Leon made it to the "Pueblo" and knew that it was a good time to reload his gun. Four subjects were roaming around in the courtyard, three male and one female. They all carried pitchforks and axes. There wasn't too much to this pueblo: four small houses, a large church, a tower, and several pathetic-looking huts.

It would appear to be a calming farming scene, sans the big bonfire roasting Miguel right in the middle of the courtyard. Leon shook his head in disbelief. These people were sick.

Ingrid had contacted him again, informing him of a possible exit in the north of the village. Of course, the problem was getting to it without the villagers spotting him, which is going to prove very difficult.

Clenching his gun tightly, Leon slipped around the back, hoping to make it to the exit with all his limbs intact.

He was pissed at Anya. Beyond pissed. He had thought that having her as his partner would ensure that they would both get out alive; he'd watch her back, and she would watch his. Anya had proven her skills at the academy time and time again, so when Leon was told that she was to be his partner, he was happy, even relieved, to have someone that intelligent and skilled with him. However, she had proven that she obviously was not up for this assignment, and that she didn't care enough about him to see him through it.

As much as he wanted to, he really couldn't blame her. The disaster in Whelling was about as bad as Raccoon City incident, if not worse. She had barely made it out alive, dealing with the same monsters and horrors as he had in Raccoon.

And she saw her family die.

Leon couldn't compare anything to that.

Wait…. Ada.

Leon quickly put that at the back of his mind when he attempted to sneak from one building to another. There were five subjects out in the courtyard now. He hadn't seen the one with the wheel barrel.

But he saw Leon.

He pointed and screamed, "Un forestero!"

Heart racing, Leon ran and kicked open the door of the nearest house. Lucky for him, there was no one in there. Backing himself into a corner, Leon settled his gun on the door and waited.

The door burst open, and in came the villagers. Leon used seven rounds, all of which were headshots, but the natives kept getting up and approaching.

Shit.

Leon reloaded, using his training to try to keep calm and stop his fingers from shaking too hard. The asshole with the wheel barrel earlier ran towards him. Leon snap kicked him, causing him to plow into his neighbors behind him. That would give Leon some time, not much, but some.

The window next to him shattered. More were coming in.

He was outnumbered.

His mind frantically went back to his training, trying to remember some tactic that would help him escape over ten murderous villagers with farm tools who were obsessed with killing him.

Leon was unable to come up with anything that would help. There wasn't any kind of scheme for this because this kind of shit wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to let himself get so vulnerable. Trapped in a corner? Ha. His instructor back at the Academy would piss himself from laughing so hard.

Leon shot another villager. She didn't die.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Leon shoved some villagers aside and jumped over the window. Once outside, he sprinted around the house and went around to the front.

More were coming from the north. Fifteen, sixteen….twenty of them.

Run for the exit.

It was barred shut, the heavy wooden plank secured tightly in its place.

He was done for.

The nearest villager raised their sickle, but suddenly jerked forward, as if he were hit from behind. He fell to the ground, a knife sticking out of his head. Most of the natives turned their attention from Leon to find the knife now deeply embedded in their comrade's head. Leon turned and ran for the nearest house, kicking open the door and reloading. Wasting no time, he pushed a cupboard in front of the door, but he knew that wouldn't hold forever.

Shit, I would take the zombies over these guys any day, Leon thought miserably, keeping his gun set for the door. He'd try to pick them off one by one again.

While Leon waited impatiently for the villagers, he heard several high whistle-sounding shots. He strained his ears. It sounded like a bullet searing through the air. Could the bastards fire guns, too?

Preparing for the worst, Leon looked out the broken window.

The villagers weren't coming for Leon's fort. In fact, they seemed to have lost total interest in him. All their attention was fixated on the tall tower. Leon's perfect vision was able to make out the muzzle of a gun poking out of the window frame.

A sniper.

Leon couldn't hide his grin when he realized who it was.

Anya was taking out villagers left and right, the bullets finding their marks perfectly. Even from the fifty-foot tower, Anya could still make headshots like it was nobody's business.

The girl had skills.

Leon's smile disappeared, however, when he noticed the locals setting something on fire. They threw it high into the air, and whatever it was exploded horrendously against the side of the tower. Leon could see Anya shield herself from the blast.

Leon could barely believe it – they were throwing Molotov Cocktails. The smart bastards.

Leon raised his gun and began firing on the villagers. The first five bullets hit their mark, one woman's head exploding clear off her shoulders in a shower of dark blood and guts.

This gave Anya the distraction she needed. She reloaded at lightning speed and aimed down at one man who had lit up a Molotov Cocktail not a second earlier. Anya stared through the scope and pulled the trigger. The makeshift bomb exploded, taking down the man and several of his buddies.

Smiling like a little kid in a candy store, Anya aimed again and continued to fire. She had to keep on the offense; otherwise they were going to kill her partner, who had stupidly let himself get cornered before.

She had tried to leave earlier, it was true (her stomach still knotted in guilt for subjecting Leon as bait), but when she had discovered that her and her partner were being watched (the villagers hiding in the forest about twenty feet away) she knew that she was going to have to use Leon as bait. If the people thought that Leon was by himself, then they would turn all their attentions on him, allowing her to sneak in without having to deal with any hostile villagers. She wondered how Leon was going to react when he discovered her true intentions. Of course, she wouldn't have carried out her plan if she didn't think Leon was capable of taking care of himself. The villagers may be hostile, but Leon was the one with the training and the gun. He'd be okay for now.

After allowing the villagers in the forest to run ahead, perhaps to warn the others that Leon was officially by himself, she hadn't taken the main path that Leon was dumb enough to take. Anya had found a small outcropping to climb on, and was able to climb up on the cliffs overlooking the different paths. Not too many villagers traveled the cliffs too often, but Anya almost triggered traps more times than she would like to count. She shuddered just thinking about getting her leg stuck in a bear trap, or walking between those trip wires.

Anya caught sight of Leon on the pathway a few times, but she had gotten so far ahead of him, that she thought it best to just enter the pueblo and see what she could find. She almost burst into tears when she saw several crazy villagers doing their chores. Luckily, she snuck around the shacks on the northeast corner (the most deserted area) and she only encountered one surprised woman coming out of the smaller huts, a garden shear in her hand.

The woman's eyes grew wide for a moment when she saw Anya, but Anya didn't give her a chance to scream out a warning. The young agent grabbed the woman's head and twisted it until a sharp crack sounded. Anya was going to drag the body back into the hut, but the body dissolved into the ground before she even grasped the dead woman's feet. Anya stared in astonishment as the body, simply melted away into the dirt floor. The only things remaining were the woman's clothes and boots. She'd have to discuss this with Leon later.

Anya had stayed in the hut, watching the activities and trying to think of a decent plan that might actually work. She wondered what Geoff would say about this predicament.

Several times a villager passed by her hiding spot, causing Anya to dodge from the window and hide down into the corner. Lucky enough, the natives never came into the house, just continued grunting and speaking in hostile Spanish.

She wondered why these damn houses didn't have any doors. It didn't make any sense. Of course, none of this shit made any sense, so why would door-less houses?

Anya hid in the hut for about fifteen minutes, waiting for Leon to arrive. She wanted to speak with Ingrid so that maybe the advisor could tell her Leon's exact whereabouts, but Anya couldn't risk the noise. He had to come to the village anyways; there was no way to bypass it.

When she heard someone scream in Spanish, she knew that Leon was in the area. She peeked out the window and saw the villagers drop what they were doing and run toward the house just thirty feet away from her.

With the coast clear, Anya bolted from her spot, ran between the tower and two-story house and came face-to-face with a native. With reflexes too fast for her liking, the man threw an axe at her head. Anya quickly ducked, took out her own survival knife, and chucked it expertly into his face. The blade sunk easily between his eyes. He fell backwards onto the ground.

Anya ran forward to retrieve her knife. It pulled out easily and Anya wiped the blood off with the man's shirt.

Ugh, these bastards smell like shit.

She heard several gunshots from within the one-story house. Leon was putting up one hell of a fight.

But suddenly, she saw him running out into the courtyard, villagers following him quickly.

One man was approaching too fast. Anya hurled her knife once more across the courtyard, the knife ending up in the back of the native's head.

Before the other villagers could turn in her direction, Anya dashed to the tower ladder and climbed up. Once at the very top, she swiftly set up her sniper rifle and took the bullets out of her belt to set them on the floor for easy access.

This was her thing, aside from decoding and computers. She was the best aim in the whole academy and now she needed to perform to her very best, otherwise she was going to lose her partner.

Once she blew up the guy with the cocktail, she heard a horrible sound. At first, she thought she had imagined it, but the sound continued.

The sound of a chainsaw.

No, in the name of God, please no, Anya thought, horrified.

Anya looked out the window. Yep. A man with a chainsaw came jogging out of the southwest exit. Anya peered through her sniper scope. The psycho looked like he came right out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, complete with the leather mask.

Her heart pounding, she made her mark and pulled the trigger. The gun barely kicked back.

However, the bullet didn't make it. It simply bounced off the chainsaw blade.

"Shit," Anya muttered, her eye on the scope, "Shit."

The other villagers didn't clear off, even though they too were at risk of being cut by their chainsaw-wielding fellowman. Anya pulled the trigger one, two, three times, all the bullets going into the chainsaw man's neck. He was knocked back, but she couldn't see any blood.

The hands. Shoot off the hands!

Anya aimed carefully and fired.

She heard a muffled scream and then saw blood spill from the man's wrist. She aimed and fired again. The chainsaw fell to the ground, forgotten while the man collapsed, his hands absent from his wrists.

Leon continued to fire from his place in the hut, but Anya knew his ammo was going to run out fairly soon. There were still natives out there, but the numbers were considerably less.

Anya heard a grunt down on the ladder. Abandoning her rifle, Anya glanced down the ladder. Three villagers were coming up.

Anya grabbed her Magnum and shot into the first villager's head. He screamed and fell, taking down two more men.

A bell tolled.

The villagers' demeanor changed immediately. They all lowered their weapons and turned in unison toward the small church. The bell still tolling, they walked toward it, in a complete daze.

Leon watched the locals leave, while gripping his gun so tight that his knuckles were actually turning white. He silently crawled through a window and then dashed out into the courtyard, watching as the villagers filed into the church doors one by one. The door closed behind them. Leon scoffed and said to no one in particular, "Where's everyone going? Bingo?"

From atop the watchtower, Anya let out a long, relieved breath. She dismounted her rifle and slung it around her back. After gathering her supplies, she started down the long ladder. Leon was waiting for her when she reached the final step. He said casually, "Well, hello. Wonderful to see you again."

Anya turned to face him. He did look a little worse for wear, with sweaty ash on his face and his hair a mess. He was alive, though, and that's all that mattered. She said, "You were right – there wasn't any other way out."

Leon didn't say anything.

Anya felt that damn guilt build up in her stomach. She was still ashamed for doing that to him, but what choice did she have? Taking in a shaky breath, she said, "I'm sorry, Leon, but I had to pretend that I was abandoning the mission. There were some watchful eyes in the trees."

"You used me as bait?" Leon asked, eyebrows raised.

"I apologize for not telling you, but I didn't have the chance."

"I understand," Leon sighed. "It was a good idea."

"Wish you had thought of it?"

"Yeah," he said, grinning.

"I'm sorry, Kennedy."

Leon stuck out his hand, which she shook wholeheartedly. "Forgiven. Just don't do it again, all right? But if you do, warn me first."

Anya gave a lopsided grin. "Me, leave? Not on your life."

"Ha. Nice choice of words," Leon said solemnly. The two agents walked slowly out into the courtyard. It appeared that all of the villagers had gone inside the one structure. The village was so quiet that it was unsettling.

"Wait," Leon breathed, "Where are the bodies?"

"Oh, that." Anya explained the story of what happened to the woman villager she killed. When she was done, she looked to find Leon's face was expressionless.

"So, they melted?" Leon asked, and for a second, Anya wondered if he even believed her. "They just turned to ash?"

His partner nodded. "Yep. This place just keeps getting weirder and weirder every freaking second."

Human beings melting and turning into ash on the ground; why wasn't he surprised? "No argument here. Should we try getting in?" Leon asked, gesturing for the church.

Anya scoffed. "Rather not. I don't have the energy." She had to look away from Leon, but when she did, she finally saw what the villager's had been roasting in the bonfire. "Holy shit."

Leon didn't bother to look. He knew what she was looking at. "Miguel, I know."

"They…what the hell," Anya whispered, unable to tear her gaze from it. Miguel had been impaled through the chest and was hanging from the fire post. The fire had already done terrible damage to his body, charring his skin and making him almost unrecognizable. His Policia jacket was completely incinerated, his hat melting away into his skull.

"Well, let's check around," Leon replied, making his way to the two-story house. "Maybe Ashley's around here somewhere."

Anya continued after him, muttering, "If they haven't barbecued her yet."

"You say something?" Leon said over his shoulder.

"Yeah. Nice ass," she replied smoothly.

Leon hesitated on his next step, but he continued walking. Anya could see the back of his neck glow red. Smirking, she followed him into the house.

The floor hadn't been swept up in ages, dust billowing from under their shoes with every step. It was a rather small house, Leon going up the rickety stairs, and Anya walking into the kitchen. She swatted a fly away from her face, but it was pretty useless; there were flies everywhere, buzzing around on the kitchen table. Several pots were placed out, but the food inside looked diseased and inedible. Plus, the stench prickled her nose.

Anya sighed, turning around and going up the stairs. On her fourth step, she looked up and saw Leon take a shotgun from a wall mantle. He inspected it and said softly, "Good. It's loaded."

"Found a new toy, have we?" Anya asked, climbing the last step.

"Yep. It'll come in handy. A hell of a lot powerful than my handgun," Leon replied, "I could blow off heads with this."

"I hope so. The bastards can seem to withstand a good beating, possibly even a shotgun blast to the head," Anya replied.

"Only five rounds," Leon sighed, raising his gaze to Anya's. "I wish I had thought to bring shotgun shells."

"I wish I had thought to bring the U.S. Navy," Anya sneered. She turned around and walked to the bed near the north wall. A sharp smell hit her nostrils before she was even near the bed. She looked down and saw several red stains on the sheets. She shook her head in sadness, and in doing so, caught a shimmer of gold out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw a small, open box full of pesetas on top of the cupboard.

"Hm. Money," she muttered, picking up the box and setting it in her side pack. Leon approached, asking, "You're robbing them?"

"They tried to kill me," Anya said with a smile, patting her side pack. "I think we're even."

Leon shrugged. "Let's split up. We'll cover more ground that way."

Anya saluted and went back downstairs. Leon rolled his eyes and continued his search.

Anya went through the house Leon had hid in. After breaking down the door, she entered and did a casual search, finding nothing but nasty porridge in a pot, some bread and water next to it. These people apparently did not eat. This food had obviously been prepared a while ago; the bread was one big hunk of mold, and the water appeared stagnant. Anya could not understand what they were living off of.

A door adjacent to the main room had a rusty padlock on it. After several strong kicks, the door busted open and Anya went inside, her gun ready. Nothing but a blood-stained bed, window, a cabinet, and an armoire.

What had been in this room?

Anya had a lot of questions, but no answers.

She did find another box of pesetas and added that to her collection. She opened up the armoire door in hopes of finding something else useful.

Her eyes scanned the top shelf of the armoire, but when she looked down, she frantically backed away, horrified.

The body of a small boy sat crouched in the armoire's corner. The decaying process had been in effect for some time now, his skin white as a sheet, his face sunken in, and lips peeling back onto his teeth. He had been crouching into a fetal position, and Anya imagined that he had been crying before he died. He had been one of the villager's kids, his clothes brown and plain just like the others.

Anya felt the bile raise at the back of her throat and she puked heavily on the floor.

Whelling had been bad, but this was worse.

Anya left the house quickly. Once outside, she tried to hold back the tears. It was so wrong to kill another human being, but to kill a young child was so horrible and unforgivable.

She wiped her leaking nose on her sleeve and blinked back tears. She looked fairly decent when Leon exited a shack on the northeast side of the village. When he saw her, he gestured for her to come for him. Anya jogged over there and for a second thought that Leon was going to comment on her red eyes, but instead he said, "Look at this." He handed her several papers.

Anya took them and gasped when she realized she was staring at her own picture. It had been taken in D.C., and from the looks of it, it had been during the annual charity drive for the Children's Miracle Network. She had been keeping an eye out on the streets for any suspicious characters because President Graham was making an appearance. Anya could not believe that someone had snapped her picture without her even noticing. Leon had a couple of photos, too. She didn't know where his had been taken at, but it was recent. Anya looked up at him, startled. "This is… unexpected."

"I know."

Anya looked closer at his picture. She saw an important landmark in the background. "They took this picture of you when you were in London."

"I was in London five days ago."

"They act fast, these people," Anya said, angrily.

"There's a memo, but it's in Spanish."

Anya flipped through the photos and grabbed the memo. She read it aloud for Leon: "'Two American agents are investigating the village. Do not let the American agents get in contact with the prisoner. For those of you who do not know, the prisoner is being held in a house beyond the farm. We are going to move the prisoner to another location when we are ready.'"

"Ready for what?" Leon interrupted.

"It doesn't say. 'I do not know how the American government found out about our village. I feel that this intrusion at this time is not just a coincidence. I sense a third party other than the United States government involved here. My fellow men - stay alert! Chief Bitores Mendez.'"

"I thought you said you didn't know Spanish."

"I can read better than I can speak it," Anya replied absently, still absorbed with the pictures. "The son of a bitch. How in the hell did he take my picture?"

Leon shook his head. "They knew about us, Anya. They know why we're here."

"I don't think they were talking about Ashley in this memo," Anya said.

"Really? Why do you think that?" Leon asked, intrigued.

"They kept saying 'the prisoner'. They never said 'she' or 'her'. I think they were trying to cover up the prisoner's gender, incase the document got into the wrong hands."

"It proves one thing."

"What?"

"These villagers are smart enough to read and comprehend. Imagine how dangerous they could be if they were given the opportunity to plot to kill us."

Anya chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Well, we can't give them that opportunity, can we?"

Leon nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. Aside from this delightful memo, I didn't find anything else. You?"

"Some pesetas and jewelry. I figure I got about five thousand in pesetas, and the jewelry will probably fetch a good price."

"I'd congratulate you on your find, but I doubt we're going to be coming across a mall anytime soon."

Anya's eyes narrowed.

"Theoretically speaking, of course," Leon added quickly, seeing the danger in Anya's eyes.

"We should leave before they come back. Where's the door out of this place?"

Leon nodded his head toward a large metal door. "That one, though I don't know what's behind it."

Anya sighed, "Time to reload."