It all started when I thought to myself, "Hey, Zoey and Claire Redfield look a lot alike." Pretty soon, I started to wonder how the L4D gang could be related to the other characters in Resident Evil, and I found that it matched up pretty damn well. At least, that's my opinion. We'll see how you think about it.
The Mercy of Light
The helicopter zoomed through the night sky above the looming skyscrapers of Fairfield. In the minds of the operatives it felt like Raccoon City all over again. Whatever the case this new virus created much more lethal changes than the T-Virus that had preceded it...so they heard. Response to this was much more prompt, with rescue operations of any survivors promptly initialized. How successful these missions would be, nobody knew.
The cockpit was quiet with recollection in the past as the pilot shouted to his passengers that they were approaching their destination. A final weapons check, and they were there. The helicopter hovered over the park, lights off. A rope lowered, and one...two...three...four people slid down to terra firma, advancing as the cacophony of the helicopter faded away.
They had received the radio distress signal from an apartment complex, but by the sound of it a barricade would not be feasible, and they would have to stay mobile to avoid being caught by the Horde. Where the Survivors were now was anybody's guess, but the squad had decided that they were probably headed for the Mercy Hospital.
"Really takes you back, huh?" Chris broke the silence as they crept forward across the grass.
"To Raccoon City?" Jill answered rhetorically, flashlight to her MP5 on, concentrating on the enveloping darkness.
"Yeah," Leon replied simply. He had his rifle readied, just behind Chris.
"Tell me about it," Claire stated wryly, MAC-10s at the ready. She had a Milkor MGL strapped to her back, making her the heavy firepower person in the squad.
Crossing the open lawn, they beheld a shimmering presence, the lake in the middle of the park. The water was completely black, except for the ghostly reflection of the massive hospital on its undulating surface.
"Over there," Jill indicated. There were a few zombies milling about the shore of the lake, walking about in their grotesque, ungainly style. The four raised their weapons, about to fire when suddenly the crisp report of a gunshot rang through the air. The zombies raised their heads, eyes glowing like embers, staggering briskly to the source of the noise. A succession of shots sounded, and the zombies fell dead, taken out by the squad.
As they rushed out of the park, the gunshots in the distance sounded with alarming frequency, staccato in the air amid the inhuman growls and screeches of the Infected. Just as they were about to exit the park, suddenly there was a loud screech and a rushing wind... Leon saw it and reflexively dived out of the way with a display of gymnastics. The Infected was already pouncing away again, this time bowling Chris down. An expertly placed kick by Jill knocked the Hunter off of Chris, and it was quickly dispatched.
"What the hell? How did these things get so fast?"
"If that's the case, we're going to have to get some speed ourselves." Claire pointed to a Cushman haulster in the distance down the sidewalk, lights still on. Quickly they ran to it as they heard the sounds of the Infected nearing. Oddly enough the haulster was deserted and the keys still in. It wasn't the time to comprehend this eerie fact though. Claire, as the best driver out of the four, took the wheel, with Leon sitting next to her and Chris and Jill getting onto the back seats facing backwards.
Just as they took off, they saw the Horde for the first time. These were no ordinary zombies or even Majini they had faced. These Infected surged forward with a dead vitality, running at the sight of the living. Chris and Jill opened fire, holding off the pursuing Horde when a tongue lashed out from a surprising angle, wrapping around Jill's waist and jerking. Reflexively she grabbed onto the railing, barely managing to stay on. Chris pulled his knife and sliced the tongue as quick as he could, severing it with a powerful stroke.
They were in the city now, and the gunshots were closer...they could have been just around the corner, when Claire suddenly got a faceful of green bile.
"Oh shit!" She quickly slammed on the brakes, knowing that she couldn't drive in this condition. Leon saw that there was a lightpost ahead and jerked the wheel as hard as he could, swerving madly and only clipping the corner of the haulster with a crash. The four got out, Claire still slightly blinded but now managing to wipe off the stuff from her face, running to the sound of those gunshots, returning fire as best as they could. One block...two block...now just around the corner outside the hospital.
They burst through, guns blazing, and so unexpected was the sight among the four Survivors that they almost stopped firing, watching their saviors fend off the zombies with skilled close-quarters combat and marksmenship. The sight of the renewed Horde surging back brought them to their senses, and the eight ran like hell into the hospital and into the saferoom ahead, closing the door with a bang and latching it.
They panted, catching their breath, leaning against the walls.
"Woo! We made it!" the black man said with relief.
"Wait a minute…where the hell have I heard that? Louis, is that you?"
"What the—Leon?"
"Well, it's a small world after all. Claire Redfield, am I glad to see you!" Francis exclaimed in that way that he always greeted an old-timer.
"Fancy seeing you here, Francis," she replied with a smile.
"Excellent marksmanship, Jillian. I'm proud of you."
"There's only one person who can get away with calling me Jillian, and if I'm not seeing things he's standing right in front of me."
"Chris? Claire?"
"Zoey?" Chris and Claire exclaimed.
An awkward silence ensued.
"Okay," Francis bravely ventured. "What the hell is going on here? We gonna cough up an explanation?"
"Why don't you start?" Bill replied.
"Sure. Redfield here was part of our biking entourage back then before the whole Raccoon City thing happened. So I should presume that you two are related to Zoey?"
"Yeah, Zo's our cousin," Chris responded. "And how does this guy get away with calling you Jillian? Last time Frost did that he got a filling knocked out."
"He was my marksmanship instructor back when I was in the Army. And Lord knows he earned that privilege..."
"Even if I was your officer. Stubborn as usual, Jillian. So how do you know this fellow, Louis?"
"Back in high school Leon and I were best friends, man. Pulled the greatest senior prank ever!"
"Did cost me my job with the crane company, but I don't regret it at all."
The chuckles withered away slowly in the face of the wind. Back to business.
"Kirk? Come in. This is Chris. We've located the survivors at Mercy Hospital. Meet us at the top."
Some static came in.
"Glad to know. I'll be there ASAP, but I'm in the middle of ferrying another squad right now. Can you hold out?"
"We should have enough ammo to hold out on the roof if we have to."
"My ETA is 20 minutes. Meet you there, Kirk out."
"You heard him. Let's get our asses out of Dodge!" Francis unbarred the door and opened it softly, stepping into the hospital. No sign of Infected. There was blood splattered all over the hallway, but everything was silent. Eight beams of light penetrated through the murky darkness as they slowly moved forward. There were only a few zombies milling about in the rooms that the rescuers dealt swiftly and silently with their knives.
As they approached up the stairwell, however, there was the harsh, wild growls of zombies and the fast patter of feet down the metal stairs. Another group was running down the hallway they had just went down. Quickly they got into position. Leon, with his PSG-1, covered the long sightline of the hallway with accurate rifle fire, while Chris and Francis, armed with shotguns, fired through the door at the Infected, blasting it and the zombies into smithereens.
In the midst of the gunfire they could hear a loud gurgling rushing down the hall.
"Boomer!" Bill shouted. "Get cover!"
He quickly got prone, and a wad of bile aimed for his head missed and hit Louis full on the shoulder.
"Oh, shit!" Louis turned around and blasted the Boomer down, but not before his second shot hit Jill.
"Brace yourself, they're coming!"
The survivors and the rescuers bunched up tightly together in a circle around the bile-covered two as a fresh new wave of Infected ran over to taste some of the irresistible bile. Even the survivors of Raccoon City were surprised at how vicious these zombies were…they might have been weaker than the T-Virus zombies, but they were much faster and much more tightly packed. It was almost as if there was some pack mentality about them.
Finally, the swarm seemed to stop, and the last of the zombies were mopped up along with the bile. The group proceeded up the stairs. Unfortunately for them, a mass of rubble blocked the way. Certainly it could have been removed by the grenades the rescuers had, but the noise was certain to attract a fresh new wave of zombies. They had to go down this second floor.
It was a wide open space, the cafeteria, but it wasn't the darkness that made them shiver. It was the unearthly weeping coming from the back of the cafeteria. The rescuers could sense that this was no sign of distress.
"What the hell is that?" Leon could make out the figure vaguely through the darkness. His laser pointer crept down the floor towards it…
"For fuck's sake, don't do that! The Witch'll tear your head off if you get her riled," hissed Zoey sharply.
The eight crept down the cafeteria, nice and silently, towards the steps leading up to the ledge when a tongue shot out through the darkness and snagged Francis by the throat. He uttered no sound, but his shotgun clattered to the ground with a loud THUD.
As soon as she saw those red eyes flash, Jill dove to the side with a sudden instinct. She felt the cold wind brush past her as the Witch narrowly missed her and made a beeline for Claire instead.
"Claire!"
She had been firing at the Smoker, but she turned and saw two pairs of claws coming after her…the only thing she could do in that short space of time was brace for the worst…
BAM.
Despite his considerable bulk, Chris was faster than hell when anyone tried to lay a hand on his baby sister, living, dead, or undead. One had to feel sorry for the Witch as his fury channeled into a punch from his monstrous fist and collided with a violent smack onto the Witch's temple. The Witch staggered and fell to the ground, trying to pick itself up, but Chris was already too fast for her, stomping her head in with his heavy BSAA-issue military boot. This man certainly had guns, but he always reserved the real guns for his most hated enemies.
By this time, the noise had attracted another wave of Infected. This time the group knew that time was of the essence, and they ran, firing backwards at the mass of Infected chasing after them up the stairs.
"Fire in the hole!" Leon tossed a grenade out into the stairwell as they bolted for the elevator. The explosion shook the walls, and then the sound of zombie grunts and screeches seemed to fade as they reached the elevator.
"Kirk, what's your status?"
Heavy static.
"Kirk, come in!"
"There's…some large B.O.W.s out there! Tossing rocks out there! Be careful of the rooftops! Holy shi—!"
"Kirk!"
Silence.
"We're just going to have to hope that he makes it out of that one in one piece," Jill remarked.
"I don't like this. It's too silent," Bill said as he shouldered his M16. He had not even finished his last sentence when the walls burst open, sending a whole stream of Infected from all sides. It was so dense that they could not swing their weapons to aim at another target, because a zombie would be blocking the way. It was down to hand-to-hand combat.
Thankfully, Jill, Claire, Chris, and Leon were both armed with knives, which they used to devastating effect. Chris, whose blade was massive and whose strength was enormous, could cleave zombies in half, while Leon brained his opponents, Claire slashed away, and Jill shanked them quickly in a few vital spots. The survivors were not idle either, using the butts of their weapons to knock the zombies away so their more powerfully armed rescuers could better kill them.
After what seemed like an eternity the elevator finally rang, and they backed into it as quickly as they could, not stopping the gunfire until the doors had fully closed. Up and up they went…when the doors finally opened they were greeted by a draft of cold air. The place seemed to be under further construction. Quickly and methodically they went down, eliminating the zombies milling about on the way.
Leon could sense that there was something there, but he couldn't quite place where it was…that growl and smell was awfully familiar, though. Then he turned around. A zombie in a red hoodie reared back for a pounce. Quicker than one could blink he dropped to the floor, and the Hunter whizzed over his head and over the edge to meet its doom 30 stories below.
Louis grinned at his old friend. "Got some good reflexes, man. Where'd you pick them up?"
"Five years of government training helped."
It was a good thing that the journey to the nearest safe room went without much incident. Health and ammo were most welcome, although Claire was curious.
"Who leaves all this stuff around here?"
"Dunno. Frankly, we're in their debt, whoever did this, but we got better things to worry about," Francis replied.
"Heh," Jill reminisced as she loaded up her MP5 with some ammo from the stash. "At least you guys have all this ammo to go crazy with. Whatever happened to survival horror?"
"Times have changed. People start to get experience with what an outbreak really is," Leon replied.
"That's a pretty funny looking gun? What is it?" Zoey asked her cousin.
"This?" Chris held up his firearm. "A nice little shotty I picked up in Africa. Some call it the Striker, some call it the Street Sweeper, some call it the Jail Breaker."
"What do you call it?" Louis asked.
"I don't call it anything. It's basically a mobile version of my fist." Chris' muscles seemed to bulge as he replied. "We all geared up?"
"Well, glad you ladies finally broke the gossip up. We got a flight to catch." And with that Bill unlocked the door to a silent hall. There was nothing except for a whipping cold wind. There was some bright light ahead…they followed it. Some catwalks ahead, with one or two zombies standing stupidly. Finally, they were at the ladder.
Chris pointed up. "I'll go up first to make sure there's nothing there."
He clambered up, shotgun slung about his back…the others waited below with bated breath. A few pistol shots rang out.
"It's clear," his voice reassured through three Bluetooth earpieces.
It was a sight. A vast rooftop greeted them. It was silent. There were no zombies to be seen. The helipad was just ahead.
Chris checked his watch…Kirk should be coming in five minutes. Staying on the helipad, though, was too dangerous; it was much too wide open, and the danger of getting knocked off was too great. The building up ahead, though, seemed defensible. He could faintly hear a radio.
"Look, there's a minigun mounted on the roof of that building!"
They looked to where Claire was pointing. Instantly everyone knew that was where the final stand would be. Some extra ammo and bandages were there, as well as some more unconventional items.
"Set those gasoline and propane tanks outside. They could be useful traps. Leon, answer the radio."
Leon set the radio to the BSAA frequency. "HQ, we have four survivors with us on the rooftop of Mercy Hospital. Requesting helicopter evac. HQ, do you copy?"
"Copy that…just hold on! Kirk just managed to get out of a slippery spot. You'll have to clear a way for him though, his gunner's dead."
Bad news piles upon bad news, and the worse was here to come. Leon and Zoey, since they were both armed with rifles, were positioned on the top, with Claire to provide grenade support and Bill to man the minigun. Inside, Chris and Francis could use their shotguns to defend, while Louis and Jill could offer some automatic support. They had just closed the doors and barricaded them with chairs and other random items lying about when they heard the roar of the minigun and Louis' cry, tinny under the fire:
"They're coming!"
Infected were coming left, right, and center, clambering up onto the roof, pouring in through the windows, smashing the door and barricades down in an instant…if it were not for the skill of the rescuers and the experience of the rescued, they would be doomed. Shooting the gasoline and propane tanks offered some temporary relief, but the killed would be replaced by fresh waves that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Amid the screams of the infected and the guns of the living, a sudden noise could be heard…it was the helicopter!
"Move out! Move out to the helipad! Run and shoot!"
The people on the roof didn't even bother to use the stairs, which was clogged by a queue of zombies. They simply jumped off, a few of them landing straight on zombie heads and stomping them down. The ones below jumped out of the gaping holes in the wall, running for dear lives.
The helicopter was nearing the helipad.
"Come on! Come on!" Kirk shouted.
The eight were just about to reach the helipad when…
"Holy shit! It's them again! Take them out!"
The helicopter circled higher and away.
"Kirk, what the fuck—"
Then he saw the huge hand grasping the edge, and another hand pulling the body up. A monstrous Infected…Leon was reminded of El Gigante…but then another pair of hands clambered up…and another.
"Just our luck. We're about to get rescued, and three tanks show up!"
"We got eight people, Francis. Eight against their three. Let's give 'em what we got!"
The eight formed a circle facing the three Tanks surrounding them. There seemed to be a standstill for an exact instant. And then…
"Look out!"
Zoey dived out of the way, and everyone else followed suit. The gigantic piece of concrete smashed in what would have been the center of their ring, sending dust and chunks of solid concrete flying every which way. The battle was on.
Claire shouldered her Mikor grenade launcher…she had one explosive round left. This should do it…her brother acted as bait, annoying the giant thing with his buckshot. Steady…steady…
The grenade streaked over and hit the Tank smack in the body, stumbling it, but then it quickly picked itself up and charged in Claire's direction. Clearly, more than a match for silly grenades. It charged at her, and she was ready to dodge when Chris and Francis discharged several rounds of buckshot at the Tank from the flank, annoying it sufficiently to divert its attention to them. Unfortunately, she was all out of ammo, even for her MAC-10's. She felt her pockets…a single flame round!
She loaded it as fast as she could, and looked up to aim at the Tank when she saw that it had grabbed her brother. Oh, no, that monster didn't…
Chris could see the thirty story drop just a couple of meters away…this was the end for him. He felt himself being raised over its head, and he closed his eyes, preparing for the worst, when all of a sudden he felt a sudden heat, smelt dead, burning flesh, heard a roar of agony. He tumbled through those fingers, managing to gather himself quickly enough to perform a recovering roll. The Tank ran around in agony, flailing wildly, but Claire and him managed to get out of the way of its fists and tossed debris. Finally it collapsed in a smouldering, twitching heap.
Jill fired at the Tank in front of her…there was no need to aim. The target was much too big, and it was a couple of meters away. Even still it seemed to shrug off her bullets, sending a massive straight punch her way. Quick on her toes, she did a back handspring just out of range of the punch, and continued to fire…at least, tried to continue firing. She needed to reload.
"Jill! Catch!"
Bill tossed a bottle with a burning rag her way. Perhaps he was aging though, or he had been bitten on the arm one too many times, for his aim was short, and the Molotov would surely go off at her feet. Jill dove at that thing, hitting the ground hard but feeling the bottle plop into her hand heavily. The rag was almost burnt out, and the Tank was nearly on top of her. She tossed with all her strength upwards, hitting it smack in the face. If she had stayed on the ground for a moment more, she would have had the satisfaction of seeing it rear backwards with a mad roar of pain.
Instead, she performed a quick kip-up, and seeing it stagger so close to the precipice, tossed her submachine gun to the side and jumped, kicking hard with both her feet on the Tank's chest. The force was enough to push him off to a long fall.
Kirk's helicopter hovered near the edge.
"Come on, come on! Hop in!"
Chris, Claire, Francis, Bill, and Jill jumped in, with Leon, Louis, and Zoey chased by a wounded but very much undead Tank. Leon leapt gracefully in, Zoey managed to barely clear it, but Louis was short, only barely managing to grab onto the landing skid.
"Help me!" He was dangling, feeling himself whipped here and about by the high winds. The Tank was at the edge now, rearing for a jump, and Kirk was starting to pull away. He was getting nervous.
"Grab on!" Francis extended a hand. The Tank leaped into the air now, the copter within its reach…
Jill and Chris emerged, each carrying an RPG-7. There were milliseconds to aim; it was do or die. Two rockets shot through the air, blowing the Tank into little pieces in midair, sending a rain of blood and chunks onto the dead streets below. The shock of the explosion, though, shook the helicopter, pitching Francis clear off the copter. It was only by a miracle that he managed to grab onto Louis' legs.
As the helicopter flew away from the hospital of death, Chris and Leon pulled the two survivors up to safety, who collapsed onto a heap on the floor from sheer exhaustion and relief. Claire closed the door, and there was only the noise of the helicopter whirring through the air.
"Phew…for a moment I thought we were dead meat!" Louis sighed with relief.
"Louis, if I died because of you, I was gonna murder you."
The rest of them were silent as they watched Apache helicopters arrive at the scene. The darkness lit up with flashes of lightning and the explosion of Hellfire missiles as the hospital, no, the city was razed and purified by fire.
"Thanks for coming and bailing us out back there," Zoey finally broke the silence.
"No. Thank you for surviving," Chris replied.
Ahead through the cockpit windshield, a glimmer of sunrise could be seen in the distance, away from the darkness of death and the fire of destruction. It was the very thing they had fought all this time for, to live to see it—the mercy of light.