Chapter Three: Hell's Backyard

I returned to my task, stripping the bodies of anything usable. Branson just stood there- splotches of blood and someone's guts running down the front of his tactical vest. His face was full of shock. I knew that if this rookie didn't get it together, he wouldn't be walking away from this place. I quit pulling ammunition from one of the men's belts and looked up at him. He was holding his weapon, but it was hanging from his hand as if he was about to drop it at any minute.

"Branson! Help me get this equipment outta here. You wanna die or you wanna live! We have to grab what we can and get out of here. I'm sure zombies are on their way to this spot as we speak! Now stop standing there and start helping me grab some of this stuff!" I said, very sternly.

He looked at me a minute, then went and started stripping the other bodies of their servicable ammunition and knives. I was collecting as many ammo clips as I could, and found out that some of the weapons were still able to fire- although I wouldn't really place my bets on firing a weapon that had been point blank in an explosion.

Damn sloppy...really DAMN sloppy...sht...

I didn't know what to think. This had been very unthought of. Umbrella was expecting our team to regroup with the others at the LZ, but how many of those poor suckers would make it anyway? I knew for a fact that Umbrella personnel weren't expecting us to really make it back. Hell, the lucky ones were the pilots who flew those birds. They got to walk away from everything.

I finished with the last body and snapped my fingers at Branson, who was trying to pry the ammo clip from E.J.'s weapon. I shook my head at him and stopped him from wasting time with it.

"Leave it. If it didn't eject in two seconds, chances are you won't get it out now. We're finished here, so let's go." I said, then started towards the front of the building.

Branson was back behind me, looking around wildly. He was scared, and had every reason to be. This mission wouldn't be a cake walk. It would demand the precision of every skill we had ever learned as a member of the U.C.B.S. and U.S.F.teams. Taking this place lightly was not in the best interest- especially if we wanted to make it out alive. I knew that already, with any luck- the rookie would know it too, if he made it out alive.

There was nothing else to do here, we'd salvaged what we could. I grabbed the sling of the machine gun hanging from my shoulder and switched the safety lever off. I looked over at Branson and gave a short military gesture to move forward.

"Alright- we're moving out onto the street. You'll cover me, I'll take point. Since there's only two of us, I need you to be on your game right now. That's the only way we'll make it through this." I told him.

Branson lifted his HR automatic and nodded at me. He flicked off the safety switch and took position beside me.

"I'm with you. Let's get it done." He sounded shaky, but he was still in the fight for now.

I walked out of the front of the building and onto the sidewalk, sweeping from side to side with the gun sight in front of me. Branson was covering our backs and he was breathing hard. I snapped the velcro buckles together on my ammo belt with one hand and observed the street. Since I knew that the street was mostly deserted, I was hoping that nothing was following us. Then it suddenly dawned on me to make sure.

"Branson- what the hell happened after E.J. locked the door behind me?" I said, still sweeping the gun from left to right as we walked. He gave a dry cough in response to my question, then he told me.

"I'm still trying to figure that out. Something came through the window and practically started wiping the floor with us. It got Marcus and Richards before we even knew what was happening. Then it snapped Carson's neck with that long azz tongue it had. Didn't have skin or eyes, but that tongue and those claws made up for it."

I nodded as I continued making my sweep of the perimeter. A long tongue? One guess as to what the attacker had been.

"You guys got marked by a Licker. Must've set up a kill zone and we walked right into it. Did you see anymore of them- or was it just the one?" I continued sweeping the perimeter in front of me.

Branson coughed again. "Just the one. We were firing everything we could, but it just went back out the window that it crashed through."

"Be glad it was just the one. A pack of them- and we wouldn't be talking about it. You'd be dead." I told him. Branson sniffed, and I gave him the explanation behind my statement.

"Lickers...are the ultimate watchdogs- they hunt in packs and are damn near indestructible. Incredible sensory perception- those things can track a scent up to ten miles or more. I'll tell you now, if you see one- stop moving. If you try to run, it'll kill you." I said.

I heard Branson shutter behind me. No doubt the appearance of the creature had unsettled him. This day was sure to get even more nightmarish by the time that it was over. In the end, he'd have a better understanding of why working for the Umbrella Corporation in this line of work was not something you simply retired from.

"Umbrella really put us on the spot this time," I said. " And those drop pilots aren't going to wait for us either. We'll either make it to the DZ or die getting there."

Branson's breathing was harsh, but I knew he was trying to restrain himself as much as he could. It was almost a Hallmark moment- to see him trying so hard to adapt to a situation that the Umbrella scenarios never even came close to. If we made it out of this place, hell- I'd put in a commendation for the kid myself.

The streets were still strangely silent and deserted. The zombie hordes weren't aware of our intrusion into their territory, which was good. I'd figured that the explosion would've brought them out, but it seemed as if this part of the city had been abandoned by the monters. They'd moved on, looking for new victims.

We reached the intersection and took a knee. As we both scanned the perimeters around us, Branson let out another breath.

"I gotta question for you," he told me. "You seem to know everything about this situation. Is there anything worse than those creatures that killed the others?"

I stood up and guaged the intersection crossing as clear. Slinging the weapon on my back for a second, I grabbed the monoscope strapped to my vest and took a look ahead at the street. In the distance, black smoke billowed from a series of ruined vehicles. Nothing was moving up there, but that didn't mean that we wouldn't be moving into a dangerous situation. I replaced the scope and unslung the weapon.

"Branson," I said. "The one thing that I am sure of is that there are more than enough things in this city that want to kill us. Believe me, there's nothing more true than that."

I took a minute to grab a sip of water from my canteen, then placed it back in its pouch. I wiped my mouth, and looked down at Branson. He was grabbing a drink from his canteen as well, and I concentrated on the street ahead of us. As I looked around at the ruined city blocks, I let out a sharp whistle.

Branson stepped up beside me. We were strangers in a strange land, and the trip was certainly to be an interesting one. I looked at Branson and he looked at me.

"What's the plan, boss?" Branson asked, as he wiped some sweat from his forehead and looked up at the sky. I looked at him and nodded my head.

"We got a lot of ground to cover before we get to the DZ. Umbrella Command HQ isn't here. We're authorized to terminate anything that doesn't identify itself with extreme prejudice."

We both looked around and clicked the safeties off on our semi-automatic machine guns.

"The plan? It's time to put your game face on, Branson. We wanna make it out, we got to do this right. Got me?" I said.

Branson hefted the machine gun and his face got serious. He nodded at me, and I nodded back. It was time to get the job done.