-Bitch, let go!-
Lanshiang, China
Helena and Ben went belly down with her on top of him. And Jill? She tackled Leon like a football lineman. She hit him broadside, stole his breath, and down they went. As they hit the ground, the engine passed less than an inch from her back. It shifted the world in a steaming burst of scalding wind and fear.
And it struck the shipping containers behind them with a raucous ROAR of sound. Hands-covered ears, the sky shivered, and the rain started to pour down on them. Thunder rumbled, and lightning burst somewhere in the distant inky sky.
Leon's back hit the concrete, and they slid over it with Jill atop him. His hands came up and cradled her head; they spun out and smashed into a row of barrels. She pulled him up quickly before the pain set in. Adrenaline kicked in and washed away the ache and throb of it.
Ben whispered, "Monster."
Atop the radio tower, the monster waited. It was…ugly. It was Munch's The Scream. Its face looked like melted wax with a hole for a mouth. It was massive and muscled and graying with necrotic flesh. It wore filthy pants and a shoulder holster on its enormous bulk. It was an uglier version of Bane from Batman or something. And one of its freakishly muscled arms? Well, it was a giant metal claw. It opened and closed with a rusty scream sound. And the monster made a noise that sounded like a grunting pig snarfle.
Helena grabbed Ben and ran for it. She didn't even wait. She just ran for the farthest point away from the thing coming for them.
Leon stepped beside Jake, who was now brandishing a .44-long barrel Magnum. He lifted a brow at him. "Friends of yours?"
Without missing a beat, Jake quipped, "More like an ex-girlfriend. Bitch doesn't know when to let go."
So maybe he liked Jake a little.
Maybe.
Leon snorted out a laugh, "Yeah? Welcome to the club, kid."
Jill stepped up on his other side. She one hand jacked a round into her shotgun and pushed it to her shoulder. And she said, softly, "Nemesis."
There was no more time to say anymore. The monster hit the ground before them and shook the shifting world with it. They split apart as it focused on Jake and ran for him. Sherry rolled to miss its swiping arm and shouted, "STAY CLEAR OF THAT ARM! If it catches you, it'll CRUSH you!"
That sounded like pretty good advice. Maybe a bit unnecessary given the situation. But still good.
Leon shot it in the back of the head as it grabbed Jake in its claw and started lifting him. Jill put two shotgun shells into its guts while Jake dangled. Sherry? She crawled right up onto its back and hooked her arm around its neck.
It tossed around like it would dislodge her and dropped Jake. Sherry wedged her pistol up under its massive jaws and pulled the trigger on it. It reached its good arm up to grab her, and Jill stepped into its attack range and blasted its arm above the claw with the shotgun.
It spun out, throwing Sherry like a dart. She went up and came down. Leon ran to intercept her, dropped to one knee, caught her, and spilled her back to her feet. Impressed, she blinked at him.
Jake? He took the hit from the arm the thing threw at Jill. He stepped right in the way and caught it across the chest. It threw him up and out into one of the steel shipping containers while Jill rolled to safety.
Yeah, Leon mused, maybe he liked Jake.
Leon raced toward it now as it pursued Jill across the shipping yard. It drove her back with its speed and its sheer size. She ran dry with the shotgun and rolled away, missing losing her head to its reaching claw.
Leon went right, drove his boots into a shipping container, pushed off like a slingshot, and went up. He landed on its back, pulled a Sherry and crawled up it, and put the Magnum to the side of its ugly head. It reached for him even as he pulled the trigger.
The heavy round blew out the side of its stupid head and didn't even faze it.
It grabbed his vest and jerked him free of it. It shook him and dropped him. And then? Well, it caught him in that stupid claw. The crushing was immediate. It was…probably the most painful thing he'd ever felt. Leon was pretty sure he was shouting. He was pretty sure he was dying. He knew for a fact he would probably explode into bits and blood soon enough.
And Jake was there. He swung on the arm that bound Leon like an acrobat, kicked the ugly thing twice in the face, and flipped away. It staggered, and Sherry shot in the face again. Its arm came down, the pressure eased off his dying body, and Jill shot it in the arm with the shotgun…twice.
It let him go.
Jake grabbed him and pulled him free…and the thing smashed its clawed arm into the ground where he'd been.
Jake, the skinny kid, was strong as fuck. He threw Leon out and away like a bullet. Leon rolled, skidded over the ground, and flipped to his feet. They looked at each other with the same expression: grudging respect.
Leon gestured with his head, and Jake looked behind him. There were gathered bundles of oil drums on top of the shipping containers. The fire touched the oil and set fire to the world. They had the same plan at that moment -if they could get the oil and the fire together…ka-blooey…monster soup.
Jake nodded and raced toward the monster. Leon holstered the Magnum and ran for the shipping container. Jill was right there. She was just…right there. And she didn't even hesitate. She dropped to one knee, cradled her hands, and Leon ran straight at her. He threw his boot into her hands, and she tossed her arms up to send him where he needed to be.
He hit the top of the metal, Jill ran back to the fight with the monster, and Leon tackled the first oil drum. He shoved it, grunting and sweating, and it went over onto the ground in a burst of slick wetness. The natural slope of the ground led it toward the fire. Leon shoved the next one with a shout of adrenaline and determination.
His biceps bunched, his legs pushed, and his body said: seriously? But it gave him everything it had. The second barrel burst like an exploded water balloon. The top blew off and shot oil everywhere.
Sherry screamed, "Leon!"
And the big nasty landed on the shipping container beside him. Leon staggered; he fell to one knee and saved him from decapitation. The big nasty punched him with its none clawed arm. It hit him full in the chest and knocked him into the rest of the barrels. They went overboard and hit the ground in a kaleidoscope of shimmering oil and noise.
Leon slid after them, and Jill caught him, tumbling to her butt on the slick ground. She jerked him with her as the big nasty rocketed off the container after them. Limping, Leon tried to curl around the pain in his chest. Jill grabbed his vest and threw him in front of her, and then? She turned back to face it.
He skidded; he almost fell as he reversed to join her.
Sherry shouted again and shot the big nasty twice in the face. Jake was M.I.A. And the big nasty? It had had enough playing around. It raced at them.
Jill tossed Leon her shotgun, ripped her knife from her ankle, and did the same. She raced at it. Like Athena, she sounded her battle cry as she went to war. She dropped as it swung at her, slid beautifully between its massive legs, and brought that knife up to slice it into ribbons as she went.
Leon fired on it with the shotgun until it ran dry, tossed it down, and dropped his knife into his hand. He took three running steps and bounded up a row of barrels. Without thinking, without stopping, he raced across the shipping container beside it and pushed off. Airborne, he landed on its back. Sherry shot it twice more in the face, and Jill drove her blade into its leg while it roared.
And Jake threw a flaming piece of something at the oil at its feet. Apparently, he'd been off making a torch.
Leon held on while it tossed him like a bull and sank his knife into its gaping mouth. It grabbed him and jerked him clear. Leon ripped the blade free as he went. It threw him.
It just...launched him.
He flew so far, so fast, Leon knew if he came down now, he was dead. He would break all the bones in his body. He was done for. He went over a makeshift wall constructed out of fencing and glue…
And down he came.
Dust and filth poofed around him as he hit a pile of old tarps and paint blankets. Ben grabbed him to pull him clear, and it was the third time the boy had saved his life. Clever fucking kid.
Helena shouted, "Leon! Get behind the wheel!"
And he looked to see her working on the backside of a gutted tourist bus. It was a carcass. It was in rough shape. But it would do the job.
Leon leaped behind the wheel. Apparently, she wanted the worst driver in the world to take down the big nasty. Ben stayed behind with her as Leon gunned the rickety engine, listened to it cough and wheeze…and catch. He threw the bus into drive and dropped the hammer on it. It chugged, clunked, and jumped forward, rocketing toward the makeshift wall. It exploded through with a symphony of noise. He aimed it at the big nasty.
It had Jill.
It had Jill in its claw.
Leon shouted, "You son of a bitch!"
And it saw him coming.
It…threw Jill at him like a grenade.
Leon pushed through the missing windshield of the bus as she flew. It was all slow motion again. It was minutes and hours and days. Leon slid over the hood of the bus and jumped.
The bus hit the big nasty. It barreled him down and pinned him to the steel container beyond. It went sideways and took down a row of barrels and boxes. And it caught fire.
It all happened in less than two seconds. And Leon caught Jill in mid-jump…like fucking Superman or something…and down they came. He twisted his body to take the hit as they landed… and they didn't land in a mess on the ground.
Because the skinny kid Jake caught them. He didn't even flinch. He just…caught two people from a kneeling position and set them down.
What the fuck kind of person could do that?!
Leon opened his mouth to find out...and the oil met the fire. The explosion was so loud it turned the world into a shotgun blast of sound. It was all fire, rain of debris, and ducking and running. They moved, they covered, they ran for it. Leon scooped Ben against his front as the series of explosions chased them toward the far side of the shipyard.
Sherry shouted to him as the radio tower came barreling down between them. "LEON! Simmons is in the Kwun-Long building over in Koocheng!"
"Sherry!" He shouted back to her, "Wait! Before you get there, I need you to –"
And the tower destroyed the world as it hit. It was all abolished in the fire now and wind. It raced and roared around them as they ran for it. The fire licked at their heels. It threw a cyclone of wind around them, filled with burning bits of destruction.
It threw a tongue of flame beside him, and Leon curled Ben away from it, throwing his back toward it. The fire caught his neck and felt like white-hot pain. Something popped and burped fire to his right, and he threw up an arm to block his face. Jill was there, blocking them both with her body.
They raced down the narrow path while it chased them, chased them, and nearly killed them. Helena kicked open the small door at the end of the alley, and they raced through.
She slammed the door shut, and the cool relief was almost startling.
They were in the open-air market.
Helena hunched down, hands on her knees, gasping. Jill stumbled and went to one knee. Leon staggered and set Ben down on a small market table. He grabbed the table in both hands and leaned over it while relearning how to breathe.
Ben made a sound of distress. "Leon…you're bleeding."
Oh, he had no doubt.
He'd just had the shit kicked out of him. Bleeding was the least of his worries. Leon shifted, feeling along his rib cage. He hissed when he reached his fourth intercostal space. Yep. Tender. Impossible to know for sure, but he was hoping not broken.
His other hand crept up his neck to touch the burn. It was pretty bad. It hurt like…well…fire in his blood. His fingers came back wet with blood.
Helena said softly, "Leon…."
And he turned his head toward her. She gestured with her head. He rolled his eyes to Jill. She was still on her knees. She was clutching her belly. And her hands? They were soaked in blood.
He wasn't even aware he was moving. He caught her as she tumbled back toward the ground. He spilled to one knee to hold on to her. He slid in her blood.
There was a huge, jagged piece of metal sticking out of her stomach. It was still smoking. She was gasping. She was bleeding too fast, too much.
It was mortal.
It was a mortal wound.
His mind said: you know she's dead. She's gone. Do it. Put her down, and don't let her turn.
His hand curled around the metal. Blood spilled from the corners of her mouth. Ben was sobbing. Helena was guarding them. The world…it stopped making sense. It didn't make sense. His training kicked in. It smashed down like doors to save him from the grief that ate around the edges of his mind and made him numb.
He jerked the metal-free in a burst of blood.
She screamed. She bowed. Ben ran forward to throw his hands over the wound. Leon dug in his vest and grabbed the hemostatic powder there. Jill couldn't even speak. She was bleeding too fast. She was bleeding too much.
His mind said: She's done, you fucking idiot. She's done. Let her go down.
His heart said: What happens to me if she dies?
And he knew that answer. His heart? It went with her.
Ben was crying so much he was hiccupping and snotting everywhere. Jill grabbed his face with one hand. She gasped, and she smiled. She whispered, "Stay quiet, Benny. Stay strong. Survive."
Jesus Christ.
Leon dumped the powder over her belly. She was shaking so badly. He could hardly hold her.
No…no. He was. He was shaking.
Jill rolled her head to him. She grabbed his vest to draw him down. He thought, madly: Don't.
Tears spilled shiny and slick down her cheeks. She said, "I waited my whole life for you, Leon Kennedy. Save him. Love him. Swear it."
He was shaking his head. It was continuous. It was denial. His hands kept slipping in her blood to compress her belly. It wasn't bleeding any more.
The hemostat? Or...maybe she didn't have any more blood to lose.
Someone was making a low sound of grief. He knew it was him. He couldn't breathe. Was it the smoke? Why couldn't he breathe? Because he was dying.
He was dying.
"Jill…" His voice broke, desperate now, "Don't leave me. I can't do this without you. Don't leave me."
She gasped; she jerked a little. And she whispered, "Swear it. Love him. Raise him. Keep him."
He pulled her into him, keening low and painful now. "…I swear it."
Her hands curled into his vest, and her body gasped. Leon whispered it now, as it broke him and spilled out of him like a prayer, "…please don't. Stay with me, Jill…I need you..."
But it didn't matter. It didn't. Because her hands slid off his vest, her body breathed a long breath…and Jill Valentine died in his arms.
And Leon Kennedy knelt in her blood...still holding on.
There's a silence that pervades after death. It fills up the heart like water in a cup. It shifts the world's dynamic until it feels like those left behind exist inside a bubble of grief and pain. Leon wasn't entirely sure he could draw a full breath.
He waited, watched, waited, watched, and her chest didn't rise again. He should check her pupils…he should check her pupils for fixation and dilation. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't. He couldn't do it.
Helena stepped forward and checked for a pulse. The sound of ragged weeping from Ben was loud. It was the only sound. And it was horrible. Helena met Leon's eyes and shook her head.
There was no crying for him. Why wasn't he crying? He was shaking. The grief… was bone-numbing. It was too far down, too far in for tears. He was just…empty.
He scooped her hair back from her face. His thumb traced her porcelain cheek. How could this be where she died? How could this be it? She'd fallen to her death and come back stronger, tougher, faster…
She'd fallen to her death…and come back.
"Oh god," He laid her flat on the ground. Covered in her blood, he started doing compressions on her chest. Helena tried to grab him.
"Leon…Leon…stop. Let her go. She's gone. Let her go."
Leon shook her off him. "Get your hands off me! Cover me. Watch Ben." He reached thirty and gave Jill two breaths. He started again.
"Leon…" She glanced at the boy. He was watching him so raptly.
"Helena," He kept counting, pressing on her chest…counting, "Either cycle in here and help me or shut the fuck up. She heals. She heals faster than normal. She heals. I need to keep her body alive so she can heal. Help me or shut the fuck up."
Helena shook her head. She'd never seen someone try so hard to bring someone back from the dead. It was insane. It was insane to stand here wasting time. It was…
Her eyes shifted to the pale, bloody corpse of Jill Valentine. Jill…who'd held her that morning while she'd cried. Jill…who'd always been so fucking nice, so supportive…Forgive yourself, Helena…it's time. Helena shook her head and took a step forward. She shoved Leon aside and started compressing that cold chest. "Move over. Stand guard. You'll weaken if we don't trade-off."
Ben had stopped crying. He was sitting in her blood and staring. He was sitting in her blood and waiting. He was sitting…in Jill's blood.
Leon picked him up. He carried him back and stood him up. "Ben…look at me."
Ben turned his eyes from her body. He turned them to Leon's face. Shock. It was all over the little boy now. It was all over him. Leon cupped his face with one bloody hand. "Look at me and listen. Focus on my face. I'm trying…." His voice broke and scared him. He couldn't do this. He couldn't break down and cry now. Not now. He'd never get back up.
Gathering his resolve, he tried again, "I'm trying to get her back. I'm trying. We're trying."
Ben was nodding, staring at his face now with glassy eyes.
Leon rubbed his arms briskly in the jacket he wore. "It might not work, Ben. It might not work. But I have to try. I have to try."
Ben kept nodding. He said, so softly, "I didn't keep my p'omise. I didn't p'otect her. I didn't keep my p'omise, Leon."
Leon shook his head, sharp and fast. "Don't give up. Not yet. Not yet." He pulled his sidearm and flipped it in his hand. He handed it hilt first to the little boy that watched him. "Now, you keep that promise, Ben. You protect her so I can save her. Protect us both."
Ben held his gaze, and the glassy edge in his eyes snapped back into focus. He grabbed the heavy Glock and nodded. He nodded. And he whispered, "I will be her hero now."
Leon kissed his forehead. "I know you will."
And that baby born in blood in Tall Oaks stood guard while Leon rushed back to Jill's body to keep compressing her chest. Helena rose to join Ben and watch the market for trouble. They'd been so goddamn lucky so far.
The market felt empty, looked empty, and the world was frozen while they worked on her. It wasn't long. It couldn't be long. It felt like a minute. It felt like a hundred years.
He kept pushing. He kept pushing on her. He kept going. In the fifth round, his body started shaking with effort. And he drew back from breathing into her mouth and said, "Come back to me, Jill. Come back. This isn't how you die. This can't be how you die. Bleeding out in some fucking dirty alley. Stupid. Stupid. Come back."
Helena shifted in, and Leon rose. He paced, shooting his hands back through his bloody hair. The ragged sound of breathing was so loud. It was so loud. Was it Ben?
No.
It was him.
This wasn't how it ended. How could this be how it ended? He'd been looking for her all his life. Was this how the world ended for him? Was it three goddamn days of happiness and then a lifetime of misery? How the hell was he supposed to keep going in a universe that spilled that kind of shit storm down on a man who'd spent most of his life fighting for justice for those who couldn't?
He felt the pain fracture. He felt it hurt in ways that he couldn't stop. He had to get away. He had to get away now. He was going to fall apart, and he couldn't…not in front of Ben. He couldn't.
"No."
He turned back and shoved Helena aside. He pressed on her chest, he breathed in her mouth, he pressed on her chest, he breathed in her mouth. And then? Well, he pulled her body up into his arms and rocked there in her blood.
And he shouted at her. "You have to get up, Jill! You have to get up now! I can't do this without you! I can't fucking do it. Do you hear me!? Get up, Jill!"
The world? It shifted again. It fractured and spilled and stole his breath. He made a sound that scared him, and he knew he was done. He was done. He was going to sob, break, and die in the blood beside her.
He was done.
And he whispered, so softly now, "You have to get up, Jill…you have to get up."
He pressed on her chest. He gave her air. He pressed on her chest. He gave her air. He whispered to her, "Get up, Jill. Get up."
He pressed on her chest. He gave her air. Ben whispered, "Wake up, Jill." And broke his fucking heart.
He pressed on her chest. He gave her air. He pressed on her chest. He gave her air. The air from his lungs sobbed out of him into her. He pressed on her chest. He gave her air. His arms were shaking.
He pulled her into his arms and rocked her in that blood. He rocked and shouted at her one more time, "Get the fuck up, Jill!"
He made some sound like he'd start sobbing. Oh god, he thought desperately, don't. If he started, he'd never stop. He'd wait to die here in the blood beside Jill Valentine. He'd just...give up. Jesus Christ. This is what loving somebody looked like. It looked like grief so wide and deep it was worse than anything you've ever felt before. It takes away the joy, laughter, and light and fills it with pain that never ends.
He didn't know how he'd be able to leave her there on the ground, like garbage, and get up. He didn't think he could. He didn't think he'd make it. He didn't think he'd survive it.
Ben pressed a kiss to Jill's forehead and nearly killed him where he worked, "Maybe she's like Snow White. Maybe she needs a kiss."
Jesus Christ. Helena breathed, "Leon...you need to stop. Please. You need to stop."
He didn't know-how. He shook his head, breathing raggedly, "Just watch the fucking market, Helena. Ok? Just watch it."
Quietly, she whispered, "...alright."
It was rage at the world that kept him going. The same rage that kept him alive when all else had failed. The same rage ran like lava in his veins now instead of blood. He pushed on her, blew in her mouth, and found the willpower to keep going.
For himself. For Ben. For her. She'd lain in his arms and offered back some kind of hope that had died in Tall Oaks with Adam. It was the hope that all of it, every moment, was for something that mattered. It had to matter. What they did, what they gave up, what they fought for...it had to count. Or what the hell were they fighting for!?
He shouted at her, almost desperately, "Wake up! Now! I know you can hear me! I know you can! Get up!"
Jesus, it was loud. If bad guys were waiting, they'd indeed find them now. Because the man called The Ghost? He was shouting at the top of his lungs in a dirty Chinese alley like a lunatic.
It was Ben that put a hand on his arm when it trembled. It was Ben that whispered, "...maybe kiss her, ok? Just kiss her."
Like the world was a fairy tale, he'd kiss her, and she'd just...wake up.
A sound broke out of Leon's mouth that scared him. It was something ugly. It was something horrible. What? A sob? It was bad. He shook his head and tugged her up into his arms. She flopped, like a doll, broken and limp. Leon turned his mouth to hers and pressed, so so soft. Her mouth was pale, and her skin was ashen, waxy, pale.
She was dead. He knew she was dead.
But he kissed her anyway.
Because the little boy beside him still had hope...even when there was no hope left for the rest of them.