The Umbrella Conspiracy - By S. D. Perry Page 0,26

of the leather strips and then put it down quickly, wiping her fingers on her pants. She couldn't be sure, but it felt like she imagined tanned, cured human skin would feel, stiff and kind of greasy.

Crash!

The window behind her exploded inward, a lithe, sinewy form lunging into the hall, growling and snapping. It was one of the mutant, killing hounds, its eyes as red as its dripping hide. It charged her, its teeth as bright and dangerous as the jagged glitter of glass still falling from the shattered frame.

Backed between two of the chests, Jill fired. The angle was wrong, the bullet splintering the wood at her feet as the dog jumped at her, growling deep in its throat.

It hit her in the thighs, slamming her painfully against the wall, gnashing to get its jaws at her flesh.

The smell of rotting meat washed over her and she fired again and again, barely aware that she was moaning in fear and disgust, a sound as guttural and primal as the furious, dying shrieks that came from the canine abomination.

The fifth bullet fired directly into its barrel chest knocked it away. With a final, almost puppyish yelp it crumpled to the floor, blood gushing into the tan carpet.

Jill kept her weapon trained on the still form, gulping air in huge, shuddery breaths. Its limbs twitched suddenly, its massive claws beating a brief tattoo across the wet, red floor before it lay still again.

Jill relaxed, recognizing the movement as a death spasm, the body releasing life. She'd have bruises, but the dog was dead.

She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and crouched down next to it, taking in the strange, exposed musculature and huge jaws. It had been too dark and hectic on the run to the house to get a good look at the things that had killed Joseph, but in the bright light of the corridor, her initial impression wasn't changed; it looked like a skinned dog.

She stood up and backed away, warily eyeing the row of windows in the hall. Obviously they offered no protection from the hazards outside. The corridor took a sharp left and she hurried on, past more of the macabre displays that decorated the inner wall.

The door at the end of the long hall was unlocked. It opened into another hall, not as well lit as the first but at least not as creepy, either. The muted, gray-green wallpaper sported paintings of generic scenery and gentle landscapes, not a bone or fetish in sight.

The first door on the right was locked, a carving of armor on the key plate. Jill remembered the list on the computer, something about knight keys, but decided not to bother with it for now. According to Trent's map, there was a room on the other side that didn't lead anywhere. Besides, if Wesker had come this way, she didn't imagine that he was locking doors behind him.

Right, just like it was unlikely that Chris would disappear; don't assume anything about this place.

The next door she tried opened into a small bathroom with an antique feel, complete with a ceiling fan and an old-fashioned, four-footed tub. There was no sign of recent use.

She stood for a moment in the stale, tiny room, breathing deeply, feeling the aftermath of the adrenaline rush she'd had in the corridor. Growing up, she'd learned how to enjoy the thrill of danger, of sneaking in and out of strange places with only a handful of tools and her own wits to keep her safe. Since joining the S.T.A.R.S., that youthful excitement had faded away, lost to the realities of back-up and handguns, but here it was again, unexpected and not unwelcome.

She couldn't lie to herself about the simple joy that often followed facing death and walking away. She felt... good. Alive.

Let's not have a party just yet, her mind whispered sarcastically. Or have you forgotten that S.T.A.R.S. are being eaten in this hellhole?

Jill stepped back into the silent hallway and edged around another corner, wondering if Barry had found Chris and if either of them had run across any of the Bravos. She felt like she had an advantage with the maps, and decided that once she'd checked out the possible escape, she'd go back to the main hall and wait for Barry. With the information on Trent's computer, they could search more quickly and thoroughly.

The corridor ended with two doors facing each other. The one on the right was the one she wanted.

She tried