Chapter 16: Revitalized
(MAT)
Mat managed to stay on his feet for about two minutes after parting ways with Jill. Then he stumbled and dropped to his knees, his vision swimming, his head burning. He stayed on his hands and knees for a few minutes, trying to recover his faculties, before trying to stand again.
That was a mistake.
Mat's head spun again, and when he woke up, he was facedown in a small pool of his own bile. With a disgusted cough, he scrambled away, dragging the grenade launcher behind him.
He heard a shuffling, dragging step behind him, a different pitch from the sounds his own progress was making. Turning, he saw a zombie, a middle aged man in a torn and stained sanitation worker's uniform, stumbling toward him. Mat stood, transfixed for a moment, taking the man in as he shuffled forward.
This had been somebody's uncle once, he decided, noting in his harried state that the zombie wasn't wearing any kind of wedding band. He just…looked like an uncle. He was a skinny man, with a clean shaven face, his blue eyes hidden behind cataracts that simply made the color seem paler. His lips skimmed back over straight teeth…no wait, that wasn't right. There was something dangling just below his nose. It was his-
"Fuck!" Mat exclaimed, snapping back to the moment and scrambling away from the man. For some reason, the man's lip hanging from his face was just about the most horrific thing he'd ever seen on a zombie, and that brought him back to his senses. Dropping the grenade launcher, he jerked the 1911 from its back holster and fired twice, his first round hitting the zombie in the throat, his second splattering the back of its head open. The thing jerked back, its sightless eyes rolling up as it dropped to the street.
Mat stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, the Colt's reports echoing on the mostly deserted streets. Damn, but the .45 was loud, and that wasn't especially desirable in his current situation. As if to confirm that, he heard a single, high pitched shriek that sent shivers down his spine. Great he thought irritably. That's just what I need.
Mat stooped down, grabbed the launcher, then made his way down the street, still hunched, but trying harder not to drag the grenade launcher. He made it to a storefront, collapsing against one of the doorposts and trying to catch his breath. After a few minutes, he looked up at the sign.
A pharmacy? That might come in handy…
Mat took a few steps back, then stood as straight as he could manage and kicked the door as hard as he could. That wasn't enough on his first try, but two more fairly solid kicks and the door stuttered its way open, wobbling loudly on the impact. Mat winced at the extra noise, but stumbled into the pharmacy regardless.
The pharmacy was dark, and more surprisingly, still mostly intact. Mat chalked that up to medicine not being immediately high on one's list of priorities for the end of the world. He stumbled over to the counter and set down the grenade launcher and the P90, pausing another minute to regain his resolve, before turning back to the store. After a moment's consideration, he pulled the rail flashlight off his SMG, then clicked it on. He didn't have time to let his eyes adjust to the darkness in the store.
Mat grabbed two bottles of Tylenol, stuffing them into his pocket after dry swallowing two capsules. After a moment's consideration, he grabbed two more and shoved them in his backpack. He suspected the painkillers wouldn't even begin to do much about the aches in his body, but it was a start of sorts.
Mat also ran across some caffeine tablets, which he took as well. The way things were going, he was going to need to stay awake for a while, and that would be easier if he had a little chemical assistance.
Then Mat heard a shuffling noise from behind him, and froze. It was the same one he'd heard on the street a few minutes ago, but this one was both closer and yet oddly muted. He turned, slowly, keeping the flashlight's beam trained ahead of him.
There was a door behind the counter, he saw. STAFF ONLY, it said in reflective lettering. Mat considered his next move.
The smart thing to do would be to simply pack up and leave. The zombie, if that was what it was, wasn't any threat to him, and besides, there was no reason to waste ammo or risk infection.
On the other hand, Mat was a cop, that thing was a potential danger to the citizens he'd sworn to protect and serve, and there was no escaping he was still a police officer. Grumbling, Mat lurched in the direction of the door. He set the light on the counter, drew the .45, then jerked open the door, jumping back and picking up the light.
He was looking into the pharmacy's store room. He could see box after box stacked before him, with various corporate logos and storage instructions. He saw a few boxes a black and white variant of Umbrella's emblem, along with several others he didn't recognize.
Mat stepped into the store room, turning to his right, the light held at eye level, the Colt pointed at the ground. It was bad gun safety to sweep a room with your gun, since you ran the risk of shooting someone by accident. He'd still be able to bring up the .45 if he needed it, and-
The shuffling sound was followed by a pitiful moan this time. Mat instinctively hunched lower, wincing at the ache in his ribs as he made his way toward the sound, maneuvering through the cardboard boxes and metal shelves.
There was a zombie stuck in a corner, having upset two boxes of supplies on top of itself. It kept trying to push them aside, and was moaning in what sounded like mounting frustration at its inability to free itself. Then it realized it was being watched and looked up, its slack face almost childlike in the flashlight's beam.
Mat put a bullet in its brain, the .45's report loud in the enclosed space. The zombie's head exploded out behind it, blood, bone, and brain spraying the wall behind it. The thing's head jerked on impact; then it sank to the floor.
Mat lowered the handgun and stood there for a moment, shaking his head a little to clear it. Then his flashlight's beam fell on the boxes the zombie had knocked over, and he smiled a little. Umbrella's most famous creation had stopped their most secret, he saw, bending down to take two of the small, travel-sized first aid sprays littering the floor. The things would almost certainly come in handy, and besides, whoever or wherever the owner was, he wasn't complaining. All the same, Mat planned to leave some money on the counter. That way, at least his conscience would be clear-
"What's this?" he muttered, bending down next to a large, cardboard display leaning against a wall. It was still folded up; whatever was being advertised wasn't actually on the shelves yet, but Mat was curious all the same.
From the People Who Brought You
Aquacure
Comes the Next Great Breakthrough from Umbrella, Inc.
Safesprin is More than Just Another Painkiller
Clears Your Head
Relaxes Your Joints
Wakes You Up
Escape to Ecstasy with Safesprin
Mat pondered that last bit. He needed something a bit stronger than Tylenol, but this stuff sounded like it might get him high…On the other hand; it was possible that was just a poorly worded sales pitch. With a shrug, he set off looking for the wonder drug.
Wonder of wonders, he found an entire case of the stuff in the very back of the storeroom. It was taped shut, but Rain's knife made short work of that, and Mat pulled a bottle out, rolling it around in his hand, reading the instructions on the back. The side effects didn't seem too bad (nothing about, say, turning him into a zombie), and he was in a lot of pain…Mat took the bottle back up front, where he found a bottle of water to wash two pills down with.
Suddenly, he felt like he'd been electrified, every nerve on his body wide awake, every ache and pain gone, or at least masked where he couldn't feel it anymore, which was good enough for him.
"The hell is this stuff?" he muttered, sliding the bottle into his pocket. With a strangely newfound spring in his step, Mat slung the HKp over his shoulder, reattached the flashlight to his P90, and set off again, feeling better than he had in ages.
(JILL)
Two streets away, Jill came to the realization she was carrying enough ordnance to rattle with each step. Despite her situation being any but ordinary, the amount of noise she was making had the same effect it would've had she been in a normal operation: people (living and infected) could hear her coming.
Jill didn't really know what to do about that. Between her two Samurai Edges, the Silver Serpent, and the Benelli, she was carrying quite a bit of firepower, but if that STARS hunter showed up again, she suspected she'd need all of it to put the bastard down.
The only things she had to worry about putting down now were infected people, though, and Jill had already realized she simply wasn't ever going to have enough ammo to put every single t-virus victim down. Raccoon City had a population of over 100,000 people; odds were better than even most of them were now shambling around, looking for something to devour.
Instead, she'd taken a more egalitarian approach. Unless an infected was showing untoward interest in her, or was in her way, Jill wasn't going to waste a bullet on them. On some level that bothered her; she was allowing people to walk around in their horrific state because to shoot them would've been impractical. Still, anything else would've gotten her eaten, so in the end the choice wasn't a hard one.
At the moment, the streets were relatively clear, aside from a few infected shuffling around in the darkness underneath a awnings. Jill was trying to stay in the shadows, where she'd be less likely to be seen by one of the infected stumbling around in the road, looking for something to eat. She could hear her breathing rasping as she tried to keep calm.
The zombie lurking in the darkness struck without warning, reaching out and grabbing Jill's ankle, moaning piteously as it tried to pull her foot into its open, waiting mouth.
"Ugh!" Jill exclaimed, stumbling back and falling, the zombie crawling toward her and allowing her to get a better look at it…or what was left of it, anyway. There wasn't much, just an upper torso, two arms, and a head, connected to a severed but still wiggling spinal column, which flopped around like the tale of a large fish.
"Jesus!" Jill exclaimed, kicking with her free leg, her boot impacting on its skull. The infected's grip actually tightened, and Jill let out a cry of disgust, smashing the thing's head open and pounding its brain into a moist pulp on the street.
Breathing heavily, Jill stood up, her eyes darting around frantically to see if anything had-
"Shit" she muttered, watching two curious zombies begin to shuffle her way. This wasn't going to be easy.
Something big, red, and shiny crashed through the window of a nearby shop and began to scuttle toward her on all fours. Not easy at all.
Jill racked the pump on the Benelli, checking to see if a shell was in the chamber. The red monster was joined by two more, which crawled out of the same shop and began to advance on her, their breathing low and raspy, like an asthmatic. More zombies were appearing as well, coming from down alleys, or around the corner.
"Alright, you want me?" Jill muttered, bringing the stockless shotgun up to eye level. She pulled the trigger, a concentrated dose of buckshot aimed at the nearest of the new red BOWs. The lead pellets smacked into the monster's hide, causing it to shrink back in surprise. Then, with an angry shriek it leapt into the air, one of its large, vicious talons raised high over its head.
Jill rolled to the side, bringing the shotgun up and pulling the trigger…then cursing herself when the weapon clicked on an empty chamber. She'd forgotten to pump, and the monster was coming.
"Fuck it" she muttered, throwing the weapon away. "At least I still have this!"
The Silver Serpent nearly kicked back into her nose, the .44 magnum bucking in her hands, the heavy bullet slamming into the monster's body and blasting a hole roughly half an inch in diameter in its middle. The monster was knocked backward by the blast, landing on the pavement with a wet smack. It thrashed in a widening pool of its own blood, an odd and gory approximation of a snow angle. The thing's head was thrown back, a pained scream escaping its wide-jawed mouth, but Jill didn't dare waste another bullet on it, not when two more of the things were coming.
"Come on!" she shouted, firing the magnum again, the bullet taking the next red creature on top what looked like its brain, splattering its head on the pavement. The thing didn't even have enough time to cry out, dropping limply to the pavement, its companion scuttling over its body alarmingly fast-
Jill spun, her left leg locked in a reverse roundhouse kick that sent the monster sprawling. Not inclined to be merciful, she leveled the Serpent in a two handed grip and shooting it at almost point blank in the gut. Hot blood splashed on Jill's legs, and she worried she might have just splattered herself in T-virus. But the .44's reports were echoing in the streets, answered by the cries of more zombies, and she knew that was a longer term problem than she really had time for.
"Shit" she muttered again, shoving the magnum into her shoulder holster and looking around for the Benelli. She spotted it…now three feet behind the front row of zombies. Fantastic.
Jill yanked the Samurai Edge out of her leg holster, flicking the safety with her thumb and backing up. She aimed at a nearby infected, a man in a tattered Ramones t-shirt, and pulled the trigger, the infected's head jerking back on impact, his brain sprayed out of his skull, his body dropping heavily to the ground. But more zombies were coming, and Jill pulled out the other Samurai Edge, the one Brad had dropped, gripping it tightly in her left hand. Dual-wielding like this was stupid, but at the moment she needed volume of fire, not accuracy. She just had to knock enough of these things down so she could turn and run-
Jill raised her left hand to eye level and fired, using the barrel of the handgun like an extension of her index finger. Bullets smacked into the body of the zombie she'd pointed at, walking up from her stomach to her head. Jill switched hands, firing her own Samurai Edge the same way, this time more accurately, her second bullet smacking into an infected boy's face and shattering his skull.
Then Jill felt something solid behind her, and whirled to see she'd backed into a yellow cab. Worse, there was something inside, an infected business woman, who pressed her pale face to the window, pounding and moaning, shaking the entire car. Jill recoiled in disgust and fired both weapons, shattering the window and the zombie's jaw before running on.
Jill spun again, point shooting both Samurai Edges in rapid succession, her shots causing the front rank of infected to stumble and drop, but not causing them to stop in their single minded scramble for her, several simply continuing to crawl in her direction. Then the slide locked back on Brad's weapon, and Jill hurled it at a heavyset zombie with a ponytail, distracting him long enough for her to put a bullet in his head from her own handgun. Jill shot two more before her own weapon clicked open and empty. Desperately she thumbed the magazine release, dropping the empty feed device to the sidewalk and yanking a fresh one out of her pocket.
The infected were too close for Jill to drop them before they got within biting range, though, so she changed tactics. Dropping the handgun, she leapt up, grabbing a fire escape with both hands and hoisting herself onto the nearest zombie's shoulders. She squeezed its head between her thighs, snapping its neck with a twist of her hips, its body immediately going limp. Two other zombies mobbed her, though, despite her best efforts to keep them back with her legs, and Jill knew she was about to die, waiting for the sensation of their teeth sinking into her bare calves-
The explosion caught her completely by surprise. She looked up to see a huge gap in the mob of infected, several broken and burning pieces of zombies falling through the air. She looked to her left, to see a surprising figure standing at the other end of the street.
"Jill, hold on!" Mat shouted, shoving the barrel of the grenade launcher forward, the empty shell within dropping to the street as he loaded in a fresh one and pulled the foregrip back, locking the chamber in place. He fired the explosive launcher a second time, the blast knocking more zombies away, several catching on fire from the explosion. Then Mat dropped the launcher and raised his SMG, opening fire. His first few shots were aimed at the infected closest to Jill, but the range was a bit extreme, and she felt the air whizz past her from one round that came too close.
"Watch it!" she shouted angrily. Mat ignored her, wading into the mob, firing his P90 at almost point blank, single rounds dropping several infected in rapid succession. Jill dropped down, snatching her handgun and the magazine off the sidewalk and reloading, popping back up and shooting the two infected she'd been keeping at bay, only to see the fight was over.
"Mat…" she said. "How did you-?"
Mat pointed to the Silver Serpent. "That thing is loud. Plus, you were doing a lot of shouting earlier. I could hear you a couple of blocks away. At first I thought you'd run into tall, dark, and irritating again, so I came running." He shrugged, gesturing to the bodies laid out in the street. "Compared to that, this wasn't so bad." He stooped and picked up Brad's Samurai Edge, checking the magazine. "Seriously, this guy uses a compensator on a 9mm? How recoil sensitive is he?" He started to offer it to Jill, who waved it off. Mat shrugged and unlocked the slide, putting the weapon in one of the dozen or so pockets on his pants.
"Thanks" Jill said. "You bailed me out back there."
Mat nodded. "Yeah, Jill, I did. You'd better get your shit together, because this is only gonna get harder from here on out. You'd better focus, because I can't keep saving you."
"Now hand on just a minute!" Jill snapped, anger finally boiling to the surface. "That's enough! I have had it with you and your anger. What is it you think I've done that's so fucking bad you feel justified to treat me like this?"
"You wanna know?" Mat shouted back. "You really wanna know? Well fine! You weren't here, Jill! I have no idea what is was you were doing, but whatever or whoever it was, you sure as hell weren't where we needed you!" He shook his head in disgust. "Do you have any idea how many times Rebecca and I almost died yesterday? How many other cops did die, because you weren't there to help them? So where the fuck have you been, Jill? WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?"
"I've been out here, Mat, just like you. I've been trying to do the right thing!" Jill screamed. "But every time, every single time, things fuck up and people die! And now that thing's after us, and on top of that, I've got to deal with your attitude. Right now it's just you and me against that thing, so you are gonna have to get over this, grow the fuck up, and move on! Because if you can't, if you're not man enough to, then odds are we're both going to die!"
They stared at each other for a long minute, both breathing heavily. Jill could see some of the anger leaving Mat, which she decided was something of a shame, because she was really just getting warmed up. It felt good, after having put up with him for the past hour, to finally let him have it.
"What?" she snapped. "What do you have to say for yourself, huh? Are you going to keep being such a raging prick, or are we going to start working together?" She gave him a moment, then shouted again. "Well?"
Mat didn't answer at first. Instead, his eyes drifted to Jill's left, his right hand dropping down to his leg, reaching for his gun. "What are you-?"
"Watch out!" he shouted, leaning around her, snapping the .45 up and shooting the sprinting crimson head between the eyes, its momentum causing the monster to tumble and roll toward them. An angry roar echoed from further down the alley the first infected had come from, and Jill heard the sound of more shuffling feet.
"Let's go" she said.
Mat nodded. "Right, c'mon."
They hurried down the street, the angry sounds of the pursuing crimson heads sounding like they were almost right behind them. Soon, though, the roars became distant, and eventually they'd left the monsters behind.
Jill and Mat stood panting in the middle of the street, bent nearly double as they tried to catch their breath.
"It's a good thing they lost interest" Jill muttered, shaking her head. "I don't think I could've kept running like that forever."
"Me either" Mat replied, his face almost purple. "That was close." He paused, studying the building they'd stopped in front of. "Hey, look at this" he said, clicking the flashlight on his P90 on, shining it on the sign above the tall building's door.
RACCOON PRESS
"A newspaper office? Why is that significant?"
"Because one of their reporters is currently rotting away in the bottom of the main precinct" Mat replied. "He was onto Umbrella, so Chief Irons locked him up. Anyway, I'll bet there'll be something useful left in his office. What do you say we go take a look?"
"I don't know" Jill replied, looking at the smoke billowing from one window. "It looks like there may be a fire. I'd rather not risk it."
Mat shrugged. "Oh, c'mon. What's the worst that could-?"
He never got to finish that question. As if to answer it, a huge shape leapt down from the roof, landing on the street directly in front of him, the pavement buckling under its huge weight. "STARS" the monster intoned.
"What the fuck?" Mat exclaimed, falling on his ass and scrambling backwards, away from the huge BOW stomping toward him. A hue paw reached out-
BLAM! The monster recoiled its hand in surprise.
"Back off, jackass!" Jill shouted, fighting the Silver Serpent's recoil for another shot. "He's with me!"
Mat scrambled backwards on all fours. Jill grabbed the front of his jacket and hauled him to his feet, shoving him away as she did so. Mat stumbled a few feet, looking back over his shoulder at her in confusion.
"Run!" she shouted, following her own advice. Behind her, she heard the Tyrant shake its shot up hand out, then growl and begin to stomp after them.
"STARS."
Mat was sprinting as fast as he could, the flashlight on his P90 bobbing to his left with each step. Up ahead Jill could see a tall, rusted metal sign attached to a chain link fence. Squinting, she could read the writing across its front.
Manning Trucking and Rail Transport
"Mat, up ahead!" she shouted. She could make out the rectangular shapes of shipping crates. With luck they'd be able to lose their unwanted pursuer here…
"Got it!" Mat replied, bringing the P90 up and firing a burst into the gate as he ran, his bullets sparking off the metal. A luck shot destroyed a large padlock on a rusty chain and Mat lunged at the door, his right shoulder, smashing the gate open. Mat rolled through, pivoting on his knees and bringing the P90 up again, taking aim at the monster as Jill ran toward him.
"No time!" she shouted, grabbing his jacket again and dragging him backward. She heard a crunch of metal as the Tyrant followed, a roar of pure range escaping its mouth.
Jill pulled Mat into the shadows of a shipping crate, clamping a hand over his flashlight, a finger pressed to her lips. Mat nodded, catching on and clicking his flashlight off.
"Split up" Jill hissed.
Mat nodded again, crouching low and moving away, the P90 clutched tightly to his chest.
Jill slid in the opposite direction, darting between two stacks of crates behind the Tyrant's back, the monster standing ominously still in the wreckage of the fence, its shoulders heaving, its bald and grey head scanning from left to right as it hunted them.
Jill pressed her back against the shipping crate, its rough, cold metal against her skin just another sensation in her adrenaline drenched state. Trying to catch her breath, she closed her eyes, leaning her head back, willing her heart to slow down, a stress relief exercise her dad used before a heist and had taught her when she was five to help her with tests at school. It worked every time.
Jill pulled the Silver Serpent out of its holster, swinging out the cylinder and ejecting the shells, taking the two still good cartridges and sliding them back into place, before putting in four more. Carefully she slid the four empty casings to the ground, her heart almost frozen in terror at the possibility of revealing noise. One casing clinked against the metal crate, an insignificant sound which felt closer to a gunshot in the stillness.
The Tyrant stiffened, its breathing changing, a sharp exhalation of surprise. It turned, and Jill could hear its footsteps approaching. Oh God she pleaded, silently in her head. Oh God please…
The clatter of a wood plank being knocked over caused the Tyrant to snort and whirl around, its head darting side to side for the source of the noise. Jill took her cue and hurried deeper into the maze of crates. Just as she'd found another spot to hide in the darkness, she heard the Tyrant's heavy boots approaching. Jill squatted and backpeddle, trying to make herself as small as possible, while the Tyrant made its way toward her.
It's like it can smell me Jill thought, watching as the monster's head slowly rolled on its massive neck, its single, milky white eye trying to penetrate the darkness.
Then Jill noticed something else: movement caught in a puddle of water. A suspended crate hanging about fifteen feet from the ground. And crouched atop this swaying perch was Mat, the grenade launcher he'd taken from the precinct aimed over the side, down at the monster, his face pale with fear, his eyes slightly wide as he sighted down the weapon's barrel.
Jill reached down and grabbed a small piece of concrete, hurling it around the corner in Mat's direction. The tiny missile struck his hand and he mouthed a silent exclamation, his eyes darting up to find the source. His eyes locked with Jill's.
No Jill mouthed, shaking her head, waving her arms. No good.
Mat shook his head, pointing down at the monster.
"Mat!" Jill hissed, causing the monster's head to jerk up, a low growl as it started to pound toward her. Jill ducked around the corner. In the puddle she could still see Mat. The image was distorted by ripples from the Tyrant's approach, but she could see his finger starting to press down on the trigger…
A sudden whirring noise caused the monster to freeze, its head jerking toward the sky. Jill, from where she crouched, could see a twin rotored helicopter buzzing over the city, its hull painted white, a large red cross in the middle.
The monster let out a wordless snarl at the this sight, spinning around to watch the evacuation chopper. Without another sound it stomped away, heading toward the noise.
After about a minute and a half, Jill let out an explosive breath of relief, standing up from the puddle of water she'd been huddling in. She was soaked in yesterday's rain, her legs now stained with soot, but she was alive, and that was enough for Jill.
She stepped out of hiding, heading toward the crate Mat was lying flat on top of. She could hear his breathing, heavy and fast.
"Mat?" she called out.
With a grunt, Mat rolled over and pitched himself off the crate, landing with his knees bent. He stood, his eyes a little wide, but otherwise unhurt.
"That was insane" he managed, a weak smile on his face. "Man, I thought we were screw-"
The attack came from out of nowhere, the Tyrant landing between Mat and Jill, the concrete buckling under its weight. With a backhanded swipe it sent Jill sprawling. She heard Mat scream her name as she hit the ground.
The Tyrant spun around to face him. Mat had the launcher at hip level, and he raised the barrel to point at the Tyrant's face. "Come on, you bast-!" he began, but the monster grabbed weapon, yanking it out of his hands. With a wrenching groan, the weapon's barrel crunched in its fist.
The Tyrant used the weapon's strap to reel Mat in like a fish. With a quick flick of its wrist, it hurled the broken grenade launcher away, wrapping its hand around Mat's skull as it lifted him into the air, the tentacle in its other palm wagging disgustingly. Mat yanked the Colt out of its holster, firing wildly at the monster, but the .45 bullets only flattened against the Tyrant's thick skin.
Jill brought the magnum up without hesitation, aiming down the weapon's sights. Her first shot struck the Tyrant's forearm, causing its fingers to spasm. Her second hit the tentacle dead-on, severing it completely.
The Tyrant screamed in pain, dropping Mat as it clutched its injured hand, stumbling around in agony. It swung drunkenly at Mat with its good fist, but he rolled out of the way. Jill followed up by a shot to the back of the monster's knee, and wonderfully, the monster dropped, catching itself on its clenched fist.
Jill saw Mat come up with a metal cylinder in his hand, shaped like an enormous bullet, its metal casing a sickly yellow. With a savage crack he struck the bottom against a wall, then hurled the grenade at the monster's face. The explosive detonated, showering the monster in acid. It let out a bellow of rage and swatted desperately at its face, the corrosive fluids eating away at its one good eye.
Mat drew his handgun and started shooting up. Jill heard bullets ricocheting and saw what he was shooting at: the cable holding the crate he'd been hiding on.
"Jill-" he shouted unnecessarily.
"Got it" she muttered, raising the .44 and pulling the trigger.
There was a flash of fire from the cylinder as the magnum fired, the bullet spinning its way out of the barrel. With a metallic ping it struck the winch cable, severing it easily. The Tyrant's head darted up in surprise as the container dropped directly on top of it.
"Are you okay?" Jill asked Mat as she made her way toward him.
Mat waved her off. "Yeah, I'm fine, but we gotta go!"
"What?"
"That thing, it's still alive!" Mat shouted back. As if to punctuate this, the wreckage began to shift, a huge hand smashing out of the rubble of the metal container. "We've gotta go!"
"Alright, come on!" Jill shouted, hurrying for the door.
"Jill, wait!"
She turned to look at him, puzzled. "What?"
"Remember what I told you? We've got to split up! Otherwise, that thing will just keep finding us for sure! This is where we go our separate ways."
"Mat, what are you-?"
"Jill, run!" Mat shouted, darting away from her and scrambling up a container as the monster continued to free itself from the rubble.
"See you on the other side!" he shouted over his shoulder as he leapt the gap between his container and the fence and was lost from sight.
"See you on the other side" Jill replied, quietly, before turning and running for the exit, the sounds of the Tyrant struggles to dig itself out of the rubble growing fainter and fainter behind her.