Underworld - By S. D. Perry Page 0,3

mirror, saw that at least one of the sedans had put a flasher on the roof. Maybe they were cops, which would really suck.

Umbrella's job of spin control had been thorough -

- thanks to them, every cop in the country probably believed that their small team was at least partly responsible for what had happened to Raccoon. The

S.T.A.R.S. were being played, too - some of the higher-ups had sold out, but the agents in the trenches probably had no idea that their organization had become a puppet of the pharmaceutical company -

-which makes it a hell of a lot harder to shoot back.

No one on their makeshift team wanted innocents to get hurt; being misled by Umbrella wasn't a crime, and if the sedan teams were cops... "No antennae, no warning, not cops!" Leon called, and John had time to feel about a second's worth of relief before he saw the barricades looming in front of them, the roadwork sign propped next to the blocked street. He saw the white circle of a man's face above an orange vest, the man holding a sign that said "Slow," the man dropping the sign and diving for cover...... and it would've been funny except they were doing eighty and had maybe three seconds before they hit. "Hang on!" John screamed, and Claire pushed her legs against the van wall, saw David grab hold of Rebecca, Leon snatching at the handle -

-and the van was screeching, jerking, and bucking like a wild horse, spinning sideways...... and Claire actually felt open space beneath the right side of the van as her body was compressed to the left, the back of her neck crunching painfully against the tire well.

- oh hell

David shouted something but Claire didn't hear it over the squealing brakes, didn't understand until David dove to the right, Rebecca scrambling right next to him -and wham, the van dropped back to the ground with a terrific bounce and John seemed to have it under control again, but there was still the piercing screech of locked brakes coming from...

CRASH!

The explosion of metal and shattering glass behind them was so close that Claire's heart skipped a beat. She turned, looked out the back with the others and saw that one of the cars had barreled into a roadwork barricade - a barricade they'd probably come within a second or two of bashing into themselves. She caught just a glimpse of a crumpled hood, of broken windows and a stream of oily smoke, and then the second sedan was blocking her view, shrieking around the corner and continuing the chase. "Sorry 'bout that," John called back to them, sounding anything but; he seemed wired with adrenaline-pumped glee. In the few weeks since she and Leon had joined up with the fugitive ex-S.T.A.R.S., she'd discovered that John would make jokes about anything. It was simul- taneously his most endearing and most annoying trait. "Everyone alright?" David asked, and Claire nod-ded, saw Rebecca do the same. "Took a whack but I'm okay," Leon said, rubbing his arm with a pained expression. "But I don't think..."

BAM! Whatever Leon didn't think was cut off by the powerful blast that slammed into the back of the van. Still most of a block away, the sedan's passenger had fired a shotgun at them; a few inches higher and the pellets would have come in through the window. "John, change of plans," David called as the van swerved, his cool, authoritative voice rising over the noise of the screaming engines. "We're in their sights..."

Before he could finish, John took a hard left. Rebecca fell backwards, nearly crashing into Claire. The van was now headed down a quiet suburban street. "Hold on to your butts," John called over his shoulder. Chill night air whipped through the van, dark houses flying by as John picked up speed. Leon and David were already reloading, crouched behind the metal half-door. Claire exchanged a look with Rebecca, who looked as unhappy about their situa- tion as she felt. Rebecca Chambers was ex-S.T.A.R.S., she'd worked with Claire's brother, Chris, as well as undertaking a recent Umbrella operation with David and John, also ex-S.T.A.R.S. - but the young woman had been trained as a medic with a background in biochemistry. Marksmanship wasn't her forte - even Claire was a better shot - and she was the only person in the van who hadn't had any real training... unless you count surviving Raccoon. Claire shuddered involuntarily as John took a hard