Briskly Marco pivoted one-eighty when he heard the harrowing call from Claire. Just when he thought he had seen much unimaginable bizarre deformation of beings ever since a couple of hours ago, it could not get any more outwardly mutated creature than what he was seeing right now. This was the closest he had ever encountered. Regardless, of the insufficient lighting, he vividly perceived was once a person but was now a mixture of human and arthropod.
His body lurched backward in surprise response when he saw the insectlike chimera hanging on the top of the corridor concrete barrier. Once human, it grew another pair of hands; one between its left abdomen and the other on the shoulder. Its bones pierced out from its flesh enveloping its hands providing the creature with long sharp claws, it was white and chalky. Thankfully, it was not wings that poked out on its back. Instead, thorns tore out the orange shirt that grew along its spine. What more nightmarish sight was the intact face of Orange Shirt looking down at him with a menacing sneer infused with murderous intent.
Marco lost himself to paroxysms of shock and panic. His breathing was unchecked. Adrift and disarray. In a brief second, he lost grip of his HK-416. The soles of his boots screeched from the harsh contact with the dirt on the concrete floor of the corridor. His steps were short yet moving too fast that they caused him to lose his footing to the ground. The back of his leg collided with the stacking wardrobes as he clutched back the grip of his assault rifle. He emptied what was left in the magazines in a fusillade of gunshots. And none were hitting the target.
"Shit."
Then the creature jumped off the corridor concrete barrier and stabbed its sharp claws into the ceiling of the corridor, hanging high like an arachnids. The clamor stirred Mendoza who stituted opposite him. Mendoza had the same surprise reaction and was shooting in bursts when he saw the creature. However, his aim was too low. Instead of hitting the invading creature, the bullets struck on the makeshift barricade. Marco could hear the snapping sound of the bullets passing his ear. A couple of Mendoza shots missed Marco's head by a hair's breadth. For a moment, they became stormtroopers of Star Wars shooting bugs from Starship Troopers.
"Jesus Fuck!"
Marco let out a short scream of profanity expressing his startlement. Even so, his years of training kicked in and Marco recovered fast. Within a millisecond, his rifle was squirting fresh rounds from the new magazine he just installed. Orange Shirt deflected and hopped again, this time toward the makeshift barricade. He ducked unconsciously as if the creature was about to land on his head. He bolted away from the makeshift barricade and skidded across hitting the concrete barrier of the corridor. The rickety barricade wall came apart by the momentum of the creature's landing.
Claire pushed herself up and she felt a crushing pain seared through her right shoulder. She saw Taggert who fell a bit away from her was recovering from the sudden plunge and scrambled to a kneeling position. She felt a swift wind pass right above her as she was sprinkled with concrete bits. When she peered her head further up she saw the Orange Shirt right above her on the ceiling.
Instantly, she turned herself with her back on the concrete floor. She dug the heel of her boots to the floor finding tractions. At the same time, she skittered her upper abdomen working her way backward closer to where Taggert was. Her buttocks and lower back grazed harshly on the gritty concrete floor. It was definitely going to give her skin a burn due to the friction, but she could not care less. This was the exact exercise Chris made her do when he trained her for a self-defense routine in her teen years. It was a boot camp in honesty.
She did not understand back then why his brother was adamant about teaching her the military-esque exercise as part of a self-defense course. And now, she knew. She thumbed the magazine release in haste, while her left hand scoured the last magazine from her bulletproof vest. Her movement was fluid, she was proud of herself. She believed Chris would be proud of her too. If Chris witnessed what she was doing right, he would be flashing his cocky grin with the mouthing phrases -This is why I make you do it-.
Another same kind of creature hopped on the top of the corridor concrete barrier near Mendoza's position. Now, they had two ugly abominations that required handling from them. She was fighting with her thoughts whilst the monsteric brute was in front of her.
Tyrants?! From bites? No, it can't be!
"Anyone has any idea how many these things are?", asked Mendoza was about to welcome the new guest.
"Got two hanging just outside my window.", answered Ripley, his voice so calm it almost annoying to Marco because a minute ago he was losing his cool. Look like his teammates in GOLD were also dealing with the same type of creature.
"Got two at South corridor.", answered Marco trying to match Ripley's decorum.
Without moving his sight from the new arrival, Taggert marched toward the creature releasing continuous shots like he had a personal vendetta against it. Although, it was not a killing shot. Mostly the abdomen and the leg, immobilizing the creature. The grotesque being shrieked in pain. With a fixed target, Mendoza pulled the trigger several times just to make sure he did not miss the head.
"One at South corridor.", Mendoza corrected.
"Need to immobilize them first, then shoot them in the head. These fuckers jumped around.", explained Taggert.
At the same moment, Claire cocked the loaded firearm between her spread legs, delivering shots at the creature that perched on top of the rumble of once-wall. She missed the head. The pressure from the recoil hit her right shoulder, so she swapped her shooting using her left hand. Klicking shots erupted on the right by Marco who standing by the concrete barrier of the corridor next to her. Everything happened so quickly, Claire unaware Marco was already by her side. He got the creature only one of the clawed hands. It then jumped out to the corridor concrete barrier again and made a giant leap toward the central tower.
"What the-", muttered Claire inwardly as she stood following the sight of the creature.
"Oh shit!", cursed Marco.
"Surely that fucking thing ain't zombie!", said Hoffman sounding a bit excited through comms.
"Make sure to kill those fuckers that try to jump upward. Do not let them go through the atrium.", hollered Taggert.
"What in the atrium?", asked Claire clueless.
"I don't care what you need to do. Get their attention to you instead of them jumping up. Toss the grenade if you have to.", commanded Taggert through the radio. Simultaneously, he was assisting Mendoza in handling the sprinter zombies coming from the Southeast staircase. He was trying to keep the East barricade standing.
"An opening. How do you think we got in without the militia knowing.", answered Marco.
Marco rested his rifle aside and reached for his M67 grenade from one of the pouches in his plate carrier. He lobbed the explosive across the courtyard, in the direction of the central tower where Orange Shirt hung. Just midway when he was about to toss the grenade, he sensed a light nudge to his elbow. Accidentally, it was Claire doing when she swiveled facing West to gun down a couple of zombies who just passed the corner of the Southwest staircase.
"Frag out!"
Marco yelled signaling his deployment of the explosive. He jerked toward Claire and enwrapped her with his much larger body. They both crunched down and sheltered behind the concrete barrier of the corridor. Right then the grenade fell short and exploded in the air. Marco's warm breath blew on the side of her face. His pinched face was evidence that something was not going his way.
The propelling disruption of the grenade resulted in a reckless throw. The fragmentation of the grenade chucked randomly toward the corridor and the wall of the prison cell. The corridor clouded with dust. He let out a cough while back to his feet screening the central tower. He saw Orange Shirt clambered up, but the good news was it limping. The grenade was effective after all.
"What the fuck, Marco!? It's short."
Mendoza screamed at the same time giggling about his teammate miss calculation and throwing skills. Just now Mendoza nearly killed him with bullets, now in return his doing using shrapnel.
"Jesus Christ.", said Taggert and continued with a query. "THREE, status?"
"I've one dead, another moving to your position. Long Hair."
"THREE. Need help from you to make sure the West corridor is clear. We don't have West barricade anymore."
"Copy. I have clearance except until right behind SILVER."
"Roger that. Anybody see Long Hair?", asked Taggert.
"FIVE here, I lost it by the East corridor. I'm screening again.", replied Hoffman.
Claire backed the corridor concrete barrier, hugging her handgun to the chest. Her breath was erratic and her ears were ringing. If it pinged, it was an understatement. The sound of the explosion was horrendously loud. It felt like when your head was directly under those ringing giant church bells. The sound could blast the inner part of your eardrum. When she was busy accustomed to the after-effects of the explosion, Marco was already on his feet to lobe a second grenade.
"TWO. Get that ugly thing to you. Don't let it get up SILVER.", said Taggert. Eying the Orange shirt fidgeting at the central tower, confused from the blast of the grenade.
"Frag out!"
She was getting ready to back on her feet when Marco enveloped her again crouching down behind the corridor concrete barrier. The second grenade made contact with the wall of the central tower. Just above Orange Shirt. Dust plumed, bits and pieces of brick and concrete façade projected toward them. The already dimmed light of the South corridor was now more fogged up with smoke and debris.
Marco raised from their cowered position, coughing out the polluted air. He frantically pulled his rifle and periodically looked through the scope to get a clear view of the obstructed sight. His face got gritty dirt that was caked with his sweat. It was grime and slimey. He swiped his scruffy chin with the back of his gloved hand.
"THREE. FIVE. See any?"
"Negative."
"Fuck!" Marco screamed in frustration.
Claire was fighting the stinging sensation that blurring her vision. The dust got into her eyes. She squinted to alleviate the pain as a streak of tears rolled down to her cheek it got mixed with her sweat. She did not know how Marco was so unbothered by the increased amount of dust. He recovered so quickly. Claire's guess was Marco became desensitized to what happening to his surroundings since he was so deadly focused on the current task at hand. He noticed Taggert was the same too, and so did the other soldier. Catching her breath as she swiped the sweat that was sitting on her chin.
As the dust started to clear, it came to the realization that when she was being watched from across the corridor. It was Long Hair. Her mouth went dry, like the arid desert baking under the scorching sun. The small hairs on her arms horripilated and her whole face felt icy cold. Oblivious Marco was zoned out under the night vision goggles looking for Orange Shirt. She drew her handgun to have her shot. She thought she was moving fast, but the creature was much faster. Long Hair swiped its extended arm back and forth, like a person using a scythe to mow the grass. Only Taggert managed to escape the attack unscathed.
It got Marco sent flying to the prison cell wall. Simultaneously knocking Mendoza in the process, to the East barricade. On the other hand, Claire slid harshly into the ruble of the West barricade. A whamming sound could be heard when her back hit hard on the metal wardrobe. Her left hand grip felt empty, she lost the only weapon she had. The situation became dire as she fell to a defenseless stance.
Long Hair was not done with Claire. Its feet left the ground and sprung up in the air. She quickly rolled under the bed frame nearby taking her refuge. Its evocative moves reminded her of the sense of fear when she was being stalked by the Tyrant back in Raccoon City. A blood-curdling moment that gritted her heart like the chilling cold biting the bones. The sinister-looking creature alighted on her previous lying spot the second ago, with its clawed hand sinking to the ground where her head was been. In the fleeting moment, it was conspicuous that the creature hunted to end her.
Oh God...
The base of the bed frame crackled under the weight of Long Hair when it landed. The creature gazed straight into Claire's eyes. It was dark and red. The inside of her empty stomach churned, she felt like vomiting. She was trapped. Claire's eyes went wide when she recognized the creature's contorted face. The Long Hair was the Elder. The tribal hat. The hat was gone and the hair was uncovered. That was the cause of her failure to identify who Long Hair was.
His mouth opened inhumanly wide, brandishing its razor teeth. Somehow, it looked like it was smiling. It raised its only clawed hand, bringing it down to stab Claire between the gap of the bed frame. Claire jolted her knee up just enough to shackle the bed frame. Not enough to overturn her ratty shield but sufficient to sway its aim. His clawed hand missed her head and sank to the floor next to her. When another hand made the same attempts, she played the same trick as before. She needed to locate her gun.
Marco's body was slammed to the wall, hitting the tatty hanging lamp. Dust was dancing in the air as his body fell face down to the concrete floor of the corridor with a loud thud. He groaned to dull pain in his chest. He sucked a deep breath but ended-up wheezing due to the powdered air mixture of fine sand, concrete bits, and chalky dirt. The back of his neck felt wet and warm. It was not his precipitation. It had volume and was sluggish. It trickled down to the base of his neck. A piece of the glass lamp must have nicked his neck.
Sweet mother of God that hurt.
He pushed himself off the ground in a hurry when he got a glimpse of Claire. The creature wreaked havoc with the intention of slaughtering her. She was under one of the bed frames. Trapped with her handgun deserted somewhere near her leg. Kneeling on one knee, he leveled the barrel of his HK-416 and the red dot could be seen clearly on the marauding creature. He regulated his breathing and indiscriminately pulled the trigger. Concurrently, his shots were joined by Taggert and Mendoza.
At the corner of Claire's eyes, she saw Taggert striding out in her direction. He had his rifle lined up toward the creature that was above her. His shots landed at every single red dot that Claire saw on the creature's body. A mist of blood came spurting from its clawed hand and the abdomen. Pressing her lips together, she was huffing his breath through her nose trying to make sense of what going on. In her mind she not gonna be showered by fucking zombie blood. She shimmied further inside the bed frame and tried to make herself small.
Long Hair's attention was shifted to Taggert, who stuck out the most since he the only one was standing. The other two soldiers were already on alert, ready to join their team leader for retaliation. Long Hair stood upright, with bloodied torso and mangled hands. It let out a roar as its intimidation stunt. It then leaped to mid-air ready to make a last frontal attack. Alas, the three soldiers were unruffled and played out their ruthless execution. Their shots erupted. Acute and steady. Long Hair plummeted kissing the concrete floor right next to Claire was lying. She met its eyes which were wide open hauntingly still gazing at her, with redolent subjucation of ghastly horror.