Kindly remember to add this new work to your libraries."Zenith of Desire: The Hollywood Incubus"
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*****
"I don't know what you are," Chris said, offering a tired, blood-stained hand. "And right now, I don't care. I'm just damn glad you're on our side."
Atlas gripped Chris's hand firmly. "I'm the guy who wants to go home, Chris. Let's leave it at that."
"Let's get out of here quickly," Barry urged, looking around the destroyed lab. "Wait... look at the wall. Wesker is gone."
Atlas turned.
The spot where the Tyrant had thrown Albert Wesker was empty. The console was smashed, and there was a heavy smear of blood on the white wall, but the body was missing.
"Isn't this guy dead yet?" Barry asked, aiming his Python at the shadows. "He had a hole in his chest the size of a dinner plate."
Atlas walked over to the bloodstain. He touched it. It was still warm.
'T-Virus prototype,' Atlas thought. 'He injected himself beforehand. The Tyrant didn't kill him; it resurrected him.'
Originally, Atlas had planned to double-tap Wesker—put a Magnum round in his brain just to be sure and collect the XP. But the slippery traitor had dragged himself away while they were distracted by the boss fight.
"Don't worry about him," Atlas lied smoothly, turning back to the group. "If he's not dead, he's crawling into a hole to die. We have bigger problems. We need to leave before the fail-safes kick in."
"The elevator is this way," Chris said.
"Go," Atlas commanded. "I'll cover the rear."
As Chris and Barry rushed toward the exit corridor, Atlas lagged behind slightly.
They passed through the hall of stasis tanks—the "Hall of Sleepers." Inside the reinforced glass, Hunters and Chimeras floated in suspended animation.
Atlas didn't walk past them.
He raised his Lightning Hawk Magnum.
"No loose ends," he whispered.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
He moved with ruthless efficiency. Two shots per tank. One to break the glass, one to scramble the brain of the creature inside before it could wake up.
He turned the corridor into a shooting gallery. Explosive rounds detonated inside the tanks, turning the specimens into wet confetti. He wasn't just cleaning up; he was farming. Every dead monster was power he would need for the future.
"Atlas! Move it!" Barry shouted from the elevator door.
"Coming," Atlas replied, holstering his smoking gun.
They regrouped with the others in the upper control room. Jill, Rebecca, Enrico, Richard, and Kenneth were waiting, anxiety etched on their faces.
Suddenly, the red emergency lights began to strobe. A siren wailed, cutting through the facility.
{ WARNING. SELF-DESTRUCT SYSTEM ACTIVATED. }
{ ALL PERSONNEL EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. ALL SECURITY LOCKS RELEASED. }
{ DETONATION IN T-MINUS TEN MINUTES. }
"Wesker," Barry spat. "He must have activated the self-destruct from a remote terminal."
"Isn't he dead?" Jill asked, bewildered. "Did he turn into a monster too?"
"He's something else now," Atlas said grimly. "But he just did us a favor. The security locks are open. That means the helipad access is clear."
"Where do we go?" Kenneth asked, clutching his bandaged arm.
"The main elevator takes us directly to the surface," Enrico said, taking command despite his injuries. "We need to contact our pilot. Does anyone have a working radio?"
"Mine is dead," Chris said.
Enrico grabbed the facility's hardline emergency radio. "Brad! Brad Vickers! This is Captain Marini! Respond!"
Static hissed through the room. Then, a shaky, panicked voice broke through.
"C-Captain? Is that you? Oh god, I thought you were all dead! I'm low on fuel, I was about to turn back!"
"Brad, listen to me!" Enrico shouted. "We are at the mansion's main airstrip. The facility is set to blow in ten minutes! Get your ass down here now!"
"I'm nearby! I see the flares! I'll be there in two minutes! Don't die on me!"
"Let's move!" Atlas shouted.
They ran.
They crowded into the heavy industrial elevator. The ride up felt agonizingly slow. The siren wailed continuously, a countdown to their extinction.
{ T-MINUS FIVE MINUTES. }
The elevator breached the surface.
The cool night air hit their faces. They were on a hidden helipad behind the mansion, surrounded by the dark forest.
The sound of rotor blades thumping against the air was the sweetest sound they had ever heard.
The S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team helicopter descended from the darkness, its searchlight blinding them. Brad Vickers, "Chickenheart" no more, held the bird steady against the wind.
"Go! Go! Go!" Chris yelled.
They helped the wounded on board first. Richard and Kenneth were hauled into the back. Enrico followed.
Barry and Chris jumped in.
Jill turned back. Rebecca was standing by the edge of the ramp, looking back at the mansion. She looked small, trembling slightly.
Atlas was there instantly. He didn't say a word; he just placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her up the ramp.
"I've got you," he whispered.
They scrambled into the helicopter cabin.
"We're full! Punch it, Brad!" Barry screamed into the headset.
The engine roared. The helicopter lurched upward, banking hard to the left just as the ground below began to buckle.
Boom!
It started deep underground. A rumble that shook the airframe.
Then, the villa imploded.
Windows blew out in a unified wave of fire. The roof collapsed. A massive fireball erupted from the center of the estate, reaching up toward the helicopter like a claw.
BOOM!
The shockwave hit them a second later, rattling the chopper, but Brad held it steady.
Below them, the symbol of Umbrella's arrogance—the traps, the labs, the misery of the Trevor family—was reduced to a crater of burning rubble.
Silence settled over the cabin, heavy and exhausted
.
They were alive.
Against all odds, against betrayal and biological nightmares, they had survived.
Barry sat near the door, calmly reloading his Python, counting his remaining rounds—a nervous tic he couldn't stop. Chris stared out the window, his eyes unfocused, watching the burning forest recede. He was processing the betrayal, the loss of his friend Wesker, and the war that was just beginning.
The casualty list was heavy.
Joseph Frost (Alpha) - K.I.A.
Edward Dewey (Bravo) - K.I.A.
Forest Speyer (Bravo) - K.I.A.
Kevin Dooley (Pilot) - K.I.A.
But they had saved more than history said they would.
Enrico Marini, Kenneth Sullivan, and Richard Aiken—men destined to die in the original timeline—were alive, bandaged, and breathing in the back of the chopper.
Atlas sat in the middle of the bench seat. He had discarded his bloody jacket, leaving him in just his black t-shirt. His arms were crossed, his eyes closed, the rush finally fading into a dull ache in his bones.
He felt a weight settle on his left shoulder.
He opened one eye.
Rebecca had drifted off. The exhaustion had hit her like a hammer the moment the danger passed. She was curled up, her head resting on Atlas's shoulder, her hand loosely gripping his arm even in sleep. She looked peaceful, the terror of the night smoothed away.
Atlas smiled faintly. He didn't move. He shifted slightly to make her more comfortable.
Then, he felt a weight on his right shoulder.
He turned his head.
Jill Valentine was sitting next to him. She wasn't asleep, but her eyes were heavy, lidded with fatigue. She had leaned her head against him, seeking the same warmth and stability that Rebecca had found.
She caught him looking. She didn't pull away. She just offered a tired, soft smile.
"All these muscles make a good pillow, Atlas.," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the rotors.
"So I've been told," Atlas whispered back.
"Just... wake me up when we get to the city," Jill said softly, closing her eyes. "I just need a minute."
"Take your time," Atlas said.
He sat there, acting as the anchor for the two women who had fought through hell beside him. He felt the steady rhythm of their breathing, the warmth of their contact. It was a stark contrast to the coldness of his skin.
He looked out the window.
The horizon was beginning to glow. The sun was rising over the Midwest, casting a golden light that pierced through the smoke of the explosion.
Residents living near Victory Lake were awakened by the thunder of the detonation, but up here, above the chaos, it was quiet.
Atlas watched the sunrise. He knew this wasn't the end. Raccoon City was still standing, but the infection was already there, festering in the sewers, waiting for the right time. The clock was ticking.
But for now, in the golden light of the morning sun, they were safe.
*****
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