Read an Excerpt from RESIDENT EVIL: THE FINAL CHAPTER Official Movie Novelization

With Resident Evil: The Final Chapter now in theaters from Screen Gems, moviegoers can take one last ride with Alice on the big screen, but they can also join her on a perilous journey to Raccoon City in Tim Waggoner's official novelization of the film that's out now from Titan Books, and we've been provided with an excerpt for Daily Dead readers to enjoy.

Synopsis: "Picking up immediately after the events in Resident Evil: Retribution, humanity is on its last legs after Alice is betrayed by Wesker in Washington D.C. As the only survivor of what was meant to be humanity's final stand against the undead hordes, Alice must return to where the nightmare began - Raccoon City, where the Umbrella Corporation is gathering its forces for a final strike against the only remaining survivors of the apocalypse. In a race against time Alice will join forces with old friends, and an unlikely ally, in an action packed battle with undead hordes and new mutant monsters. Between regaining her superhuman abilities at Wesker's hand and Umbrella's impending attack, this will be Alice's most difficult adventure as she fights to save humanity, which is on the brink of oblivion."

To learn more about the official movie novelization of Resident Evil: The Final Chapter, visit Titan Books.

Excerpt:

They say that history is written by the victors. This, then, is the history of the Umbrella Corporation.

Formed thirty years ago by two crusading scientists, Dr. Alexander Isaacs and Professor James Marcus, the Umbrella Corporation had the best of intentions, the loftiest of ideals. Marcus had a young daughter afflicted with progeria, a progressive, fatal wasting disease. The same disease that had killed her mother. Marcus had already lost a wife. He couldn’t lose a daughter. Marcus was driven to save her, and other children like her, so that no parent would ever have to suffer again. But the odds seemed impossible. And even as he worked desperately to create a cure, the young child’s father would record his daughter—her voice, her likeness—saving her for posterity.

***

James Marcus sat on a wheeled stool at his daughter’s beside, watching her sleep. Although they were at home, his daughter’s room looked more like it belonged in a hospital ward than a family dwelling. A myriad of machines surrounded the bed, connected to his girl by thin wires, monitoring her vital signs. IV bags hung on metal stands, tubes stretching to the needles embedded in the backs of her wrists in order to deliver a steady stream of various medicines.

While Marcus employed homecare nurses to see to his daughter’s needs, he had been the one to set up the equipment and select the medicines that flowed into her body, a number of them highly experimental. Not that his efforts had borne much fruit. His daughter’s condition hadn’t improved in any significant way, and the side effects from the powerful medicines coursing through her veins only served to intensify her misery. He hated further decreasing her already diminished quality of life, but he could not stand by and watch as the same disease that had claimed her mother killed her, too. He was one of the smartest people on the planet—he thought this with no ego; it was a simple statement of fact—yet for all his education, training, and experience, he’d been unable to save his wife, and now it looked like he would fail his daughter as well.

And not just her—all the others who suffered from incurable diseases, and their loved ones as well. He had been working on a cure, not only for her condition, but a cure for all disease, and while he’d made some progress, in no small measure thanks to the contributions of his partner in both business and science, Alexander Isaacs, unless they had a breakthrough soon, his daughter would die before they achieved their goal. That’s why he was here today.

He had a backup plan. Quite literally.

He’d brought some new equipment with him this visit: a metal cart with a computer monitor and keyboard on the top shelf and an oversized CPU on the bottom. The CPU was like nothing available on the market. For that matter, it was like nothing the world’s militaries and intelligence agencies possessed. The machine was enclosed in a black metallic casing with the red and white Umbrella Corporation logo emblazoned on the side. A number of medical leads were plugged into the computer, and Marcus began attaching the other ends to his daughter’s head while she slept.

Like her mother, his daughter was afflicted with Werner syndrome, also known as adult progeria. It was a rare genetic disorder, with a global incidence of one in 100,000 births. The rate of occurrence was even lower in the United Sates: one in 200,000. This form of progeria could be passed from parent to child, and that’s exactly what had happened to his poor daughter. But where the disease hadn’t begun to manifest in his wife until her twenties, it had struck their daughter much younger, at only six years of age. People with Werner syndrome experienced premature aging and usually died in their late forties. But given how early the disease had presented in his daughter, Marcus feared she had nowhere near that long to live, and if he couldn’t save her, at least he could preserve her.

He tried to work as gently as he could so as not to wake the sleeping girl, but he had only attached half of the leads when her eyes slowly opened. They were clouded with the beginnings of cataracts, but she could still see well enough to recognize him, and she smiled faintly.

“Hello, Father.” Her voice was hoarse and high-pitched—a symptom of her disease.

Marcus returned her smile, hoping she wouldn’t sense the deep sadness hidden behind his expression.

“Hello, sweetheart. How are you feeling today?”

“Tired,” she said, exhaling the word more than speaking it. She managed another smile. “But I’m always tired, aren’t I?”

She was dressed in a white silk nightgown, the most comfortable that Marcus had been able to find. Her blondish-brown hair, once healthy and thick, was straw-like and graying. Her skin was thin and wrinkled, the veins visible beneath. She’d always favored her mother, but now she was coming to look like his wife had in her final days, when the disease had stolen away her youth and vitality, leaving her little more than a scarecrow made of flesh and bone. The resemblance was almost too much for him to bear, and he had to force himself not to look away from her.

“It’s only to be expected,” Marcus said, trying to keep his voice steady. He continued attaching the leads to his daughter.

“What are you doing? Is it a new treatment?”

There was a note of hope in the question that nearly broke Marcus’s heart.

“I’m going to make a record of the electrochemical activity in your brain.”

His daughter was highly intelligent and would likely surpass him when… if she grew up. But as bright as she was, the slight furrowing of her brow told him she hadn’t understood his explanation. He continued talking as he turned to the computer and began typing commands.

“I’m going to take a picture of your brain. Or more precisely, of how your brain works. Everything that makes us who we are is up here.” He paused in his typing to raise a hand to his head and tap his index finger against his temple. “Our thoughts, our experiences, our dreams…”

He typed some more and a display came up on the screen—a three-dimensional rendering of his daughter’s brain with constant lightning-like flashes of light coruscating across the surface. For a moment, his breath caught in his throat. He was a man of science, someone who relied on reason and evidence, not faith, and yet he couldn’t escape the feeling he was gazing upon his daughter’s soul.

“Why do you want to do that?” she asked.

Her eyes were half closed and she sounded sleepy. She had difficulty staying awake these days, mostly because of her weakened state but also because drowsiness was one of the primary side effects of the medicines she was taking. The recording of her brain patterns would be completed just as effectively whether she was awake or asleep, and he’d already made numerous recordings of her facial features and vocal patterns during previous visits, so if she returned to sleep, his work could continue. It might be a blessing if she slept—more for him than for her. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep talking to her without breaking down. And if he cried in front of her, she would know he’d lost hope, and in turn, she would lose what little remained to her. He was her father, and he had to be strong for her, if only for a little while longer.

“I’m testing a new computer program I’ve invented, and I couldn’t think of anyone who is better equipped to help me than you. After all, you are the smartest person I know.”

Her smile was so faint it was almost undetectable. Her eyes closed further, although because of her condition, they couldn’t close completely. She reached a trembling hand toward him, and he quickly took hold of it before she lost what strength she had, and her hand flopped back down onto the bed.

“You’ve done so much for me, Father. I’m happy to…” Her voice trailed off, and for a second Marcus thought she’d dozed off, but then she continued. “…help you in any way I can.”

That did it. Tears began streaming down Marcus’s face, and he continued holding his daughter’s hand, careful to grip it lightly so he wouldn’t hurt her. She lay still and her breathing deepened, and Marcus knew she had fallen back to sleep. Now that there was no longer any need to hide his grief, he let it pour out of him in great, wracking sobs as the computer continued making a virtual copy of his dying daughter’s mind.

***

But then the breakthrough came. Marcus and Isaacs discovered the Progenitor Cell. Once injected, it would detect and repair damaged cells within the body almost instantaneously. It was a miracle. The life of Marcus’s daughter was saved.

The Progenitor Cell had a myriad of applications, treating a thousand different diseases. Overnight, it seemed that a new era was dawning. A world without the fear of infection, sickness, or decay. But it was not to be. For the Progenitor Cell had certain unforeseen side effects…