it is, I don't really want to stand around waiting for him to develop a con-science..." She dropped her gaze, her voice softening."... and I don't even know if John's in Raccoon. But I do know that he's not here - and I want to leave before the station's completely overrun."

It sounded good, but for some reason, he had the feeling that she was holding something back. For a few seconds, he struggled to think of a polite way to get her to open up - then decided to hell with it; under the circumstances, social graces would have to be suspended.

"What's going on, Ada? Do you know something that you're not telling me?"

She looked at him again, and again, he had the feeling that he'd surprised her, but her cool, dark gaze was as unreadable as ever. "I just want to get out of here," she said, and the sincerity of her tone was impossible to deny. If he didn't believe anything else she'd said, he had to believe that much.

And I wish it was that easy, but there's Claire, and even Ben, our asshole friend, and God knows how many others... Leon shook his head. "I can't leave. Like I said, I may be the only cop left around here. If there are still people in the building, I have to at least try to help them. And I think it'd be best if you came with me."

Ada gave him another one of her half-smiles.

"I appreciate your concern, Leon, but I can take care of myself."

He didn't doubt it, but he also didn't want to see her abilities tested. Granted, he was pretty untested himself, but he'd been trained to deal with crisis situations, it was his job.

And be honest with yourself - you lost Claire, you couldn't help Branagh, and Ben Bertolucci could give a rat's ass for your protection skills; you don't want to fail with Ada on top of all that. And you don't want to be alone.

Ada seemed to know what he was thinking. Before he could come up with a convincing argument, she stepped forward and put one slender hand on his arm, the humor fading from her bright eyes.

"I know you want to do your job here, but you said it yourself - we have to find a way out of Raccoon, try and get outside help. And the sewers are probably the best chance we've got..."

The light, gentle touch surprised him and sent an electric flutter through his belly, an unexpected flush of warmth that left him feeling confused and uncer- tain. He managed to keep his reaction from showing, but just barely. Ada continued, frowning thoughtfully. "How about This - help me with the manhole cover, and let's see what's down there. If it looks dangerous, I'll come with you... but if it's not bad - well, we can talk about what to do next."

He wanted to protest, but the truth was, he couldn't make her do anything she didn't want to do and he wanted very much for her to know that he wasn't some overbearing macho type, that he was receptive to compromise...

... and does the name "John" ring a bell? This isn't a date for Chrissake, stop thinking with your hor-mones.

Feeling awkward even thinking about it with her hand still on his arm, Leon stepped away, nodding briskly. Together, they crouched down next to the manhole. Leon picked up the crowbar and jammed one end beneath the lid; as he pulled back, Ada pushed on the bar, and with a heavy grating sound the thick metal plate came up. Leon put his back into it and heaved the lid to one side, clearing the opening -

- and both of them recoiled back from the smell that bellowed out of the dark hole, a choking, dark stench of blood and piss and vomit. "Gah, what is that?" Leon coughed. Ada sat back on her heels, one hand pressed to her mouth. "The bodies from the garage, they must have dumped them down here..."

Before he could ask what she was talking about, a scream of pure terror echoed through the basement halls, filtering through the closed door. The cry went on and on, a man's voice, the panicked scream suddenly changing to a gurgling shriek of pain.

The reporter.

Leon locked gazes with Ada, saw the same startled realization flash across her face and then they were both up and running, pulling out their weapons and sprinting through the door before the echoes died.

I left him, I shouldn't have left him...

They ran down the corridor for the cell block, guilt driving Leon to run faster than he thought he could. Someone or something had gotten to Bertolucci and had passed right behind his back to do it.

Sherry stood in Mr. Irons's office, rubbing at her good luck pendant and wishing that Claire would come back. She had crawled through a dozen dusty tunnels to get away from the monster and to lead it away from Claire, and was pretty sure it had worked - she hadn't heard it again, and had come back to find that Claire had left; if the monster had found her, she would have been dead and ripped apart.

But she's not here. Nobody is...

Sherry sat on the edge of a low table in the middle of the room, wondering what she should do. She'd gotten used to being alone, and hadn't even realized how lonely she'd been, but meeting Claire had changed that. Sherry wanted to see her again, she wanted to be with other people, she wanted her parents so bad that it made her ache. Even Mr. Irons would be okay, although Sherry didn't like him; she'd only met him a couple of times but he was weird, showy and fake - and his office was creepy besides. Still, she'd gladly put up with him if it meant she didn't have to be alone anymore... Footsteps. In the hall outside of the office. Sherry stood up and ran to the open door that led back to the armor room, hoping it was Claire and ready to sprint for cover if it wasn't. She ducked around the door frame and held her breath, staring at the stuffed tiger in the hall and silently praying. The outer door opened and closed. Muffled steps on the carpet, moving slowly, and she tensed to run, at the same time trying to muster up enough courage to sneak a look...

"Sherry?" Claire! "I'm here!"

She ran back into the office and there was Claire,

her whole face lit up with a beaming smile. Sherryflew into her open arms, so happy to see her that she wanted to cry."I was looking for you," Claire said, holding her tightly. "Don't run off like that again, okay?"Claire knelt in front of her, still smiling, but Sherry could see the worry behind the smile and in her cool gray eyes. "I'm sorry," Sherry said. "I had to, or the monster would have come." "What does it look like?" Claire asked, her smile fading. "Does it look - kind of red, with claws?"Sherry swallowed heavily. "The inside-out men! You saw one, didn't you?"

Incredibly, Claire grinned, shaking her head.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I saw, an inside-out man... good description."

She looked at Sherry more seriously, frowning.

" 'Men'? There are more of them?" Sherry nodded. "Yes, but they aren't anything like the monster. I only saw him once, from behind, but he's a man, a giant man..."Claire seemed excited. "Bald? Wearing a long coat?"No, he had hair, brown hair. And one of his arms was all screwed up, a lot longer than the other one." Claire sighed. "Terrific. Raccoon's got something for everyone, sounds like..."

She reached out and took Sherry's hand, squeezing it. "... and that's all the more reason that you should stay with me. You've done a really good job of taking care of yourself, and you've been very brave, but until we find your parents, I feel like it's my job for now, to watch out for you. And if the monster comes, I'll just kick its ass, okay?"

Sherry laughed, surprised into it. She liked that Claire didn't talk down to her. She nodded, and Claire squeezed her hand again.

"Good. So we've got zombies, inside-out men, and a monster. And a big bald guy... Sherry, do you know what happened to Raccoon? How this all got started? Anything you can tell me, anything at all - it could be important." Sherry frowned, thinking. "Well, there were a bunch of murders last May, or June I think - like ten people got killed. And then they stopped, but then maybe a week ago, somebody got attacked." Claire nodded encouragingly. "Okay. Did more people start getting attacked, or... what did the police do?"

Sherry shook her head, wishing she could be more

helpful. "I don't know. Right before that girl got attacked, my mother called from work really upset, and told me that I couldn't leave the house. Mrs. Willis - that's our next-door neighbor - she came over and cooked dinner for me, and that's how I heard about that girl. Mom called again the next day, and told me that she and Dad were stuck at the plant and wouldn't be home for a while - and then like three days ago, she called again and told me to come here. I went to see if Mrs. Willis would come with me, but her house was dark and empty. I guess things had already gotten pretty bad by then." Claire was staring at her intently. "You were alone all that time? Even before you got to the station?" Sherry nodded. "Well yeah, but I stay alone a lot. My parents are both scientists; their work is impor-tant, and sometimes they can't stop in the middle of what they're doing. And my mother always says that I'm very self-sufficient, when I want to be." "Do you know what kind of work your parents do? At Umbrella?" Claire was still watching her closely. "They develop cures for things, for diseases," Sher-ry said proudly. "And make medicines, like serums that hospitals use..."

She trailed off, noticing that Claire seemed dis- tracted suddenly, her gaze far away. It was a look she had seen plenty of times before, on both of her parents' faces - and it meant that they weren't really listening anymore. But as soon as she stopped talking, Claire refocused on her, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder - and for some stupid reason, that made Sherry want to cry again.

Because she's listening to me. Because she wants to watch out for me now. "Your mother's right," Claire said gently, "you're very self-sufficient, and that you've made it this far means that you're also very strong. That's good, because we're both going to have to be strong, to make it out of here." Sherry felt her eyes go wide. "What do you mean? Leave the station? But there are zombies all over the place, and I don't know where my parents are, what if they need help or they're looking for me..." "Sweetie, I'm sure your folks are just fine," Claire said quickly. "They're probably still at the plant, hiding and safe, just like you were - waiting for people to come from outside of the city, to, to make everything better..." "You mean kill everything," Sherry said. "I'm twelve, you know, I'm not a baby." Claire smiled. "Sorry. Yeah, to kill everything. But until the good guys come, we're on our own. And the best thing we can do, the smartest thing, is to get out of their way - to get as far out of their way as possible. You're right, the streets aren't safe, but maybe we can get a car..."

It was Claire's turn to trail off. She stood up and walked toward the big desk at the far end of the office, looking around as she went.

"Maybe Chief Irons left his car keys here, or another weapon, something we can use..."

Claire saw something on the floor behind the desk. She crouched down and Sherry hurried after her, as much to stay close as to see what she'd found. She already knew that she didn't want to lose her again, no matter what else happened. "There's blood here," Claire said softly, so softlythat Sherry thought she hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"So?"

Claire looked up at the plain tan wall, frowning, then back down at the big drying splotch of red on the floor. "It's still wet, for one thing. And see the way it's just kind of cut off? There should be some on the wall here..."

She rapped on the dark wood trim that lined the wall, then on the wall itself. There was an obvious difference; a dull thump from the trim, but the wall sounded hollow. "Is there a room back there?" Sherry asked. "I don't know, it sounds like it. And it would explain where he took... where he took off to earli-er. Chief Irons."

She glanced up at Sherry as she started to feel along the baseboards, running her hands up the wall and pushing at it. "Sherry, look around the desk, see if you can find like a switch or a lever. My guess is it would be hidden somewhere, maybe in one of the drawers..."

Sherry started to move behind the desk and tripped, her foot sliding on a handful of pencils that she hadn't seen. She grabbed at the desktop, trying to catch her balance, but still came down pretty hard on her bare knees.

"Ow!"

Claire was next to her right away, putting an armaround her shoulders. "Are you okay?" "Yeah. I just... hey! Look!"

Her bruised knees forgotten, Sherry pointed at the switch under the top drawer of the desk, set into a small metal plate. It looked like a light switch, but it had to be for the secret door, she just knew it.;

I found it!

Claire reached out and flipped the switch and behind them, a section of the wall a few feet across slid smoothly upwards, disappearing into the ceiling and exposing a dimly lit room lined with oversized bricks. Cool, damp air breezed into the office; it was a secret passage, just like in the movies. Together, they stood and stepped toward the open- ing, Claire holding Sherry back with one arm until she'd looked first. The small room was totally empty - three brick walls and a stained wood floor, and only about half the size of the office. The fourth wall was dominated by a big old-fashioned elevator gate, the kind that pushed to one side. "Are we going to take it?" Sherry asked. She was excited but nervous, too. Claire had taken her gun out. She crouched down next to Sherry and smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile, and Sherry knew what was coming before Claire said a word.

"Sweetie, I think it would be safest if I went and looked around first, and you stayed here..." "But you said we should stay together! You said we could find a car and leave! What if the monster comes back and you're not here, or you get killed?"

Claire hugged her, but Sherry felt almost sick with helpless anger. She was going to tell her not to worry, that the monster wouldn't come, that nothing bad would happen and then she was going to leave anyway.

Stupid grownup lies...

Claire leaned back, smoothing Sherry's hair away from her face. "I don't blame you for being scared. I'm scared, too. This is a bad situation and hon-estly, I don't know what's going to happen. But I want to do the right thing by you, and that means that I'm not going to take you into a situation where you could get hurt, not if I can help it." Sherry swallowed back tears, trying again. "But I want to come with you... what if you don't come back?" "I'm going to come back," Claire said firmly, "I promise. And if... if I don't, I want you to hide again, like before. Somebody will come, help is going to come soon, and they'll find you."

At least she was being honest; Sherry didn't like it, not at all, but at least there was that and from the look on her face, Sherry could see that there was nothing she could say to change her mind. She could be a baby about it, or she could accept it. "Be careful," she whispered, and Claire hugged her again before standing and moving toward the eleva- tor. She pushed a button next to the gate and there was a low, soft hum; after a few seconds an elevator car rose into view, coming to a gentle stop. Claire pulled the gate open and stepped inside, turning for a last look at Sherry. "Stay here, sweetie," she said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Sherry forced herself to nod and Claire let the gate close. She touched something inside the elevator and the car went down, her smiling, strong face descending out of sight, leaving Sherry by herself in the cold, dark passage. Sherry sat down on the dusty floor and hugged her knees close to her body, rocking herself slowly. Claire was brave and smart, she'd be back soon, she had to come back soon... "I want my mommy," Sherry whispered, but there was nobody to hear. She was alone again, the thing she wanted least of all.

But I'm strong. I'm strong, and I can wait.

She rested her chin on one knee, touching the necklace her mother had given her for good luck, and started to wait for Claire to come back.