III. Here Comes Trouble and Some Guys Get All the Girls

"Any fool can be happy. It takes a man with real heart to make beauty out of the stuff that makes us weep."
― Clive Barker, Days of Magic, Nights of War

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The roaring chased them down the tunnel and out the other side. They ran for it, frightened but dedicated to escape. They leaped down into another wet tunnel.

And then?

Well, and then came the world's ugliest, fattest, most enormous crocodile.

It was massive. The size of a school bus. It was the size of a semi. It was screaming and had three thousand bazillion teeth. It was warty, lumpy, bumpy, and running right at them.

"CHRIST IN A MINI SKIRT!" Yelled Leon, "FUCKING RUN!"

Claire was already running. They separated, Claire, running down one tunnel. Leon went left. And the thing? It chased him. Naturally. Because he wanted girls to chase him but no. Sewer gators, though? Naturally.

He was catnip for monsters.

You wanted to be a hero; his mind chastised; here ya go! You're now a hero in a bad science fiction novel. Congratulations! Is it everything you hoped for?

The tunnel shook and spilled debris down on him as she ran. The gator? It took a nasty swipe at his head. He lost some hair as he rolled, scrambled, and nearly fell to his death to be crushed beneath its rampaging mass.

He ran right by the first canister of crap in the alcove on the wall before figuring out what it said. WARNING! Highly flammable. It was gas. Or something. Why was it there? What was its purpose of it?

Leon turned back and grabbed the canister. He unscrewed the top where it was hooked to the wall. The sewer gator was less than ten feet away. Letting out a terrified, high-pitched squeak sound, Leon threw the canister to the floor beside him and fled.

He was very aware that someone was muttering ohshitohshitohshitohshit under their breath as they ran. Yeah, it was him. He was a chicken. No lie. But he was still alive. So forget bravery, he mused, run for your life.

The crocodile…alligator? Who the hell could tell the difference!? It chased him, roaring from that enormous mouth. Leon spun back at the end of the long tunnel where he had no choice now. Stand or die.

Probably both.

The beast scooped up the canister in its wide-open jaws. Why the fuck not? He mused. And fired at it. Not the gator. Nope. He fired at the can in its mouth.

Ping. Ping. Pi-

The whoosh of fire and whomp of explosion stamped him down to the ground like a slinky. He plopped to his belly and felt the fire lick hungry and hot where he'd been standing. The force of the blast shoved him into the wall and left him there to wait for the concussion of it to pass.

He glanced up, feeling the roasting roll of a burning body. And the gator was still there. Yep… kind of. It had no face, so that was a plus, as its head exploded like a grenade of crap, blood, and stench. The smell of roasting rotten gator filled the air around him.

He felt it, horrified by it, and it didn't matter. He rolled to the side and threw up all over the ground.

Awesome, he thought as he ralphed, nothing barfing from pain, fear, and disgust: real American hero here, ladies and gentlemen. Feast your eyes on what happens when ordinary people face monsters.

Claire came running down the hallway as Leon stuffed a stick of gum in his mouth and started chewing. It was better than nothing.

She froze, looking at the putrid mess.

"Ugh! Whafuck!?"

"Yeah," Leon sounded hoarse and tired, "Yeah! Whafuck indeed."

Claire helped him up. She brushed some of the rot and stench off his face. He laughed a little, shrugging.

"How's the hot factor now?"

She studied him. "You just killed a giant mutant gator. The hot factor is pretty high."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah…give me some gum too."

"Alright." He offered her another stick of gum. She popped it in her mouth.

"I'm gonna kiss you now."

"Over the romantic fire, we're experiencing together?"

They looked at the burning gator and its exploded head. It wasn't a bonfire. It wasn't candles over a romantic table in Venice. But sometimes, you took what you could get.

"Yep."

"Cool." He laughed, and she grabbed his vest to pull him down.

It was a good kiss. Smooth and kinda sexy. As sexy as a kiss could get in a dirty old sewer across from a roasting dead monster. He grabbed a handful of that pert little ass of hers for good measure, and she laughed, stepping back.

"Did you just grope me?"

"…no?"

"I liked it." She moved back toward the other tunnel, "Come on, hero cop. Let's find Sherry."

This girl, Leon speculated with a smirk, grabbing him and kissing him all over Raccoon City. In his twenty years, he had never had a woman always grabbing him and laughing and kissing him. Zombies and killer crocs aside, he was enjoying the shit out of her company, which made no sense given their current situation.

They moved quickly through the other tunnel. There was a door to one side that opened to a steel staircase. Leon, holding his pistol, went first up the steps. Claire covered their rear.

Although he would have liked to have covered her rear, that had no chance of happening in a dirty sewer in the middle of a dirty wasteland….or maybe it did. She was a feisty thing. She'd probably let him grope her again if he wanted.

He shifted, focusing his attention on their actions and not on the feeling of thrusting himself between her toned thighs. He was betting she was a screamer. Jesus. That was it. He was hard. Stupid man, his brain admonished him; what good does this do ANYONE? So now you're ready to ride, and what? Are you gonna throw her down on the floor next to a flaming crocodile and stuff her full of your police-issue pistol?

He was simultaneously turned on and amused with himself. She wouldn't let him do that. He was ALMOST sure of that. She wasn't that kind of gi—

She brushed her hand over his ass as he started to open the door at the top of the stairs. He blinked. Accidental? He rolled his head over his shoulder.

Her face said: Nope. Not accidental.

This girl. He'd never met anyone like her.

He figured…what the fuck. And turned back to her.

Claire blinked. There was never a more inappropriate time for that look on his face. But what the hell, right? They could be dead in the next ten minutes.

He pushed her against the wall, and she grabbed his face. There were a lot of tongues and a ton of groping now, she thought wildly. He got his hands into the top of her little shorts and rewarded himself with handfuls of that perfect little butt of hers. She couldn't get anywhere on him that wasn't tucked or locked down or strapped. Fucking uniform, she thought desperately, what a piece of shit.

She settled for rubbing at him over his clothes.

So there they were, in a dirty stairwell, probably fixing to be dead soon. And they were sucking a lot of face and grabbing each other's asses like horny teenagers. Which they kinda were. So it was probably ok.

He was a good kisser, Claire thought objectively, lots of tongue and teeth. It was just the right amount of suck and fuck with that tongue too. Hot cop was a helluva kisser.

Leon drew back from her, laughing and kinda desperate. "Holy shit."

"Right? Timing could NOT be worse here." She rubbed her swollen mouth. "I'm moving you from KINDA hot to just hot, by the way."

"A compliment of the highest water, for sure. Holy moly. You kiss your brother with that mouth?"

"Not like that, handsome."

"Sheesh. How am I supposed to focus on killing zombies now?"

"Oh. I have the answer for that, actually."

"Yeah?"

"You gotta refocus your brain."

"Yeah? How?"

"Like this." And then? She grabbed the zipper on his pants and jerked it down. Surely she was not serious here. But she totally was. Clearly, and, well, then that little red-haired siren stuck her hand down into his pants and wrapped her fingers around him.

She pushed him against the stairwell wall and didn't just kill him. She killed him and made him love it. She jerked at his body, and he was pretty sure his brain fell out of his ass. He grabbed her arms and dropped his gun in the process. But that was ok. She had his gun in her fist and was pumping it like a pro. So he was just fine.

She milked him fast and hard. He thought, holy shit, this might be the best and worst night of his entire life, and she tugged just the right way. That was it. He was done. He grunted, she kept him against the wall with a hand on his collarbone and the other in his pants, and he went in her little hand. He blew his load all over that pumping fist like he was fifteen, and his parents might walk in at any minute to catch him.

Claire chuckled and let him go. She wiped her sticky hand on his uniform and zipped him up. And then she kissed him. Totally wet, totally wild, it was almost as good as the shivers of orgasm that were still shooting down his poor body. This girl. This GIRL. She was the most fantastic chic he'd ever met.

"Better?"

And he started laughing. He laughed until he was weak from it. She grinned and hugged him. What a day this was, he thought. Zombies and mutant dogs and killer crocs. Viruses and explosions and flopping hungry poops. And, of course, hot girls with missing brothers putting their hands in his pants. He could imagine the older man's face when he regaled him with stories of his day on the RPD.

Gathering his shit together, Leon followed her out of the stairwell door.

Sherry was waiting for them there. Terrified, the little girl was already racing away toward the far side of the platform on which they found themselves. It was a big platform with what looked like some train car? Or something on it.

The cool night breeze was better here. It took away the stench of the sewer they'd left behind. Leon and Claire were just standing there and enjoying the freedom from the stench of rot and decay. Sherry was digging around in the little hanger across from them.

Claire moved toward her slowly, "Sherry? Wait. Wait. Don't run. Tell me how to help you."

"He's coming!" Cried the little girl as she dug through boxes on the ground, "We need the key to the lift. We have to get this thing moving, Claire. I put the key over here somewhere. Help me look!"

Leon and Claire spread out the help her look. There was plenty to see in the little hanger on their platform. There were tools hung on walls, and the floor was littered with boxes filled with Umbrella paraphernalia. Hats, mugs, and coasters were stuffed three deep in the cardboard shells and poked under tables covered in papers and folders.

Leon picked up one folder to scan the contents. It was a list of experiments that had been going on. Its detailed description of subject A-004 V. Grimes. V. Grimes was injected with the virus at approximately 0600 in the morning. He mutated less than three hours later and showed significant signs of aggression less than fourteen minutes after mutation. During the initial canonical phase of the transformation, the virus exhibited an increased capacity for function in the physical manifestation. Meaning, of course, that one was stronger, faster, and more capable. The initial testing phases showed that the G-variant was superior to the T-virus in terms of complete and total transformation in the host.

Leon said quietly, "What the fuck were they testing here?"

Claire glanced up, "Eh?"

He turned to Sherry, "What did your parents do here, Sherry?"

"They were scientists. They worked in the lab. They were making…monsters."

Claire glanced at Leon's face. He folded the report in his hands and tucked it into his vest for safe keeping. And then he added, "You find anything, anything at all that can put a nail in the coffin of what is happening in this town…keep it. We'll get it to the right people when we get the hell out of here."

Claire nodded, and they went back to searching for the key to the lift.

Claire was elbow deep in a box of crap when they heard it. The roaring. They heard it, and they turned too slow. Something that had once, possibly, been a man exploded out of the tunnel where they'd been. It had blonde hair on a head tilted to the side and adjacent to the most enormous eyeball ever witnessed in the known world. The eye was as wide as a ruler and blinking and gross in the chest and shoulder of the thing advancing on them, carrying a HUGE piece of pipe squealing with a metallic sound as it dragged it over the platform. Muscle and bone showed wetly through the ragged, torn flesh, and the messy rags of clothing barely covered anything in its most horrifying form. It was ten feet tall if it was an inch, and it had arms thick and roped with muscle that looked vaguely like they could crush and man while he screamed.

Sherry screamed and ran to hide. And the thing lifted its head and roared her name.

Leon pulled the Magnum and aimed at the eyeball. The heavy round was loud and raucous in the quiet hanger. It echoed and hurt the ears. The eyeball rolled, streaming steaming blood up in a geyser as it struck.

The monster roared its anger and rushed him. Leon ran for it, circling out of the hanger and around behind the lift car they were trying desperately to get into. He grabbed the handle and found it open after all.

So he ran inside.

In hindsight, sequestering himself inside a large metal coffin to await his death was probably bad. But it made a strange sort of sense at the time. After all, the monster couldn't get in, so he was kind of safe.

He could hear Claire firing on the thing. Leon started digging around in the car, looking for the key. It was there, lying on the control panel near the front. He snatched it up and leaped out of the vehicle.

And the thing smashed one giant arm right into his chest.

As a child, Leon Kennedy had been kicked once a horse. It had reared up and bucked him. Boom. It had shattered his collarbone and sent him flying. It had hurt like nothing he'd ever known. This? This was ten times worse.

He collapsed around the pain as he was thrown up and out. He hit the edge of the platform and just kept going. He went right off the side and plummeted down into the naked darkness.

Claire screamed, running toward where he'd fallen. The thing threw the pipe at her. She ducked, felt the world shift and roll inches above her head, and the pipe struck the hanger's wall with a shrieking steel squeal. Claire reloaded her weapon, tracking the monster.

"You ugly fuck! I'm going to enjoy watching you bleed to death!"

She unloaded into the eye, shouting as it ran at her. She kept on firing, firing, and she didn't run. She stood her ground. It raced, she saw her death on its face, and then it stopped tilting its head like a dog.

It turned and ran the other way. It leaped and disappeared over the platform's edge, spilling blood from all the bullets it had taken. It didn't seem concerned about the damage at all.

Claire whispered, into the quiet night, "Holy shit."

And she ran, ran, and slid across the platform to where the hero cop had gone. He was there! He was there dangling twenty feet down off a jagged edge.

"OH MY GOD!"

"Claire! I could use some help here!"

"Hold on!"

Claire ran into the hanger and found a length of 550 cord in a box beneath the table. She ran to the platform's edge, tossed the end over, and tied the other end to the lift car. She watched as the hot rookie cop started pulling himself up.

"Are you ok, Leon?"

"Well…I've been better! I started out getting dumped. I was late for work and got attacked by zombies in the street. I've been slapped, thrown, knocked down, and covered in bugs. I'm filthy, tired, scared as piss, and still figure I've got a long way to go before I grab a magazine and potentially spend half an hour dropping a deuce…so I've been better. As a caveat to that? I could be dead instead. So I'm doing ok."

Claire grabbed his uniform and dragged him up on the platform with her.

She laughed a little and helped him to his feet. "I'm pretty sure this is the worst night of my life."

Claire wiped some dirt off his face. He turned his eyes to her. And she said, "I've had worse nights. And HELLA worst company."

And now he chuckled, digging on her. "The company is good. In other news, this might be the best date I've ever been on."

Claire chuckled and kissed him, hard, on the mouth. "Same."

Leon lifted his hand and showed her the key there, "Who's the coolest guy you know?"

"You are a god amongst men, Leon Kennedy. Seriously." She turned back to the hangar, "Sherry? Come out, honey. The monster is gone, and we've got the key."

Sherry hurried out of the hangar. She nodded and leaped into the car. Leon went to the control panel, put the key in, and hit the button to activate the lift. Lights swirled, and a warning gong started. They leaped on board, and Claire went to the front to turn the lever to take them down further into the worst night of their lives.

There was a grind of turning gears and the floor opened beneath them. The lift made a whirring sound, and they started a controlled descent down into the darkness. Sherry was curled in a seat, staring wide-eyed at them.

Claire knelt and touched her face. "Are you ok?"

"That was my daddy."

Claire blinked at her. "What?"

"That monster is my daddy. It's him. He wants me. I don't know why. I don't want him to find me."

"I won't let him take you. I promise."

Leon was studying the conductor's logs as the lift took them deeper into the nightmare of what waited beneath the necropolis that had once been Raccoon City. How deep was the conspiracy here, he speculated, and how far down the rabbit hole would they go to find the answers? Was there any way out of this that didn't end with them dead or silenced by the flashing end of a muzzle or the snarling end of a monster?

He just didn't know.

He turned to say something snarky, and there was a loud boom. It shook the car as something landed on top of the roof. Sherry squealed.

Claire grabbed her to protect her, and the ceiling ripped back. It was torn open with a sparking squeal like a can opener. And the monster from the platform speared one nasty arm straight through the opening it made.

Leon fired into the opening. The heavy round hit it right in the rolling, bleeding eyeball. It roared and reared back to rip the roof clean off. Leon fired again, the last of his heavy magnum rounds. It struck Birkin as he reared, and the force of it, the momentum of the lift, and his weight were enough to knock it clear. He blasted it with his pistol as it shot off into the darkness.

But before it went. It thrust that long, awful arm into the compartment one more time. It missed Claire by inches, by a breath, and drove that long talon right into its daughter. It caught Sherry in the shoulder and speared her to the lift's wall.

"NO!" Claire shouted, and Leon put two more shots in that rolling, ugly eye.

Birkin was ripped clear and tossed into the darkness, roaring.

Sherry collapsed to the floor, bleeding and crying. The lift came to a slow and steady stop on the ground floor of their final destination with a bleep and gong of arrival. Leon holstered his pistol and picked up the girl in his arms.

Claire covered them as they moved out of the car. There was a first-aid office to the right that they moved quickly toward. Two other doors awaited their attention, but Sherry was in trouble. She needed attention right then.

In the small aid station, Claire was treating the wound in her shoulder. Sherry gasped and shivered. She was crying but surprisingly calm for such a little girl. "I'm going to die."

Claire shook her head, shook it again, "No. We'll get you out of here."

"He infected me. I'm going to die."

Claire met her eyes. "There's a vaccine. Right? There has to be a vaccine."

"Maybe. But I don't know where."

"I will find it, honey. I will. Just stay here and sleep." Claire stripped off her vest, and the little girl put it on, smiling now. "Look at you. Now you're a tough girl."

"Just like you?"

"Yeah. Just like me."

Sherry laid down on the cot and closed her eyes. Claire turned back to Leon in that tight black shirt. Objectively, he thought, it was a nice rack. Without the vest, you could see just how nice. She was busty, was Claire Redfield.

His brain said, totally irrelevant to the situation, hero. Focus. And stop booby-watching.

Claire stepped up beside him. "We need to find the vaccine."

"If there is one? We'll find it. You're ok leaving her?"

"She's safer here, I think. Let's lock the door as we go."

Claire took the keys to the room and pocketed them. They locked the door as they left. There were two options in the central area again, which felt cool and refreshing—a door to her right and another to the left.

She turned to Leon. He was watching her boobs in that top. She coughed, and his attention came up.

"Yo. Yeah. What's up?"

"Focus, handsome. There's time for that later. Left or right?"

Leon tossed a coin to decide for them. "Left it is!"

"Awesome. Let's hurry."

They went through the left door and came out in a hallway. They moved down it together. Claire turned her head a little to watch him. She liked how he kept looking at her. Like she was sexy and irresistible.

Her brain said: well, you did have your hand in his pants earlier.

That was true. But that had been to help him refocus. Her mind giggled; you often stick your hands in a guy's pants to help them focus? Maybe you stuff your hand down your professor's pants next time you see him to get him to teach better. Maybe you stick your hand around your mechanic's dick when he's fixing your bike.

Claire chuckled at herself. Ok, so maybe it was different. She was into the cop. Clearly, he was funny and quite dorky, and…he bent down to look in a vent beside them. And he had the HOTTEST ass she'd ever seen on a cop. And she'd been hanging around cops for years.

"Anything in there?"

"No. But I can hear something, ya know? I wish I could figure out where the sound is coming from."

Claire moved to the end of the hallway. And she heard the shouting.

Leon came running, and they watched as two women faced each other. One was Ada Wong, in that stupid little dress; the other was a blonde woman with a crazy expression on her face.

"You won't get it! YOU BITCH!"

Ada was waving her hands. "Ease down! I don't even know what "it" is!"

"You liar! You fake! It's mine! And William's!"

The roar of the eyeball monster was loud now. It was coming. It was coming from somewhere close by, clearly. The woman with the gun waved it around, and Leon shoved Claire against the wall and shook his head at her.

Ada said, "I'm just here to find my boyfriend."

"Liar! SPY! You won't get it!" And the gun went off.

Later, Claire would think the situation was a disaster but could have been avoided with some kind of finesse from Ada Wong. But clearly, she didn't care about that.

She also wasn't shot.

The sound of retreating footsteps was loud and echoing.

And there was Leon, face down on Ada Wong on the floor. So she wasn't shot. But he was.

Claire shouted and ran to pull him off the other woman. "IDIOT! Why!?"

His uniform was ragged and ripped at the armpit. He was bleeding rather badly. She slapped a hand over it as Ada Wong ran away.

"BITCH!" Claire shouted.

She heard Ada call back, "I'm sorry! I am SO sorry. But I have to go after that woman!"

Claire looped his arm around her shoulders and hefted him to his feet. He grunted, wavering on his feet. "Come on, handsome. Come on. Over here." She led him to the door closest to them and opened it to find a small office.

She shut the door gently and locked it. Taking care not to hurt him more, she helped him to the desk and set him on it quickly. He groaned.

"I'm sorry. Let's get this off you."

She helped him out of his vest and shirt. In his undershirt, she could see the ragged hole in his body. It was bloody but straight through the skin beside his armpit. It was ugly but shallow. Claire moved around and found a lab coat still in the package in a drawer. She ripped it into strips and moved back to dress his wound.

"Here, hold pressure, ok?" He did while she hunted up a bottle of hemostatic medicine in a cabinet by the wall and some pain killers. She brought back a bottle of water with it. She dressed and bound him, silent and sympathetic.

He watched her face, a little dizzy.

She asked, "Better?"

And his voice was quiet, "Better."

"Why?"

"I'm a cop, right? It's what we do."

She cupped his face gently, "I don't think you're a cop anymore. Not really. Do you?"

"I am until you're safe. Until that little girl is safe. I'm still a cop, Claire. I'll protect you."

"….you noble fool. We'll protect each other." A different kiss this time. She stepped between his legs while he sat with a hand pressed to his bullet wound.

His other hand cupped her butt to drag her against his body. She held his face and laid one on him. He was woozy, hell yeah, but he was also dizzy from her. She was something else.

She might have gone on kissing him. But the roaring filled the room around them. They drew apart, watching each other.

She said, "You stay here. I'm going to go look for the vaccine."

"What? I'm not waiting here! Are you insane?"

He was slipping on his uniform top and clipping on his vest. "Leon, you can't go on. Go back with Sherry. I'll be ok."

"Don't be stupid, Claire. I'm not just going to let you go out there and fight that thing alone. No way."

She watched his face. He lifted his brows. "I'm fine. The bleeding can be controlled with the hemostat. The painkiller will kick in soon enough. I'm fine. Seriously. Come on."

He opened the door to the office and glanced up and down the hallway. Satisfied that it was clear, they stepped out together. He followed the trail of Ada Wong down the hallway where she'd run. They came around the corner and started toward the walkway on the other side.

The walkway spread over what was clearly the boiler room. There was the plop, pop, fizz, and steady roar of rushing lava beneath them. It was three thousand degrees in the room. The world wavered and rolled like only good humidity and heat can produce.

They were halfway across the walkway to the waiting room, and the trenchcoat man stepped out in front of them.

"Holy shit," Said Claire, "Holy holy shit."

"Right. Fucking right." Leon rolled his neck and shoulders. It hurt his bad arm. But they were on a narrow walkway over boiling lava now. So it wasn't like they could just have a showdown.

"What now?"

"Run?"

"Where?!"

"Good point."

But they had to run anyway because trenchcoat mofo was raising across the walkway toward them. Claire shouted in response, and Leon might have too. Maybe. But it was probably really masculine and harsh sounding.

He was pretty sure he sounded like Stallone, all harsh and macho. Pretty sure.

Mofo chased them over the walkway while they scrambled away like terrified toddlers. They hit the far side and tried to go back through the door they'd come through. Nope.

NOPE.

Locked.

Leon hit the door with his shoulder and hissed with pain.

"Oh my god…." Claire turned back to face the thing rushing at them. She looked over the railing beside them. And she jumped over.

Leon grabbed for her, and she was already climbing down the iron railing like a ladder. OH, he thought, impressed, oh yeah. That worked too.

He followed her, feeling the roiling, boiling heat that washed over them. They dropped to the narrow and tiny platform below them, next to the world's most giant compressor. Mofo jumped after them, and they were shouting and running again.

And then Mofo grabbed Claire around the throat. She gasped, kicking her legs. Leon stopped running, reversed, and had a very Leon Kennedy moment.

Later, as he got older, he'd reflect on this moment as the one that defined him as a hero. Really. It totally was. It was his moment.

He rushed Mofo like a hero. He bumrushed that big bastard to save the girl. It's what he did. Yep. No hesitation.

Ok. A little hesitation. He was muttering whafuck over and over again as he did it. But he did it. So that was saying something.

Mofo dropped Claire and grabbed him instead. He lifted him to eye level and started squeezing. It was a bit like what he imagined it felt like to be squished in a trash compacter. He could feel the bones and blood and muscles in his body compressing like it was nothing.

And he was totally shouting now. It was not in the LEAST bit masculine. It was more like a girl who sees a spider and freaks out. But he was probably dying. So he got to scream like a girl.

And Claire grabbed the wrist of Mofo, kicked her feet against his leg, and climbed up him. It was impressive. It was pretty fucking impressive. She drove her knife right into his face while he tried to shake her off like a bug and crush Leon simultaneously. She pushed it right into his face screaming like a Valkyrie.

She ripped the blade out in a spray of blood and drove it into his face again. He had had enough of her, clearly. He chuckled Leon away like an angry baby with an unwanted piece of food. Leon flipped end over end and smashed into the wall. He slid to the floor, skidding, and managed to NOT fall into the lava, which was a miracle. But he swallowed his gum, so that sucked shit.

He staggered to his feet, and Claire was being shaken like a maraca. Leon ran. Again, later, he'd think back on how he was always running. But he ran like the wind now. And he leaped. He leaped up and climbed up the back of that nasty monster. He grappled as Mofo tried to shake him loose and put the pistol in his hand to the back of that nasty head.

He pulled the trigger until it dry fired, and Mofo? He staggered, toppled, and tried to take them both into the lava with him as he went sideways and down. He sank in the thick burning liquid like it was quicksand.

Leon and Claire watched him sink until his ugly trenchcoat was gone entirely.

And Claire realized that the hot cop had stepped slightly in front of her.

Touched, she kissed his sweaty cheek.

"Come on, handsome! Hurry!"

They climbed to the top of the iron walkway. Claire helped him up and noticed he was very pale. She pressed a hand to his wound and held his eyes.

"Thank you."

Leon scoffed. "I didn't do anything we haven't been doing all night."

"You're kind of a hero, aren't you?"

"I don't even know what that means."

"It means you keep trying to sacrifice yourself for others. It's a bad habit, Leon Kennedy. You get to trying to save the world. It won't ever stop."

"Savior complex. My curse on the world."

Claire helped him through the door and out of the intense heat. The good news? It looked like they were in the lab. The bad news? They weren't alone.

They were staring down the barrel of Ada Wong's giant, shiny gun.