ring, ring [Exemplary]

[Albert Wesker]

Thankfully, there were no further interruptions on his trip back to the stairs. Up he went, back to the higher level. That was when things started to fall apart, quite literally. More of the walking, shambling corpses were up here. He hadn't seen them before, and there was only one place he hadn't been to when he had previously been up here: the storage rooms. It made him thankful he had decided not to go there first. It would have been a waste of time he couldn't have afforded, given how short he was already running.

But at the same time, he couldn't afford to deal with these damnable things now, either. He dropped the rifle, reaching for the last grenade at his belt. "Time to clear the way forward..." He pulled the pin, and after taking a moment to calculate his aim, he threw the explosive. It hit the wall, bouncing off and then clattering against the ceiling. It hit the floor, rolling and bouncing along before thunking against the shin of one of the shamblers. A second later, it exploded, shredding the zombie it lay at the feet of and pulverizing the others in its explosive radius.

...unfortunately, it also blew out the damaged flooring, leaving a huge crater in the floor.

"..." That drew a silent, disgruntled stare from Wesker. The hole in the floor reached nearly wall to wall, covering the hallway in its entirety. At a rough estimate, it had to be nearly seven feet across. If he could get a good running start, he could easily make that jump, he knew. The problem was...he didn't have much room to get the necessary runup. It didn't leave him with many options, but if he could find some way to get just an extra foot or two of room, to cut down the distance he needed to jump...

A quick, frantic scan of the area allowed his eyes to finally settle on an idea. The walls. They had been pelted with shrapnel, filled with pockmarks and small craters from the blast and from earlier gunfire. It was risk, and if he slipped he would fall down to the lower level again for sure, but if he could manage it...

Steeling himself, he retreated back down the stairs to the first landing. He took a deep breath, readying for what was about to happen. With his battered, nearly broken condition, this was going to be agony and nowhere near as easy as it would be otherwise. He took a few seconds to mentally plan and calculate the angle he'd need for this stunt. There was a solid chunk of pipe jutting out from the wall, which would make a good jumping off point; a clear mark to gauge the distance, and a solid projection to give that little extra bit of leverage. It was the best he had.

He nodded, and broke into a sprint. Up the stairs, and across the dozen feet up to the edge of the new pit in the floor. He pivoted, letting his pace take him up onto the wall. One step, a second step...his traction started to run out, the water still drenching him making it more difficult. But he had enough to cover the third step to reach his jumping point. Kicking off, he soared through the air, hitting the ground and landing heavily. He gave a pained grunt, stumbling forward several paces until he collapsed in a heap on the ground. Several agonized wheezes burst from him as he lay there, involuntarily curling in on himself at the pain.

It wasn't until the automated system overhead announced T-minus one minute until detonation. and then began counting down Fifty-nine...fifty-eight... that he managed to force himself up again, staggering and stumbling onward. "Almost...almost out of here..."