Resident Evil. Retribution Read Online Free Page A

motion, the hallway sliding slowly, slowly past her as she headed for the laundry room. She glanced over her shoulder, saw the Undead, a chunky white man in a blood-splashed green golf shirt, pursuing her from the living room
    He seemed to move in slow motion, too.
    Time sped up to normal as she darted into the laundry room. She lowered Becky with one arm, while with the other hand she slammed the door in her pursuer’s face. There was no lock on the door.
    She jammed her shoulder hard against it and immediately felt the pushback, the Undead trying to force the door open, growling, the living dead man whining in frustration on the other side like a vicious dog on a short chain.
    “Mommy!” Becky screeched, waving her frantically signing fingers in front of her mother’s face. “What’s happening? Where’s Daddy?”
    Alice couldn’t hold the door much longer. The creature was slowly pushing it open, its slavering, bloody, snarling face pressing into view. She gave it one more shove, with all her strength, momentarily pushing the creature back—then she let go.
    Before the Undead could move, Alice pulled over a heavy shelving unit that stood beside the entrance. The cabinet fell on its side, blocking the door, spilling boxes of Tide and conditioner but jamming the way— at least for the moment.
    There was a gap, still—and several Undead reached through to wildly claw the air, ravenously trying to get at Alice and Becky. And she knew what they wanted. Some half-forgotten nightmare whispered to her, from the deep recesses of her mind.
    They want to eat you. They want to eat Becky — they want to strip the flesh from her body and gobble it down while she still lives…
    Alice looked desperately around and saw only one tiny window. She grabbed a small stepladder leaning near the dryer, carried it past the silently sobbing Becky, to the wall under the window. She opened the ladder, climbed up, knocked the mesh screen away.
    Behind her she heard a scraping sound as the door was being pushed further open, the cabinet raking the floor.
    And she realized that the window was too small, even for Becky.
    Alice jumped down from the stepladder—and Becky ran up to her, pointing at the door, where the Undead were pushing the heavy cabinet further out of the way, inch by inch. There was nowhere to go, nothing with which to fight with. Scanning the room, she saw only a washing machine, a dryer, and dirty clothes in a hamper. The concrete floor was solid.
    So Alice looked up, because that’s all that was left—and remembered the crawlspace.

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    Bringing the stepladder over, she climbed it and signed to Becky to bring her a mop. The little girl, her face pale and drawn, a caricature of raw anxiety, grabbed the mop and did as she was told. Balancing on tiptoes atop the stepladder Alice grabbed the mop handle and slammed it hard into the ceiling. The plasterboard material was thin, feebly nailed in place, and the mop handle broke through almost immediately.
    The Undead were scrabbling, snarling at the door, worming over the cabinet, getting in one another’s way—but they were almost through, and they were more than ready to feed…
    Alice cleared enough room to tear at the plasterboard with her bare hands, her strength madly increased as she fought to protect her little girl. Dropping the mop, she clawed frantically, pulled chunks out of the way. Insulation slopped down, fiberglass and dust slithering over her shoulders. She pulled herself up, enough to force her head through. Shafts of light streamed up around her, illuminating swirling motes of disturbed dust.
    Down below, the howling built to a triumphant fever pitch as the creatures crawled over the cabinet. The first one tripped and fell into the room.
    Alice lowered herself back onto the stepladder and jumped down, signing to Becky—even as an Undead, sprawled on the floor, struggling to its feet, took a swipe at her.
    “Grab a hold!” Alice signed. “Climb!”
    Becky