Chapter 35: Ambush
(MAT)
Mat came to with a massive headache. It felt like it was burning, especially his temples, which was a nice contrast to the rest of his body, which just felt numb, except for a strange digging sensation at his arms and waist. His hair was hanging free of his forehead for a change, and Mat realized just how long it was. First thing to do: get a haircut was his first cohesive thought upon regaining consciousness.
Mat groaned slowly, like a falling tree. A thin trail of bloody saliva ran down from his mouth, and he realized he must've bitten the inside of his check during the crash. He probed with his tongue and found a hotter, wetter place. Perfect.
Then what had happened finally sank in, and Mat's eyes snapped open. He was hanging suspended from the van's bench, the seatbelt and straps the only things keeping him in place. He wondered if he was lucky to have strapped in, then decided he was when he looked down at saw Rita and Kevin, tangled up together on the floor. They were both unconscious, maybe dead, Rita with a large gash on her forehead, Kevin with a thinner trail of blood. Mat realized that was from him, and reached up to wipe his mouth, then set about undoing his waist strap.
It occurred to him just as the strap was undone that this wasn't a really wise idea, but by then it was too late, and he dropped down on top of Kevin and Rita, making the cramped tangle even worse.
"Wha-?" Kevin muttered groggily while Rita groaned.
"Sorry guys" said Mat, pushing himself up and accidently stepping on Rita's hand. "Sorry" he said again, when she let out a rather sleepy yelp.
"What…what happened?" Kevin asked, sitting up and shaking his head. Amazingly he didn't look any more than bruised. Rita had that gash, though, and Mat was worried. Rebecca would have to take a look at it…
"Rebecca!" he realized, standing up…and banging his head on the floor of the van.
"Take it easy, man" said Kevin. "Calm down. We've gotta get ourselves sorted out before we can help anybody else."
A groan from up above made them all look up at the fourth member of their compartment. Chase was strapped in too, one handed still clutching his M14. His face was bruised and there was a long, slender break in his skin from his rifle's sights, but he looked alive.
"Let's get him down, before the blood rushes to his head" said Kevin, standing up. Mat followed him, and together they managed to work Chase free, easing him down to the floor. He groaned and slowly opened his eyes.
"What's goin' on?"
"We crashed" said Mat. "It looks like we flipped over, but we're all okay."
"I'm afraid not" said Kevin, standing by the driver's compartment. "You guys better take a look at this."
Mat and Rita stumbled toward him, peering over his shoulder. As soon as Rita caught sight of it, she gasped, a hand covering her mouth.
The van had fetched up against a concrete barrier, like the sort used on highways. Although durable, the vehicles weren't invincible, and this barrier had managed to hit it just right to drive the steering column up into the cabin…and through Harry's chest.
Harry's eyes were wide open, his face blank. His blood dripped down on the floor, his hands still clutching the wheel. Already his body was turning pale.
"Well," said Kevin, "at least it was quick."
"Damn it" muttered Chase. "Now the van's a total write-off."
"That's all you have to say?" Rita demanded, whirling to face him. "A man's dead, and all you care about's the stupid van?"
"It's unfortunate about Harry, but his troubles are over" Chase replied. "That's not true for the rest of us. We're still stuck here, and now it looks like we'll all have to walk out of this nightmare."
"That's not necessarily true" Kevin said. "Maybe we can hitch a ride on one of the other vans-oh shit!" And suddenly he remembered what had led to the crash.
Mat and Kevin kicked the van doors open, then jumped out, weapons up and ready, scanning for signs of danger. Rita and Chase stumbled out a second later, their own guns up.
"There!" shouted Rita, pointing behind them, toward the burning van. Its front had been blasted open by something. It looked almost like military-grade explosives; Mat knew the vans were durable, but whatever had hit it had opened it up like a can of peaches.
A figure was moving around on the other side. Mat brought his P90. "Identify!" he shouted.
"You first!" the voice shouted back, leveling a SPAS-12.
"Dean!" Mat shouted, lowering his SMG. "Sorry about that."
"Me too." Dean brought the shotgun down, hugged close to his chest. "What happened? We swerved off the road and hit a building. Impact knocked us out a few seconds."
"Same here" said Chase. "We rolled, and our driver didn't make it."
Rita was studying the burning van. "Do you think anybody survived that?"
Kevin moved around to the back. "God, I hope not. The doors have melted shut. Anybody who lived through the crash burned to death."
"Damn" growled Chase. "Who did this? I'll rip the fucker's throat out, I swear!"
"Let's go check the other vans" said Kevin. "Surely somebody else made it."
A few other officers and some civilians had made it out in Dean's van. They were all in one piece, minus a few cuts and bruises.
"Hey doc, we're gonna need you" Kevin shouted to George, waving he and Cindy over.
"You folks okay?" Chase called out.
Karen Danvers, one of the officers who'd been stationed in the infirmary, nodded, then winced. "Yeah, but man, my head is pounding."
"Not the worst crash I've ever survived" said Coen, brushing himself off. Guy's like a damn cockroach Mat thought irritably.
"Where are the Umbrella guys?" he asked, looking around. "I don't see their truck."
"Maybe they heard the explosion and stopped?" Rita offered. "Like they thought they were under attack or something?"
"Or something" Coen said darkly. But no, the likelihood of the Umbrella mercenaries attacking were pretty slim. Mat had fought beside them in the Hive, and this group had saved Rebecca and the girl they'd saved at the school…
"Shit!" he muttered. He'd totally forgotten about Elizabeth Warren in all the confusion. He'd gone back to look for Sherry, but not her. Well, she's with Irons he consoled himself. They hadn't managed to find the RPD Chief, either. Maybe she'll be safe with him…
Mat jogged over to the second van, where the others had congregated. When he saw, Mat's heart did a nose dive into his stomach.
The van had flipped onto its side, one wheel spinning in the air. That meant the crash hadn't happened all that long ago, so the likelihood of there still being survivors was pretty good.
Nearby, a fire extinguisher spurted water on the third van. Its front tires had popped, and it had driven off the road, hitting the extinguisher on the way. Kevin and a big black man named Mark jogged over to assist them. Mat saw Chase step back, taking in the entire scene, like he was thinking. He was studying the rooftops, eyes scanning the upper floors of the surrounding brownstones like he was looking for something.
Mat bent down, prying at the handles on the van's doors, trying to unjam them. They'd been smashed together, rendering the compartment temporarily inaccessible. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see Coen jogging over.
"Let me give you a hand with that" he offered, kneeling down next to Mat.
Mat didn't say anything. He just went back to work. Between he and the former Marine, they managed to slowly force the door open. Mat and Coen let out identical curses when something flopped out…then again when they realized who it was.
"Rebecca!" Mat exclaimed. "Can you hear me?"
Rebecca groaned slightly, her eyes opening a little. "What's with all the yelling?" she muttered, groggily. She started to raise her arm to shield her eyes, then winced.
"Her shoulder's out" said Coen, pointing to the dislocated limb. "We've got to set it."
Mat nodded, reaching for her shoulder, but Rebecca winced when he touched it. "Don't" she said faintly. "Hurts."
"I know" he replied. "It's gonna hurt, but it'll make you better. Okay?"
She nodded weakly, still not with it. Her face was streaked with blood, but it didn't look like it was hers. Slowly her eyes opened. "Mat? Billy?" she said, her voice getting stronger. "What happened?"
"There was an accident" Mat said.
"That was no accident" Coen replied. He pointed to the burning van. "That was a mine. And where are our Umbrella friends? They had something to do with this, you mark my words."
Mat rolled his eyes, then turned back to Rebecca. "You know what I have to do, right?"
She nodded. "On my three."
"Okay. Ready?"
"One."
Mat reached down and put his hands on Rebecca's shoulder, the bones feeling…wrong in his hands.
She winced again when he touched her. "Two-"
BLAM!
Mat's hands jerked and Rebecca let out a pained scream.
"Sorry" Mat told Rebecca, then shifted his attention toward the source of the noise. "What the hell, man?"
Dean lowered his smoking shotgun. "Zombie" he said sheepishly. "He, uh, won't be messing with us again." He pointed to a headless body lying in the street, as if afraid they wouldn't believe him.
Coen shook his head, lowering his Colt. "Dumbass" he muttered.
"You okay?" Mat asked Rebecca.
She nodded. "Yeah. How about you? You look terrible."
Mat didn't doubt it. "You're not too great yourself."
"If you two are done here, maybe we can help the other people in there?" Coen said, irritably.
"Right" said Mat, standing up, then helping Rebecca. Once she was out of the way, he knelt back down, unclipped his flashlight, and shined it into the compartment. "Hello? Anybody awake in there?"
There was a collection of sleepy groans from inside, mostly from about fifteen elementary school-age children. He turned and sent a confused look at Rebecca. "Where'd they come from?"
"The Spencer Library" said an authoritative voice from inside. "Now, officer, if you'd be so kind to put out that blasted light and step aside, maybe we'd be able to get out."
Mat moved out of the way, then watched as one by one, over a dozen kids filled out of the van, followed by Maddie and an older woman dressed all in grey, holding an old Winchester double-barreled shotgun.
"Loretta, you're okay?" Rebecca asked, studying the grey woman.
She nodded curtly. "I'm well enough, Miss Chambers." She turned to Mat. "Now, Officer, would you mind explaining to me what's going on?"
"I don't know" he replied honestly, but that didn't do much to mollify the woman, Loretta, who glared at him like she'd just bitten down on an apple and found him inside.
"Well, why not?" she demanded. "You're the police, aren't you? Why don't you-?"
"Look, lady, give the guy a break, will you? He's doing his best here" interrupted Coen.
Mat stared at him in surprise. "You're sticking up for me now?"
Coen looked just as confused. "Yeah. I guess I am."
"Even after I hit you?"
Coen waggled a finger at him. "I'll let that slide. This time. But I'll have you know I've whipped whole-sale ass for a lot less than that."
Mat snorted. "Yeah, I can imagine."
Rebecca knelt down and began to help still more people trapped inside the clown car the RPD van had become. Maddie awkwardly stumbled out, then gave Mat the once over.
"I see you've managed to stay alive" she said dryly.
"I see you have, too" Mat replied, deadpan for deadpan. "And I see you've managed to keep my gun with you. I'm impressed."
"Yeah, well-" she began, only to break off when they heard a loud crack.
"Argh!" Dean shouted, dropping on his back, his face contorted in pain.
"Shit!" exclaimed Coen, dropping into a crouch, eyes darting everywhere. "Where'd that come from?"
Mat hunched over and sprinted for Dean, grabbing him by the shoulders and dragging him behind the van. "What happened?" the other man asked through gritted teeth.
"Looks like you managed to get shot" said Coen. "Rebecca! Rebecca, we need you!"
Rebecca emerged from the van, a Remington 870 in her hands, a look of confusion on her face when she saw Dean. "What's going on?" she asked.
Coen grabbed her behind the neck and forced her down. "Watch out, or you'll get your stupid head shot off!"
"Dean got hit" Mat explained. "Leg wound. I don't know where the shot came from."
"Here, let me see" said Rebecca, duck-walking over to him. She hunched over his outstretched leg, probing with her fingers. "Does that hurt?" she asked.
Dean gritted his teeth. "What do you think?"
"It's not too bad" Rebecca reported, her fingers coming away with still more blood on them. Through the open doors, Mat could see a body slumped in the van. He suspected it was that person's blood all over her.
"Easy for you to say" Dean snapped, irritably. "It's not your leg."
"Look" said Rebecca. "Here's the entry, and here's the exit wound. You got shot through and through, and it looks like it missed the bone. Small caliber bullet. Probably a .22 or .223, or something along those lines. We'll just bandage it up, and you'll be fine. A little slow, but that's not too bad."
"A little slow?" Dean repeated. "A little slow? In case you haven't noticed, we're in a city full of zombies! You think I want to be just a little slow?"
"Hey, be nice" said Mat absently, looking up. He could hear a noise in the distance, one that was steadily growing closer.
Two men had moved away from the third van and where making their way toward the second van, oblivious to what had just happened.
"You folks need help?" asked a civilian in greasy overalls. Mat thought his name was Kurt.
"Get down, you fucking-" Coen began.
Just then, the Umbrella truck sped around the corner, tires squealing. Carlos Oliveira, Rebecca's mercenary friend, was hanging out the passenger's side door. "Are you people insane?" he shouted. "Get moving!"
The two civilians were less than ten feet away when they both stopped. At first Mat thought they weren't moving because of the shouting Hispanic man, but then he saw a scarlet geyser erupt from Kurt's neck, blood spewing as his jugular was severed. The other man half turned to help him, just as Chase fired his M14 at something on the roof to their left. There was a startled cry of pain from above.
Then the other man spun around, his back to them, his intestines spilling from his newly opened belly. He fell to his knees, just as something rammed itself into the back of his head.
Mat saw a shimmering something behind the dying man, and without thinking jerked up the Colt and fired three shots into it.
There was a gasp, two flashes of blood, and like magic, a man in a strange rippled poncho seemed to materialize out of thin air. He spun, hands in the air, an HK G3 rifle falling from suddenly limp fingers as he collapsed beside the two men he'd just murdered.
Holy shit Mat realized. I. Just. Killed a man.
He didn't have long to dwell on that development, though. Because before the dead soldier had fallen into the street, the world erupted into madness.
(CHASE)
He watched the sharpshooter on top of the brownstone throw up his hands, a scope-sighted M16 clattering to the street, the body slumping over the edge, blood running down the bricks. Chase shifted his aim, looking for another target, the M14's scope flaring whenever it passed over a burning building in the distance. He'd swapped out for a thermal model before leaving the station; after what Mat had said about roving gangs, it seemed like a good idea to have something useful against the living.
The would-be marksman on the roof had been exceptionally hot (Chase didn't know it, but he was also invisible to the naked eye), so he was looking for any other equally hot bodies, when he heard a handgun open fire a little ways ahead of him. He lowered the rifle to see two civilians on the ground, followed by a man who seemed to appear from nowhere. Mat stood there, staring at the smoking Colt in his hands for a minute, as if wondering what had just happened. Unfortunately, nobody was going to have much time for contemplation.
Suddenly bullets began to fly from all directions, short bursts of fire from assault rifles and longer, sustained thunderings from what could only be light machineguns. Chase watched a Homicide cop get torn to shreds, the pavement behind him shattering under repeated impacts. Another officer spun around, his head simply gone, turned to a bloody mist.
"Ambush!" yelled one of the civilians, a big black guy in a security uniform named Mark. He said he was a 'Nam vet, and judging by the way he zigzagged down the street, Chase was willing to believe him.
He heard a whistling sound, then saw something white streak out of one window, slam into a parked car, and blast it and the two people using it for cover to pieces. He brought the M14 to his shoulder, sighted on the window the smoke billowed from, and fired twice. There was a cry from inside, but Chase didn't have time to savor the second kill before someone slammed into, knocking him into the gutter.
"Stay down, sir!" shouted Karen Danvers, one of the few SPF officers still alive. A second later, machinegun fire tore through the street where he'd just been standing.
"Uh…thanks" he said, rising to his knee, bringing the battle rifle up and looking for a new target. He heard Karen open fire with her UMP, a powerful .45 submachine gun a few seconds later, blasting at the windows.
Chase paused a moment to take stock of the situation. He and Karen, along with the doctor and the waitress, were hiding behind a big blue minivan. About a dozen feet away, on the other side of the street, were Earl Givens (a Vice cop), the smelly mechanic, that bitch reporter, and the little Asian girl. They'd taken cover behind a sedan, Earl and David firing handguns blindly into the air, more for suppression than anything else. Further up, Mark, Kevin, Rita, and a couple of other civilians were holding position behind the third van. Mat, Rebecca, the former Marine, and still more civilians, mostly children but for a tough middle-aged woman with a shotgun, were behind the second van. A few other officers were in cover where they could find it, but they were quickly getting bracketed by overlapping fields of fire and being shot to pieces.
Gotta get us off the street Chase realized. This block was the perfect kill box. He needed to get his people moving, before they were all shot down.
He tapped Karen on the shoulder. "On three, I want you to run over to Lincoln" he said, pointing to a redheaded cop firing an M16 from his belly about twenty feet away. "I'll cover you, then you two both cover me, okay?"
Karen gulped visibly, her face pale, eyes wide. Then she nodded. "Got it sir."
"Good" said Chase. "Go, now!"
Karen clutched her German SMG to her chest and dashed madly to Lincoln, diving behind the car he was using for cover, then waving for Chase to follow.
Chase was about to break cover, when he heard a new sound. The Umbrella mercenaries had set up around their white flatbed, allowing their mounted machinegun to open up. The Browning .50 began to tear the buildings around it to shreds.
"Get some!" shouted one of the soldiers, pumping a fist in the air as the big Samoan gunner kept firing, a grim look on his face, his muscles bulging on his naked arms, sweat pouring from his body.
Then a bullet slammed into his stomach, blood splashing out. The man grunted, but kept shooting, spraying fire into the window the shot had come from. But more bullets continued to hail down on him, one striking his left bicep. The man growled, his arm dropping limply to the side, the gun briefly yawing the right. But the big man managed to get it back under control, still keeping the enemy's attention.
Chase looked over to seen Karen and Lincoln arguing, Lincoln pointing down the street, Karen shaking her head and pointing at Chase. "Fine, fuck you then!" the redheaded cop shouted, before breaking cover and tearing down the street. Bullets flew past him, but he ducked and dodged, M16 clutched to his chest, hunkering down, managing to avoid any hits. Chase watched as he sprinted past a wide-eyed Mat, barreling down the road.
He'd almost made it to the corner, when Chase noticed something odd attached to a pair of cars: fist-sized, black metal plates, with a laser running between them. "Oh shit" he muttered, just as Lincoln ran between them…and was blown to bloody pieces in the resulting explosion.
It was an ambush, and now it was clear the streets weren't safe. He'd have to think of something else.
The gunfire from the machinegun suddenly stopped. Chase looked over to see the big man slumped over, slapping at a geyser of blood spraying from his throat. Then he shuddered and slipped into the bed.
"Chyort!" shouted one of the soldiers, while Oliveira, the one who'd been directing them, pointed at the turret.
"Someone get on that .50!" he shouted. When no one volunteered, he started to climb into the bed himself. Just then, another RPG slammed into the engine of the truck, blasting it to pieces. Oliveira was thrown backward, slamming into the street. Deprived of cover, the other soldiers scattered, running in all directions…only to have half of them die in seconds, cut down by fire from all sides.
"Shit!" Chase shouted, ducking down as bullets whizzed and snapped over his head. He looked over, to see Karen waving at him to move up. A bullet cracked past her head and she ducked down, hunching small behind the car. A tire popped, air hissing out, the vehicle slumping over. She was about to be exposed, and then these bastards, whoever they were, were going to shoot her, then shoot him.
Time to live dangerously he thought, then sprinted wildly across the street. He heard bullets fly past him, tearing into the building behind him. But he managed to make it without anything worse than some minor cuts form flying shrapnel, so he was willing to call it a win.
"We can't stay here" he told Karen, ejecting the M14's magazine and checking it. Two shots. He shoved it into his pocket and pulled out a fresh one, rocking it into place. "We've gotta link up with the others."
Karen nodded slowly. "Okay, sir." She was shaking, visibly scared. He realized this was probably the first time she'd actually been under fire, and watching Lincoln get blown to pieces probably hadn't helped any.
"It's gonna be okay" he said. "I promise. We're gonna get through this."
"How do you know, sir?"
He smiled briefly, then punched her shoulder lightly. "Look at this jaw, look at your eyes" he said, tapping his chin. "We are just too damn pretty to die. Okay?"
Karen nodded slowly, smiling faintly. "Thanks, sir."
"Okay. We've got to go, now" he said, pointing to the third van, where most of the police had gathered. You first. I'll watch your back, 'kay?"
She nodded, the without another second of hesitation, turned and sprinted forward. Bullets tore past her, but Chase followed the muzzle flashes, putting fire through every window he saw a shooter. Karen reached the van, then turned and motioned for him to follow.
Chase started to follow, only to look behind his back for a minute. He wasn't sure what made him turn around, but he did…and saw the Umbrella mercenary, Oliveira, still stretched out on the street. Except, he wasn't dead, like Chase had originally thought. He was stirring, shaking himself awake, unaware he was in danger.
"Son of a bitch" he muttered to himself, weighing his options. Then, before he had the chance to talk himself out of it, he turned and ran back the way he'd come.
He heard the cops at the third van shouting at him, telling him to come back, but he ignored him, just as he ignored the bullets now flying past his body. He dropped to one knee beside Oliveira, slinging the M14 over his back and kicking the prone man in the side. "Up and at 'em, brother" he shouted. Oliveira groaned a little, starting to prop himself up, but things weren't moving quite fast enough for Chase's liking, so he simply grabbed the smaller man and bodily slung him over his shoulder, like a firefighter, before running back toward the other officers.
He saw bewilderment on Kevin's face, awe on Karen's, and shock on the others as he dropped Oliveira down at their feet, then sat back, leaning against a dead car, ignoring the bullets still freely flying in the street.
"Damn, sir" Kevin said, shaking his head. "Just…damn."
"Nothing to it, Detective" Chase replied, shaking his head, catching his breath, amazed he'd managed to not shit his pants on the way. He'd never been so scared in his life.
"What now, sir?" Rita asked.
"We've got to set up good fire positions" he replied. "Get everybody close enough together we can provide support." He called out to Earl over at the opposite end of the street. "C'mon, we'll cover you."
Earl didn't look too thrilled about the prospect. He turned and conferred with David a moment, who cupped a hand over his mouth and shouted "Why don't you come to me?"
"Fuck you!" Kevin shouted back. "Come to us!"
Earl grumbled to himself, then sprinted across the street. He made it about halfway before a bullet found his head, his brain exploding through the side of his skull, his body spinning, dropping to the concrete.
"Shit!" Chase exclaimed.
"Any more bright ideas?" David shouted.
Kevin shook his head. "You know, I really hate that guy."
Then Chase heard something even worse yelled from down the street.
"They're coming!" the marine was shouting, pointing over the side of the van he hid behind. "Tangos. Lots of 'em. And they've got some heavy firepower."
(BILLY)
"Who are these guys?" Dean asked, clutching his shotgun close to his chest. This was a gunfight with range, meaning he was out of it.
"I dunno" Dawson said, clicking the fire-selector switch on his P90 to full-auto. "Why don't I ask?"
Before Billy could suggest otherwise, Dawson stood up and opened fire with his SMG. He heard a grunt and saw one of the black-clad soldiers go down, the others diving for cover. Then return fire cut through the air, and Dawson was back to crouching with the others.
"Look familiar?" he asked Billy, who nodded.
"Yeah. Just like those Umbrella guys at the station."
"These guys are just as friendly" Dawson replied. "And they're packing serious weaponry. I counted three guys with G36s with drum magazines. You can lay down a lot of hurt with those."
Billy nodded again. The G36, HK's 5.56mm assault rifle, was a nasty piece of work on its own. It had good stability, accuracy, and was almost as versatile as an Ak-47. Add the big, fifty-round drum mag to the weapon, and many people stopped calling it the Gewehr 36 and started calling it the Machine Gun, or MG, 36. That designation was wrong…but not by much.
"What else did you see?"
"Not much" Dawson replied. "Maybe an M249, or one of those Belgian machineguns. I can never tell them apart. Want me to look again?"
"No, you almost got your head taken off last time" Billy replied, surprised Dawson was letting him take the lead.
"What do we do?" Rebecca asked. She was squatting at the back of the van, in front of the kids, who they'd coaxed back inside for safety.
"We can't stay here. We've got to get into one of the buildings. Find some cover and get out of this nightmare."
"Can you fall back?" the sniper cop, Chase, shouted from his position.
Billy shook his head. "Negative. We've got kids here. I don't wanna try to move them."
Billy heard the other man's M14 crack and saw something topple from a window, landing hard on the street. A second later, an honest to God Soviet issue RPD machinegun followed.
"Okay, then we'll come to you" Chase began. "Cover us!"
Billy turned to Dawson. He was finding it harder to think of him as an adversary, despite what they'd been through. Now they'd been under fire together, and that changed their dynamic. He suspected the other man was having a similar change of heart. "Well Mat, you heard the man. Ready to kick some ass?"
Mat nodded. "Sure thing, Lieutenant."
They stood up in unison and opened fire. Billy still only had the M1911, but Mat kept up a pretty good stream with the P90, and he managed to flush an enemy soldier out of cover. The man scrambled back, trying to bring his gun to bear, but Billy shot him twice with his handgun, dropping him to the ground, then shot him twice more when the wounded soldier tried to draw a pistol of his own and crawl away.
He heard gunfire from behind him, and risked a glance over his shoulder. Chase had taken cover behind a car and was shooting at the soldiers ahead of them, but apparently a few other soldiers had flanked them, because Billy could see David and the blonde woman shooting at soldiers converging on them from behind. He saw David empty his Model 29 into two soldiers, flip the magnum over and hurl it at the head of the third, then rush the staggering man, flicking out a switch blade, which he deftly slashed across the dazed soldier's throat. Then he grabbed the quiet girl who'd been hunkering behind the car's arm and dragged her toward the others, not waiting for the blonde, who realized she was on her own a few seconds later and dashed after them, clearly yelling obscenities lost in the gunfire.
Some of the Umbrella mercenaries made their way forward, laying down cover fire. One dropped down behind a car a few feet from where Billy crouched, a strange looking gadget on his arm. He stood up, taking careful aim down some sort of green tinted scope. He must've pulled some kind of internal trigger, because there was a puff from the weapon and a metal dart shot forward, toward a concrete highway divider the other soldiers were using for cover.
Just then, one such soldier stood up to fire his weapon. The mercenary must've aimed a little too high, because the dart didn't hit concrete, but the soldier's leg, just to the right of his groin.
The man looked down in horror at the blinking light at the end of the dart. "Fuck!" he shouted, a second before exploding.
Billy shifted his aim toward the buildings, squeezing off shots at the soldier he knew was there.
He heard a crash and looked over to see Kevin, the cop who was a dead ringer for Tom Cruise, kick open a door, then sweep it clear with his .45. He turned to Rebecca and the kids. "Over here!" he shouted. "Quick!"
"Come along children" said Loretta, the fussy librarian. "Listen to Officer Ryman and let's go." Without a care in the world, she calmly made her way forward. Her calm was apparently infectious, because none of the kids made a sound as they hurried after her.
Suddenly smoke began to fill the far end of the street. "What the hell?" Kevin asked, kneeling between Mat and Billy, ready to help Dean inside. "Now what?"
"Fall back!" he heard a voice shout from one of the buildings. "Withdraw, all Manta units. Mission code NEMESIS is in effect. The Tyrant's on its way. Get the hell out of its way!" Rebecca and Mat's faces went pale.
"Tyrant?" Billy asked. "What's that?"
Billy squinted over the van. He could see something else moving down the street. It was black and powerfully built, and as it got closer, Billy realized it was also huge, at least nine feet tall.
"The fuck is that?" Chase asked, kneeling on one side of the van, poking his rifle out.
"Remember the big naked thing we fought underground?" Rebecca asked. "That was a failed prototype Tyrant. They only get nastier."
"Well, it's coming for a visit" Chase said grimly. "How do we kill this son of a bitch?"
"Well, Chris took down the last one we saw with a rocket launcher" Mat offered.
"A rocket?" Chase echoed. "Jesus! Any more…practical ideas?"
"The last one had a big heart" Rebecca suggested. "Maybe try shooting for that?"
"Here goes" he said, standing up and taking a few shots at the monster slowly stomping toward them. Billy watched bullets strike the monster's outer covering, a big, thick, oily looking trench coat. He saw puffs appear on the fabric, but no other signs of damage. Not even two shots to the face slowed the thing down.
Then the monster growled and leveled its own weapon. Billy felt his blood run cold as he recognized it: a GAU something or other, a high powered minigun like what was mounted on the A-10 Warthog. Slowly, horribly, the weapon's barrels began to spin.
"Son of a bitch!" Chase shouted, throwing himself flat. The others did likewise as huge, armor piercing bullets tore through the armored car. The thing let out a bellow of rage, advancing under its own little umbrella of suppressive fire.
"We gotta take that thing out" Chase was saying.
"I have an idea" Billy replied. Without waiting for a response, he turned and ran toward the third van, the one he'd been in when everything went to hell. He dashed among the Umbrella mercenaries. One tried to grab for him, but was blown to pieces by the monster's minigun.
Billy ran past David and the two women. "The fuck are you going?" the mechanic shouted after him, but Billy ignored his voice. He had one goal, and he was so close to reaching it.
Then he heard massive footsteps behind him, and realized he wasn't going to make it. He turned just in time to see the monster looming over him. In that brief moment, he caught a glimpse of just how hideous the thing was. It was facially disfigured, even more so than the previous Tyrant he and Rebecca had fought. In addition to its lips, some kind soul had also removed its ears and one eye. A series of huge, industrial, Frankenstein-esque staples ran along a big cut where its right eye ought to have been. Huge chords of something stood out on its sickly grey neck, the only part of its body visible apart from its enormous, paw-like hands. Then it slammed its forearm into Billy's stomach, driving the wind out of him and sending him sprawling. It leveled the minigun, ready to finish the job. Billy braced for death.
"Billy!" At Rebecca's cry, the monster looked up, the barrels of its minigun stopping. Slowly the beast scanned for the source of the noise. Its one good eye focused back on the van it had passed in its pursuit of Billy, and roared. "STARS…" it growled, its voice oddly mechanical. Then, as if it had forgotten all about Billy, it spun on its massive heels and ran after Rebecca.
Billy heard the others open fire, bullets striking the monster, but doing nothing to slow it down. Casually it backhanded Kevin, sending the man sprawling. It ignored Mat and Chase, until Mat got between it and Rebecca, when it let out an infuriated snarl and slammed him into the bottom of the van. Rebecca drew her handgun and opened fire, trying to protect her friend, and for a moment it seemed conflicted, trying to decide which it wanted to kill more: Mat or Rebecca. It balled up its huge fist, ready to crush one of them under its awesome power.
Then Chase shot it in the knee with his M14, and it let out a howl, dropping down on one knee, supporting its massive weight on its undamaged leg and one fist.
"C'mon!" Chase shouted, grabbing for Dean. Rebecca managed to rouse Mat and Kevin, and they started for the building Kevin had opened. Then the monster stood back up, spinning up its minigun, and they all froze..
Then, the monster exploded in a flash of fire, stumbling, dropping the ruined weapon, staring at its blistered hands.
Billy broke open the M79, dropping the spent shell and loading a fresh one. He'd brought the weapon with him from the station, but hadn't thought it'd be necessary…until it suddenly was. "Come on!" he shouted, firing the weapon again, this time from the hip. The Tyrant was a big target, but he was still surprised when he managed to hit it square in the chest, causing it to stumble.
Mat unslung his P90 and opened fire as well, but his armor piercing bullets still didn't have enough get up and go to get through the thing's skin. They did manage to piss the thing off, though, because it spun to face Mat, growling and striding purposefully forward.
No you stupid kid, move! Billy silently screamed. He brought the M79 to his shoulder and fired again, the shell striking the monster square between the shoulder blades. A few others were shooting at the creature, but it ignored them. It was like it had focused in on Mat for some reason, and wasn't going to be dissuaded until he was dead.
"STARS" it bellowed again.
"C'mon!" Chase shouted.
Mat turned to him. "Get Rebecca out of here. I'll lure it away."
"Are you insane?" Chase snapped, shaking his head. "Come on, let's go."
"You heard that thing" Rebecca protested. "It's after me, not you."
"I think it wants us all" he replied. "Everybody who was in the mansion back in July. It's out for blood. Our own personal revenge killer." He turned to look at the monster, which was getting closer, despite everything Billy could do to slow it down. "There's no more time. Go on. I'll catch up."
"Promise me" Rebecca said.
Mat looked at her for a minute, then nodded. "I'll be back."
"Promise me" she repeated.
"Come on" Chase said through gritted teeth.
Mat leaned forward and kissed Rebecca's cheek. "I promise. Now go!" Without waiting, he vaulted over the van, brought his P90 up, and shot the Tyrant again. "Come on you bastard, come on!"
Slowly, ponderously, the Tyrant turned and began to follow. Billy watched Chase lead Rebecca inside, then broke open the M79 again and slid in a new shell. He was running out of those, but it was the only thing he had that could slow down the monster. He had no intention of letting Mat Dawson martyr himself, despite whatever the younger man had in mind.
But Mat was proving capable of taking care of himself. He darted forward, running into the midst of the soldiers who'd broken cover to watch the RPD fight the Tyrant. They stared at each other in confusion, apparently unsure whether to try to shoot him or get out of the way.
Then the Tyrant was among them, and it turned into a massacre. The monster probably would've let them go if they'd just stood aside, but they kept getting between it and Mat, so it kept flattening. The soldiers were sprawled out, broken and bleeding, in a matter of seconds.
Mat turned to fire his P90 again, but the thing was apparently closer than he'd thought, because it grabbed him by the throat, hoisting him into the air with one handed. Mat gagged and kicked at the monster, but its huge paw was clasped around his neck, and he couldn't free himself.
Billy stopped within a few feet of the two, weighing his options. The M79 might cause the thing to drop Mat…but the 40mm grenade might also kill him. Still, if he didn't act fast, that was going to happen anyway.
Billy watched as a strange yellowish mist began to form around the Tyrant's free hand. A long, pinkish appendage extended from its wrist like a spear. Time to act he thought, raising the M79.
He aimed the weapon at Tyrant…then shifted up a little, aiming at the highway overpass above. More specifically, at one vehicle parked there in particular.
He saw Mat yank his knife from its sheath and slam it into the Tyrant's wrist, burying the blade to the hilt. The monster howled in pain and dropped him to the street. Mat sat there for a moment, staring up at the huge monster as it raised its boot go crush him.
Billy fired, Mat rolled out of the way, there was an explosion, a crash, and a groan of metal. The Tyrant looked up just in time to see the armored car as it plummeted down at it like something from an old cartoon. Then the car hit the monster and flattened it like a pancake.
Mat sat on the ground for a moment, panting, massaging his neck, his face pale. Then he looked over at Billy. "Thanks" he said weakly. "Thanks for that."
Billy shrugged, walking over to help him up. "Hell kid, that was nothing. Next time, you can save me. Sound fair?"
He was almost to Mat when the car shifted, falling to its side…and revealing the Tyrant still on its feet.
"Bullshit!" he exclaimed, leveling the M79. "I dropped a fucking armored car on you! I call bullshit!"
Mat shakily stood up, leveling the P90 and opening fire. The monster turned, swung its wrist, and casually backhanded him, sending him sprawling. Then it turned its attention toward Billy.
"Oh shit" he muttered, stepping back, breaking the M79 open, loading it, then preparing to fire from the hip. He needed to do it fast; otherwise the thing would get too close and he'd be caught in the explosion.
Then he noticed a trail of liquid flowing down the street. His eyes darted back its source, where Mat had kicked over a big, red drum of what had to be something explosive. He saw the other man drawing his handgun. Shit. "Oh, hell-!" he shouted, but Mat ignored him, leveling the Colt.
"Burn, you son of a bitch" he said, pulling the trigger.
Billy dove clear, the flames shooting across the gasoline, rising high, higher than the Tyrant was tall. It let out a bellow of rage, cut off from Billy, who was safely on the outside of the partial ring of fire Mat had created.
That meant Mat was on the other side, though. Trapped with the monster.
"Go!" he shouted, waving, motioning Billy to leave him. "There's nothing you can do. Get out of here. And tell Rebecca…tell her I'm sorry."
The monster threw back its head and bellowed, a long, loud, wordless roar at the early morning sky.
"Come on! Come on and finish it!" Billy heard Mat shout, opening fire with the P90. Then he turned and ran.
End of Part Two