First things first, if this book gets 40 reviews by the end of the week, I will upload a bonus chapter. Just 9 more reviews are remaining, so please review it by 9:30 PM.
*****
Atlas turned, walking back to the center of the cabin. He stood between the corpses of the Licker and Rain, a bridge between the living and the dead.
"Me?" Atlas spread his arms. "Well, I think you already know what I am from my appearance."
He looked at his pale hands, turning them over.
"I am a zombie. Or I was one before. I died in that lab. The virus took me."
Alice watched him, her hand touching her lips where he had kissed her. "But you're not like them. You talk. You think."
"I am something more," Atlas agreed, his voice darkening. "I am what happens when impossible works."
He looked at them, his silhouette framed by the passing tunnel lights.
"You can call me Atlas Cruor."
He turned his gaze back to Alice.
"It's your turn, beautiful lady," he said, his face returning to a stoic, unreadable mask.
Alice swallowed hard, trying to regain her composure. "I'm Alice. Just Alice."
Atlas nodded. "Just Alice. For now."
The train began to decelerate. The screech of brakes echoed through the tunnel.
"Okay," Atlas said, his tone shifting to business. "We have arrived at the surface. Move if you want to get out. The mansion blast doors are waiting."
He turned away from them, scanning the floor near Spence's corpse.
There it was. The prize.
The silver briefcase lay open on the floor, next to a black tactical backpack.
Atlas crouched down. He ignored the gore and focused on the contents. Inside the foam inserts sat the spiral vials: Ten Green T-Virus vials and Seven Blue Anti-Virus vials.
'Jackpot,' he thought.
He snapped the briefcase shut.
He glanced at the digital keypad on the lock. It was engaged.
Alice stepped forward. "We need the code to open it. Spence never told us—"
Atlas didn't even look up.
His enhanced vision zoomed in on the keypad.
He saw the residue of sweat, water and the faint, reddish smear of blood on four specific keys. He analyzed the residue signature fading from the plastic.
Top left. Bottom right. Middle. Center.
The pattern formed in his mind instantly.
'1-2-1-7,' Atlas muttered.
He didn't bother opening it to check. He knew he was right. Even if he was in the wrong, it doesn't imply that he couldn't have broken it open.
He shoved the heavy silver briefcase into the black backpack, zipped it up, and slung it over one shoulder.
He stood up, adjusting the strap of the bag. He looked at Alice and Matt, who were watching him with wide, curious eyes. They looked like children watching a magician perform a dangerous trick.
The Alexia Express hissed as the pneumatic brakes engaged, bringing the silver bullet train to a final, shuddering halt. The screech of metal on metal died away, leaving a heavy silence in the underground depot—a silence that felt louder than the screams they had left behind in the Hive.
"Well?" Atlas gestured to the open sliding door with a sweeping, theatrical motion of his pale hand. "After you."
He was a gentleman monster, after all.
Alice stared at him for a heartbeat, her blue eyes searching his stoic, white face for a crack in the armor. She found none. Just that terrifying, glowing intelligence. She nodded slowly, adrenaline fading into exhaustion, and stepped onto the platform.
Matt stumbled out after her, clutching his shoulder. His skin was pale, sweat beading on his forehead. The infection was spreading.
They moved like ghosts, ascending the metal stairs that led up to the mansion's hidden laboratory entrance. They walked like lost children, their minds fractured by the horrors of the night—zombies, lasers, Licker, and now... Him.
They reached the grand foyer of the Spencer Mansion. The early morning light was just beginning to bleed through the heavy curtains, casting long, dust-mote filled beams across the polished marble floor. It was serene. It was safe.
Or so it seemed.
Alice took a deep breath of the stale mansion air. "We made it," she whispered, turning to look at Atlas. "We're out."
She expected him to be checking the perimeter. Or perhaps looting the room.
She didn't expect him to be standing inches from her.
Alice gasped, backing up, but her back hit the ornate wooden pillar of the grand staircase. Atlas had closed the distance in silence, moving with the predatory grace of a panther.
"Atlas?" she breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs.
He didn't speak. He simply looked down at her. His grey eyes were burning, swirling with a mix of hunger and possession that made her knees feel strangely weak.
The T-Virus inside her—dormant but present—hummed in resonance. It recognized him. It didn't see a monster.
Atlas reached out, his hand sliding around her waist. His grip was firm, possessive, pulling her flush against his hard, cold chest. The shredded remains of his uniform felt rough against her bare arms, but the body beneath was like steel.
"You did well, Alice," Atlas murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her spine. "You survived the game."
Before she could process the compliment, he claimed her.
He lowered his head and captured her lips.
It wasn't a quick peck. It was a searing, deliberate kiss. It was the kind of kiss that claimed ownership. His lips were cold, contrasting sharply with the feverish heat rising in her own body, but they were soft, skillful.
Alice's eyes went wide for a fraction of a second, her mind trying to rebel. He's a zombie. He's a monster.
But her body betrayed her. Subconsciously, her hands rose, gripping the lapels of his uniform. Her eyes fluttered shut. The hormones within her responded to his proximity, flooding her with a dizzying rush of endorphins. She melted into him, her lips parting slightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
For fifteen seconds, the world outside didn't exist. There was only the taste of him—ozone, power, and something dangerously masculine.
Atlas broke the kiss slowly, lingering for a moment as if savoring the taste of her compliance. He didn't let go of her waist.
Instead, his hand slid lower, cupping the curve of her firm glutes through the red dress. He gave a squeeze—not rough, but firm enough to make her gasp.
He leaned down, his cold breath tickling the sensitive skin of her ear. He grazed the lobe with his sharp teeth, a playful, predatory nip that sent shivers cascading down her spine.
"See you in a day or two, babe," he whispered, the endearment sounding strange yet perfect in his deep voice.
Alice blinked, dazed, her lips swollen and red. "What... what do you mean?"
She opened her eyes to ask him what is going on? Where he was going. To ask about the cure.
But she was talking to the air.
ZIP.
There was a sound like a vacuum collapsing. A displacement of air that ruffled her blonde hair.
Atlas was gone.
He hadn't run away. He had simply vanished from her visual spectrum, his Agility of 23 propelling him out of the mansion before her neurons could even get rid of wild moments.
"Aaaaa... Ughhh!"
The scream shattered the romantic tension instantly.
Alice spun around. Matt had collapsed to his knees in the center of the foyer. He was clutching his shoulder, his body convulsing. The veins in his neck were black, pulsing violently.
"Matt!"
Alice rushed to him, sliding on her knees across the marble. She grabbed his face. His eyes were changing—the iris turning a sickly yellow.
"The cure," Matt gasped, gripping her wrist. "Alice... the case..."
Alice's blood ran cold. She looked around frantically. "The briefcase..."
It was gone.
Atlas had taken it. He had the T-Virus. He had the Anti-Virus. He had left them with nothing but their lives.
"That bastard," Alice whispered, a mix of fury and despair crashing over her. "He took it. He took everything."
CRASH!
The heavy oak double doors of the mansion exploded inward.
Blinding white floodlights poured into the dim hall, blinding them.
"GO! GO! GO!"
"SECURE THE PERIMETER!"
Men in white bio-hazard suits and heavy black tactical armor swarmed into the room like locusts. They bore the insignia of the U.B.C.S. (Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service).
Before Alice could even reach for her gun, three laser sights were dotting her chest.
"Freeze! Down on the ground! Now!"
Two soldiers tackled Matt, pinning him to the floor. Another two grabbed Alice, twisting her arms behind her back. She struggled, kicking out, but she was exhausted, and lost in sudden swifting emotions and they were fresh.
"Let him go!" Alice screamed. "He's injured! He needs help!"
A man in a pristine white lab coat walked calmly through the chaos. He wasn't wearing a mask. He adjusted his rimless glasses, looking down at the tablet in his hand.
Dr. Alexander White, head of the Raccoon City subsurface research division.
He glanced at Matt, who was writhing on the floor, his mutation accelerating.
"Mutation rate confirmed," Dr. White noted coolly. "T-Virus infection is critical. He is bonding... but barely."
He turned to his lead soldier. "Prepare that one for the Nemesis Project. He has the physiology for the Ne-α parasite implant."
"No!" Matt shouted as they dragged him away. "Alice! Alice!"
Dr. White turned his gaze to Alice. He studied her for a moment, looking at the biometric readings streaming from the Red Queen's backup.
"And her?" the soldier asked.
"Put the girl in quarantine," Dr. White ordered, tapping his screen. "Initiate Project Alice. I want to know why she hasn't turned yet. Her blood is... promising."
As the soldiers dragged Alice toward the waiting containment van, Dr. White swiped to a new screen on his tablet.
It was a grainy freeze-frame from the train station security camera. It showed a white-skinned figure with silver-white claws, decapitating a Licker with a single blow.
"But what about Subject A-1?" Dr. White murmured, his voice trembling with scientific lust.
He looked up at the broken window where Atlas had vanished.
"Where is he?" Dr. White demanded, shouting at his team. "The Red Queen's data indicates a new mutation. Intelligent. Verbal. Supernatural agility. He is the Crown Jewel! Possibly the greatest biological leap since the Progenitor Virus itself!"
He turned to the tactical commander.
"Send Bravo Team. Send the Hunters. Send everything," Dr. White commanded, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses. "I want him found. I want him captured. Bring him to me... alive."
"Alice!" Matt's voice faded as he was thrown into a separate van.
Alice struggled one last time, looking back at the empty spot where Atlas had kissed her.
He knew, she realized. He knew they were coming. That's why he left.
A soldier jammed a needle into her neck.
"Sleep now," a cold voice whispered.
The world went black.
---
The Arklay Mountains – Dense Forest Perimeter.
Time: 05:25 AM.
The forest was a blur of green and brown, smeared into streaks of color by the velocity of the predator moving through it.
Atlas ran.
He didn't run like a man. He ran like a vehicle. His high Agility allowed him to traverse the uneven terrain of the Arklay Mountains at speeds pushing eighty kilometers per hour. He vaulted over fallen logs without breaking stride, his boots barely touching the moss before propelling him forward again.
The air was crisp, filled with the scent of pine needles and damp earth. It was a refreshing change from the stale, recycled air of the Hive and the chemical stench of the train.
****
Thus, we conclude Volume One of [Resident Evil].
So, has anyone realized where the story is going? Now Umbrella knew who Atlas is. How and why a certain Chinese spy/agent coming to Raccoon City.