I cut through alleyways, getting closer and closer to the rally point, emerging into what used to be a village square. Fires burned, and bodies were everywhere, shell casings littered the sand; someone had fought a war here. I picked my way through the carnage, stopping when I passed a massive body, almost nine feet tall; a giant ax lay in the dirt not too far from it.

I'd read the Kennedy Report, the Plaga parasites kept their victims mostly intact, making them harder to kill, but the mutations got worse the more of the little fuckers were introduced. I didn't know how many I was looking at, but the body was warped beyond recognition, wearing what looked like a butcher's apron and covered in wicked looking spikes.

I shuddered a little as I moved on, not even wanting to think about what it must be like to be a host to those things. Was the victim aware? Screaming away inside as the parasite turned them into some horrible? I stowed it and kept moving, just one more nightmare for the rolls.

I was a block away from the meet when I first heard them…The Majini.

"Yalla! Imshi!"

C'mon! Go!

I knew that they could speak, but hearing it when I was used to the zombies' soulless moans was something else, adding a whole new layer of horror. These poor people…

I peeked around the corner of a mostly destroyed building; there was a group of them, about ten, heading away from me towards the RV, right towards Chris and his partner. They carried everything from hand axes to AK's; that was a new wrinkle unique to the Plagas.

I liked them better when teeth and the occasional set of claws were all you had to worry about.

I pushed up, hearing the cracks of nine millimeters in the distance that had to be them.

Cover to cover, I moved, keeping an eye on the rooftops; the last thing I needed to do was take a bullet from some sniper. The firing got louder as I turned a corner; the RV was absolutely surrounded. Majini tossing Molotov cocktails and firing on windows and doorways, every so often, I'd see a muzzle flash from inside, punctuated by an exploding head in the crowd.

I stepped back and shoulder checked a door, pushing into what used to be someone's living room; I cleared the first floor before taking the stairs two at a time. The fire was getting more intense as I set up on the top floor, dragging a table over to the window and throwing my med bag down as a rest.

"Bravo, this is Oxide, set across the street, ready to begin servicing targets, hold fire to the Northeast."

Chris's voice came over the radio, sounding strained in between the gunfire, "Bravo copies, holding fire to the Northeast."

I took a deep breath, centering myself as I tracked the reticle on the crowd; the safety came off with a barely audible click.

I settled on a dude firing an AK from behind a car, throwing the lever to increase the magnification a little; his blood-streaked face leaped forward, and I could see the madness burning there. I remembered the Kennedy Report.

Shots to the brain stem seem to be immediately incapacitating and are ideal for severing the connection between Plaga and host.

My finger tightened on the trigger.

SNAP!

His head cratered, splitting open at the bridge of his nose, and he dropped straight to the dirt. Another took his place, a guy wearing a Manchester United jersey, lighting a Molotov cocktail.

SNAP!

The bottle exploded, covering five of them in burning gasoline; I adjusted my aim.

SNAP!

A head that was barely human exploded like a dropped watermelon.

I sped up, picking targets quickly now that I'd shaken the cobwebs off.

I worked the crowd and changed magazines, bodies littered the street, and they were starting to get the idea that someone was killing them, firing wildly at rooftops and alleyways. I kept cool and dropped them left and right. Chris and his partner were firing nonstop now that the heat was off.

Someone hurled a frag in a high arc from inside the garage, the grenade landing in the middle of the group. I ducked and turned away from the window as it detonated in a cloud of smoke and red dust, showering the side of my hide with shrapnel.

I snapped my rifle up, scanning for targets…

Nothing moved.

Chris poked his head out of a side door, waving up at me.

I raised a hand and broke down the hasty hide, jogging down the stairs to meet them—the smell of blood and spilled organs mixed with the sickly sweet odor of dead Plagas. Chris was leaning on the building, a pilfered AK hung loosely in his grip.

"Hey, Redfield, how's business?"

He chuckled, shaking his head, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

His face slowly lost all humor, "Alpha's dead, the whole team, wiped out by some kind of fucking BOW that we've never seen, looked like a collection of leeches. Sheva and I burned it alive; our bullets weren't doing shit."

"Fuck me, I'm sorry about your boys, Chris. Do we have a plan?"

" Yeah, I am too; they were good men…We found some intel on Dechant; I fired it off to the West African Branch HQ. They're gonna decrypt it and get back to us. For the time being, we need to regroup with Delta."

A smooth African accented voice called out from inside the garage, "The Humvee is trashed; we'll have to move on foot."

"Shit, forgot to make the introductions, what with all the…" He waved his hand at the carnage, "Sheva?"

A woman jogged out dressed in a short-sleeved combat shirt covered by a plate-carrier, wearing BSAA issued Crye pants. Her caramel-colored skin and dark eyes were gorgeously accented by her long brown hair.

This woman was a knockout.

She smiled as she got close.

"You must be Kelly; Chris said we were going to have a friend close by," She stuck her hand out, "Sheva Alomar, thanks for the assist."

I shook it, "Pleasure's all mine, Alomar, what say we go catch this prick, huh?"

She beamed, "That's a plan."

I liked her already.

I nudged Chris, noticing him watching her a little too intently.

Oh boy.

"Ready to move, Redfield?"

He nodded, "Let's go, two klicks to the train station."

Sheva dipped and snagged an AK off the ground, checking to make sure a round was chambered, nodding when she met Chris's gaze. They walked towards the back door, and I keyed up my radio, falling in behind them.

"Oxide to Sparrow, I pass Checkpoint Rocky, moving with BSAA Bravo Team to pursue HVT, how copy?"

"Sparrow copies Checkpoint Rocky, ISR is on station over HVT's last-known, time now."

"Understood Sparrow, push drone feed to my ATAK. Moving to secure HVT, will advise."

I flipped down my chest-mounted cell phone, punching a few icons until it lit up with the Predator's feed, circling high over the train station. A flurry of activity greeted me, trucks coming and going; any one of them could be carrying Irving. We needed to move.

Sheva and Chris stacked on the door and moved through it; Alomar moved like she knew what she was doing, covering Chris's blind spots expertly as we moved through a forest of shipping containers.

"I've got ISR overflying the train yard, lot of activity."

"Copy, step it up."

I lapped them, slicing the next corner and coming face-to-face with an old friend.

The painted dog thing growled.

I growled back.

It lunged, and I fired five rounds, sending it crashing back into a heap with a very canine yelp of pain. Raised voices told me that the Majini nearby had heard our little exchange.

I motioned Chris and Sheva forward, signaling that we had contact.

"I fucking hate it here," I muttered, bringing my rifle back up and cutting the next corner.

We dropped them like a well-oiled machine, they came at us with reckless anger, and we repaid it in kind. The firefight was mercifully brief; the Majini possessed some level of combat aptitude, but against us? Operators with almost a decade of experience fighting things just like them? They ran into our irons and broke like waves on the rocks.

I wiped some blood off my face after a close encounter and cut the last corner. The only bridge over the river that wasn't a smoking ruin greeted us. I changed mags, stowing the mostly empty one in my dump pouch, and sighted across the span.

Is that a fucking?…

The semi's horn split the air; the driver was grabbing holes as he powered toward us. Chris and Sheva ran up and got on-line with me, pouring rounds into the windshield, blood sprayed the cab, and the air-brakes caught again and again as we shredded the driver. A hundred feet away, the truck fishtailed wildly, went up on the Jersey barriers, and crashed onto its side.

"Fucking hell," Sheva whispered.

"Right?" Chris affirmed.

I was about to answer when a round caught my helmet, the glancing blow spinning me to the hard-pack.

"Fuck!"

"Mike! You okay?"

I flashed Chris a thumbs-up trying to see where the shot came from; a second later, I got my answer.

A crowd of Majini followed behind the wreck, screaming and firing crossbows, and AK's, a couple lagged behind, throwing cocktails. I regained my feet and gunned one to the ground, going to work on the others as Chris and Sheva added their own fire to the fray.

"This is Hawkeye, under attack by Airborne BOW's!"

I watched the MH-60 DAP bob and weave as the bat-like monsters swarmed it, some getting minced by the rotor blades before one got sucked into the intake and the bird pitched wildly. I could see the pilot fighting with the controls as the helo disappeared below the buildings.

"Mayday, Mayday! Hawkeye is going down hard at grid three six-"

The fireball that rose up over the rooftops left no doubt in my mind that everyone on that bird had died on impact. I'd seen enough helicopter crashes…

Fuck.

I returned my attention to the crowd of Majini, killing them as fast as they appeared.

"All units, Hawkeye is down, any available units proceed to crash site."

"Bravo Team is en route!" Chris called back.

"Sheva! Check right, close it up!" I called out as a group tried to flank us down an alley.

"On it!" She turned and hosed them down as I primed a frag and pitched it into the fray.

"Frag out!"

A low boom rattled the teeth in my head, but nothing moved in the alley.

"Chris, Moving!" I shouted.

"Covering!" He called back.

I peeled out of cover, gunning down two assholes with machetes and sliding behind a stack of crates, "Set!"

"Moving!" Sheva called out, Chris and I covered. We moved like that, bounding until we reached the alley adjacent to the crash site.

"How do you want to handle this?"

Chris gave me a look.

"What? It's your show, man; I'm just along for the ride. You call the plays."

He smiled, "Alright then, I'd feel better with you up high on overwatch, Sheva, and I can handle ground-level."

"I'm on it, brother. I'll let you know when I'm set."

I broke out a window and vaulted into a building, looked like it could've been a bar in another life; broken glass and spent shell casings littered the floor, dried blood here and there spoke to some kind of fight as I climbed the stairs, setting up a room deep and getting eyes on the still-burning wreck.

I keyed up my mic, "Overwatch is set, eyes on the crash-site, no movement.

"Understood, ground team is moving now."

I took a breath, watching the perimeter for any signs of anything unusual. Chris and Sheva broke from cover and moved to the bird, covering each other as they went. Chris came over the radio a moment later.

"High ground, the crew is gone, consolidate on me."

"Check, moving."

I went to break down and join them when the roaring of motorcycle engines reached my ears. I got back in the scope, "Ground team, you hear that? We have incoming."

I watched them fan out, getting behind cover just in time for three guys on dirt-bikes to come roaring over the chain-link fence, hitting the ground and racing towards them.

"High ground…Going hot."

I centered my reticle on the chest of the lead rider and squeezed the trigger.

SNAP!

The impact didn't kill him, but he lost control of his bike, the front tire wobbling wildly before he dumped it rolling along the ground in a cat ball. I heard his bones snapping from fifty yards off. I tracked the rifle onto the next one, about to fire when someone beat me to it.

CRACK!

CRACK!

Both riders went down in a spray of blood, their bikes flipping end spinning end over end to crash into the wrecked helo and the far wall, respectively.

I moved to track where the shots came from and spied snipers on the far roof; simultaneously, a ground element was making their way towards Chris and Sheva.

"This is Delta Team; hold fire, friendlies are coming to you."

I keyed up, "Appreciate the assist Delta."

"All day, Bravo."

"Chris?"

"C'mon down, Mike. We're good."

"Check, moving."

I hustled down the stairs to meet the newcomers, crossing the alley and sliding down the short embankment. I jogged up, keeping an eye out for threats.

"Afternoon, boys."

One guy, who was clearly the leader of the little outfit, was talking to Sheva with a smile on his face; he turned and offered his hand as I walked up, "Captain Josh Stone, I've heard of you, Mr. Kelly."

I shook it, "Good things, I hope. A pleasure, Captain."

He chuckled, "Depends on who was doing the talking, my friend," He turned back to Chris. "We should get out of the open, discuss some intel my team found."

Chris nodded, "Lead the way, Captain."

A quick walk found us under cover in a warehouse; Stone was lining out the situation; I sat in the corner, loading some fresh magazines and having a quick smoke before we got moving. I hadn't had time to breathe since I arrived. Now that I had a quiet moment, my thoughts turned to Wesker; he was out here somewhere; he'd turned another city into a nightmare, consigning the innocent people here to a fate worse than death.

He'd killed Jill…

I dug under my armor and ran my fingers over her necklace, feeling my eyes burn a little.

God, I missed her.

Becca flashed across my mind; the little genius was well on her way to capturing my heart; I could feel myself falling in love with her a little bit more every day. I'd never forget Jill; if I was honest with myself, I'd never stop loving her, but I cared about Becca more than I ever thought possible. She'd pulled me out of a hole and made life worth it again.

Someone laid a hand on my shoulder, "Kelly?"

I looked up. Chris was staring down at me with an unreadable expression; I realized my eyes were a little wet and wiped at them with my gloved hands, "Yeah, Chris? What's up, brother?"

"You okay?" He whispered.

I nodded, "Yeah, just handling it, being here, Wesker being here… Not the time or the place. What's going on?"

He sighed, squeezing my shoulder, "Irving fell back towards the mines, Josh is gathering up the intel Delta picked up, and then we're gonna have to go after him."

I nodded, sniffling a bit, cursing myself for getting so deep in my head on a fucking op.

"Sounds good."

Stone walked up as I pulled myself together, holding out a flash drive, "This is everything we've been able to pull so far. I hope it helps. Delta is going to secure this area so you three will have a clear lane for evac once you snag Irving."

Chris took the drive, "Thanks Stone, we'll be in touch," He motioned to Sheva, "C'mon guys, time is money."

I pushed myself to my feet and stubbed out my smoke, falling in behind Chris and giving Stone and his guys a small wave goodbye.

Chris fiddled with a hardened PDA, plugging in the flash drive.

"So you've worked with Chris for a long time, I take it?"

Sheva had slowed up, walking beside me.

"Yeah, I have, all the way back to Raccoon City and STARS."

"What happened to your team is required reading at the BSAA Academy; it's almost become a legend."

I smiled, "We just fell ass-backward into the worst situation imaginable and somehow managed to come out on top, a lot of us didn't…I'm not a hero Alomar, I just hang out with them," I gestured to Chris, who was currently staring at his PDA like it held the secrets of the universe.

She smiled, staring at the back of Chris's head with something in her eyes, "Well, in any case, it's an honor to work with the both of you."

I couldn't help but chuckle; Chris had no idea what he was in for once this was over, "Likewise, Sheva."

"Kelly…"

Chris's voice was low, almost horrified.

My bells were ringing; I'd never heard him sound like that, "Chris? You okay?"

His shoulders began to shake, followed by the rest of him, he was coming apart in front of me, and it frightened me to my core. I took two long strides and grabbed his arm.

"Redfield, talk to me, man." I followed his gaze down to the screen and what I saw…

Jill's face stared up at me; she looked different; her pale skin had become ghostly white, the dark brown hair I loved had turned an icy blonde. She was suspended in some sort of tank, an oxygen mask on her face, and IV's running into both arms, the EKG on the right side of the pod showed a steady heart rate.

The photo was dated a week prior.

My rifle slipped out of my hands, clattering to the floor, the world starting to tilt as my legs gave way underneath me. Chris sank down next to me, dropping the PDA and wrapping his arms around me, I began to shake violently, and he held me tighter. I reached up and unsnapped my helmet, letting it fall to the floor with a hollow thunk. I could feel my stomach starting to rebel; I leaned over and threw up into the dirt, my heart pounding in my ears…

She's alive.

Oh my God.

She's been alive all this time.

I retched again, nothing came up; I dry-heaved, pushing Chris away and bracing my hands in the dirt as tears joined the bile.

She's been alive, and he's had her.

This.

Entire.

Time.

Oh my GOD

Chris grabbed my shoulder, "M-Mike," His own tears were evident in his strained voice, "We can't lose it now, brother. We have to find her; we have to get her back."

Oh god…Becca…I didn't…

Oh Christ.

I was coming apart, the world was crashing down around me, but somewhere under all of that pain and fear, all the uncertainty and shame.

Relief.

Joy.

Love.

She's alive.

"Someone want to fill me in?" Sheva asked, watching us with wide eyes.

I pushed myself off the ground, looking over at Chris, who was currently rubbing his eyes, trying to shake off the shock, so I took the lead. I picked up the PDA and showed her Jill's picture, another wave of nausea blowing through me.

"That's my…" My voice cracked horribly, "my fiancé, or she was, she was killed three years ago, or so we…fuck…" Fresh tears stung my eyes, "Or so we thought. She's alive, and this just went from an HVT snatch to a fucking rescue mission."

Her face shifted from confused to horrified to almost resolute, "We still have to get Irving in the bag; he's responsible for all of this."

I stuffed the PDA in a pocket with shaking hands, trying to wrap my mind around what had just happened. Shock roared at me, there's only so much a guy can take, and I'd about met my fucking quota… but I had a job to do.

Alright, Kelly, breathe.

What do we know?

Jill is alive, held captive by Wesker somewhere in this hell-hole.

Irving is the fastest way to get that intel.

Irving is the key.

We find him, we find Jill and Wesker.

All else is secondary.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. I'd have plenty of time to freak out once I got clear of this.

By the time I opened my eyes, I knew what had to be done. I walked over and picked up my rifle and my helmet, slinging the weapon and snapping my chinstrap. I looked over at Chris; his tear-filled eyes said everything I couldn't.

We left her behind.

I buried it; the only way through this was through this.

"Irving is in the mining complex?"

Chris nodded.

"Sheva, this just got real fucking personal; if you want out, then now's the time."

She shook her head, "No, I'm in, all the way. We take down Irving and find your friend."

I smiled despite everything, "Spoken like a hard motherfucker. Call the shot, Chris."

He rolled his shoulders, the tension evident on his face, "We get to the mines, grab Irving, and squeeze that little bastard until he gives up Jill and Wesker's location. Let's move."

We broke into a jog, heading uphill.

I'm on my way Jill.

"It's dark as shit in here."

"I know, Kelly."

"Nobody thought to bring NOD's?"

"Who the fuck knew this was going to happen?"

"Proper prior planning Redfield."

"Shut up."

"For the record, I don't mind carrying the lantern."

"Duly noted Sheva, entirely unhelpful for my argument, but noted."

A chuckle echoed in the dark, "Thanks, Kelly."

We cleared through the mines, almost getting swarmed by Majini; the fuckers were everywhere, every one I took down made me feel a bit better, but not by much.

I had no earthly idea what I'd say to Jill when I saw her again.

She was the love of my life.

What did that make Becca? A coping mechanism?

My head swam with all the implications of Jill being alive; the joy my heart kept trying to feel was interrupted by visions of Becca. But to worry about that, I'd have to live through this shit.

"Kelly! On your left!"

I snapped my rifle around and shot the shitbag who was rushing me, swinging an ax like he was going for a home run. The heavy seventy-grain rounds knocked him back; I lined up and shot him in the face, his head exploding in a shower of gore, a centipede-like creature rising out of his torso.

"The fuck is that now!?"

I laid on the trigger, dumping rounds into the whipping creature, dancing out of the reach of its wicked-looking blade. It rushed forward, and Sheva leveled it with the kind of kick to the chest that only gets described in the police report before backing off and shooting in a few more times, the monster finally falling still.

"Fuck me," I whispered, rotating magazines, "You're my fucking hero Sheva."

She smiled sweetly, "Hey, thanks, Kelly."

"C'mon, you two," Chris groused, wiping blood and other things off his face.

I chuckled as I followed them, a forced thing that belied the turmoil raging inside me.

Up and up we climbed, taking down more Majini; the bastards were persistent. Soon but not soon enough, we emerged from the mine into the fading sunlight; a company office, more like two shipping containers stacked on each other, was just downhill from the exit. We moved up, covering all the angles, and finding nothing.

The quiet after the chaos was always unnerving.

I fell in behind Chris as we worked our way up the stairs to the office; I could hear someone moving inside, and tapped Chris on the shoulder as we stacked up.

"Banger?" I whispered.

He nodded and reached for the handle; I looked over my shoulder and mimed a flashing to Sheva so she'd have time to prepare herself, a nod from her, and I slipped the pin out, holding the spoon tightly as Chris popped the door. I smacked the banger on his plate carrier to knock the spoon loose and hurled it into the room, the thunderclap coming a moment later.

I cut left, Redfield took the short wall, and Sheva went center; on my journey, I spotted a thoroughly fucked up looking Irving, his eyes shut tight, stumbling around from the overpressure in such a confined space.

"Cover!" I shouted, slinging my rifle and punching him in the teeth, bearing him to the diamond plate and pulling some flex cuffs from my kit.

"Got you fucker!"

The window opposite Chris shattered, and three things happened very quickly; the only reason I caught any of it was because of my enhanced reflexes.

A flashbang flew into the room, followed by a CS grenade.

Both detonated in rapid succession, filling the room with smoke and tear gas.

Finally, a figure leaped through the open window, cloaked and masked up, grabbing Irving right out of my hands as I choked on the gas, nimbly evading my wild grab and dancing back out the window with our target in tow.

The three of us staggered out the door, spitting and crying, lucky it wasn't a fucking nerve agent.

Chris spoke first, "What the fuck was that? Are you fucking kidding me?"

I coughed and spit into the dirt, "Par for the fucking course, Sheva, you good?"

She gave me a weak thumbs-up, "Been a long time since I've been gassed… Fond memories."

I chuckled, pulling some water from my Camelbak, "I say we get back in there once the gas clears and SSE the shit outta that place; there's gotta be a reason that mincing little fuck was here."

"Agreed," Chris answered.

We gave it five minutes, but my eyes still burned when we entered. I started tearing through my side of the room, checking papers, anything that could point us to where Irving might've run off to.

"Got something," Sheva called out, passing a folder to Chris as I walked over.

"Huh, looks like there's an oilfield that doubles as Irving's little hideout," He keyed up on his radio, "Stone, we found Irving, but he rabbited, looks like his temporary outpost in the oilfield to the South."

"Copy, I'll send some of my guys to bag him; you guys need to get back here ASAP, routing transport to your grid."

"Understood, standing by."

I shot Chris a look, "Think they're up for it?"

He nodded, "Helped train most of these guys myself Kelly, they've got it, don't worry, brother."

"Got a point, Redfield, let's get the fuck outta here."

We jogged down the steps; I opened my mouth to ask Chris what we were gonna do about Irving before he disappeared into a black-site when a round snapped off the wall between us; I vaulted over it, Chris on my heels, and slammed into cover, peeking out to see Majini on the hillside taking potshots at us.

Chris grabbed for his radio as Sheva, and I returned fire, "Delta, Troops in Contact!"

"Copy that, expediting."

I dropped a guy with an AK, his buddies rushed in to fill the gap, arrows bounced uselessly off of our cover, and rounds snapped overhead, "Chris! We gotta move!"

"Peel left!"

Sheva fired her magazine and ran by me, tapping me on the shoulder; I repeated the process with Chris, establishing a new firing line. Keeping them suppressed.

Over the ever-increasing volume of fire, a new sound entered the fray. The roar of a big Russian-built diesel, followed by a modified Ural bouncing down the grade, just up-slope from us.

"Vehicle! Smoke him!" I yelled over the din, tracking my rifle onto the driver and hammering rounds through the windshield, the driver jerking, blood spraying the cab. The truck kept coming, carried by momentum, down the hill. It bounced off a boulder and slammed into the cliff face, finally coming to a stop less than fifty yards from our cover.

I got a good look at it between returning fire and changing magazines; the back looked like a bank vault on wheels, thickly armored and majorly imposing.

Oh, what fresh hell is this?

The incoming fire suddenly ceased, not a taper, not slacking off, but disappearing entirely.

Chris poked his head up, "Looks clear; I think they fell back."

Sheva was eyeing the truck, "The truck is blocking our way; we're going to have to climb." She pointed at a ladder a few yards to my left.

"No time like the present, what's the call, Chris?"

He opened his mouth to say something when the hiss of hydraulics from the truck drew all of our attention. The back slid open at a languid pace, almost peaceful, but when it opened fully, the peace was shattered by an animal roar that set my teeth on edge and sent me scrambling for a fresh magazine.

The thing that erupted out of the back of that truck was a million nightmares made manifest, a fusion of a Hog-Nosed Bat and some kind of insect, massive tusks protruding upwards from it's ruined jaw, and a long thorax with way too many legs trailing behind it as it flew into the sky, only to spot us seconds later and come crashing back to earth.

I didn't think; I just moved, ripping a frag from my vest, the pin and spoon flying away in unison as I pitched the uncooked grenade at the monstrosity.

"FRAG OUT!"

The grenade detonated impotently against whatever kind of natural armor the thing had, and it surged forward, drool spattering the ground as it came for us.

Chris snapped his AK to his shoulder and fired on full auto, Sheva and I joining him a split-second later, the monster just kept coming.

"Fall Back!" Chris yelled.

I stepped forward, covering them, firing into the things face as it got ever closer; I waited until it was right on me before I bailed, running for all I was worth; Sheva dumped a mag past me as I hauled ass, the thing screamed behind me, spurring me on.

"Last man!" I yelled as I blew past her.

"Moving!" She called back.

"Covering!" Chris shouted.

I glanced over my shoulder; the wide-open jaws of the bat were gaining on Sheva with each step; time slowed as the thing's teeth snapped the air, close enough to slice her pack off her shoulders. I spun, changing direction on a dime and pushing off, running for Sheva at an inhuman speed; the bat closed in, sensing that it was close to a meal.

I hit her low, tackling her to the ground as the BOW blew past, jaws closing around empty air. On my way to the ground, I noticed the underside of it's "tail" was a bright, vulnerable-looking pink.

"Chris! Focus fire on its ass! It's vulnerable there!" My voice sounded distorted, and odds were good that I was speaking like a crackhead on a three-day bender, but realization dawned in his eyes as I threw Sheva to her feet, "Go!"

She stumbled and ran as I rolled to my feet; Chris must have hit something vital, because one moment it charged, the next the thing reeled to the side and collapsed. Sheva leaped and rolled between the twitching forest of legs and teeth; I wasn't that elegant. I powered my way after her, slowing only to fire into its underbelly, the thing moved like it was underwater, but I knew I didn't bring enough ammo to drop this fucking monster.

It righted itself with a screech, soaking up Chris's sustained fire, and as quickly as it had arrived, it leaped into the sky and disappeared into the distance, its four wings grabbing as much air as they could.

My heart rate started to slow, time returning to normal as my reflexes came back down to somewhere near normal.

"C'mon back BITCH! I wanted to be friends!"

Chris's head turned to look at Sheva, and if I listened closely, I could hear the screech of rusty metal.

My mouth was hanging open at the sheer anger in her statement before a fit of laughter seized me, loud and long despite the fact that we were in the middle of an active fight, Jill, Becca, Wesker, and everything else.

"Jesus Christ, that's fucking amazing." I chuckled, pulling it together and flashing Alomar a thumbs-up.

Sheva chuckled, the adrenaline rush wearing off, "What? I did."

Chris was still staring.

Easy, turbo.

The roar of a big vehicle up the cliff caught our attention, two Humvees rolled to a stop at the edge.

"Need a ride?" The drive of the lead vehicle called out.

"Fuckin' A," I yelled back, looking at Chris and Sheva, "C'mon, fuck this place."

"Right?" Sheva muttered as we jogged over and started our climb, covering each other in turn. I finally crested the cliffside and jogged over to the rig.

I hopped into the back of the Humvee, getting comfortable and lighting a smoke; we had a ways to go overland before we reached Delta. Sheva jumped into the gunner's hatch, racking the bolt on the fifty twice, chambering a round; Chris slid in across from me, eyeing her a little.

I thumped the roof, and we rolled out. I kept my eyes on my sector, gazing across the savanna at the setting sun. I felt Chris staring at me, so I answered his implicit question without taking my gaze off the scenery.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Chris."

"I wish I could tell you what to do, Mike. It's killing me knowing you're going through this, and there's nothing I can do to help."

"I guess we find Jill, and whatever happens after, happens. I still love her man; I never stopped, and I never will, but Becca has a piece of me too, a bigger piece than I thought I had left. I'm keeping a lid on it because I have to, but fuck man."

He reached over and squeezed my shoulder, "I know you'll make the right call Mike, you're a good man."

"Then why do I feel like such a piece of shit?"

"There's no way you could've known; what happened here was so far out there it had a built-in alibi."

I nodded, "I appreciate it, brother; I'll get around this…somehow."

"I know you will. Whatever happens, I'm here for ya."

"Thanks, Chris."

"Contact rear! Closing fast!" Sheva called out.

I looked up and saw dust clouds coming up on our six, out of the clouds came dirt-bikes and Technicals, about two miles back and closing. I checked my magazine and grabbed a few fresh ones out of the emergency resupply on the bed of the Hummer.

Never a dull moment.

A/N: You know the drill. Read and review.