Chapter 3

Sheva was breathing restlessly as she stood beside her latest kill.

It had come close to digging its claws into her a moment ago, however she managed to end the abomination with a proper placement of shots to the putrid thing's face and head.

Carver approached, kicking the thing. "Not bad, Alamor." He smirked. Then the nerves caused the body's limb to jerk ever so slightly. "It is dead, right?"

"I believe so."

"Just to be safe." Carver pressed the barrel of his MG5 between the reptile jaw, Carver blasted it for a few seconds. No movement. At that Carver smiled, pleased with the result. "In the words of Carl Panzram, it ain't getting any deader."

"Oh, for Christ's sake…" one of Carver's squadmates in Echo-Six groaned.

It was a win-win. They confirmed it was dead, and the one obsessed with shooting was able to let off some more steam. Stump, watching with Nadia, was suppressing the urge to laugh. Forge was reloading his assault rifle.

Chris and Jill were relieved that none of their people were seriously injured. Leon was ready to move forward; loading a new mag into his Diplomat.

These Talon bastards aren't playing around.

Chris would say they had underestimated the capability of their mysterious enemy, but that would overstate the obvious.

Regardless, they were oscar-mike. With Jill contacting Overwatch to inform them of the development. Useless though they were likely to be—regs were still regs.

For the life of him, Rabbit with his tilted head could not understand what he was seeing.

A zombie…tied to a chair…a zombie…tied to a chair…a zombie tied to a chair…a zombie…tied to a chair…a zombie tied to a chair…a zombie…tied to a chair…a zombie tied to a chair…a zombie…tied to a chair…a zombie tied to a chair…a zombie…tied to a chair…a zombie tied to a chair…a zombie…tied to a chair…a zombie tied to a chair…a zombie…tied to a chair…a zombie tied to a chair…a zombie…tied to a chair…a zombie tied to a chair…

Did not compute.

Jerking his head side-to-side, all he could think was fuck it. Looking as best he could downward toward the nearby door and saw no trip wire. "Well, at least there's one less problem to be concerned with."

"What is it?" Angela asked as he approached the door.

Pushing it open, Rabbit answered "You'll need to see for yourself to believe it."

See it, Angela was just as flabbergasted as Rabbit. Upon seeing it, Bain said "I see why you were having that reaction. That's uh…that's something."

"No shit." Rabbit frowned grimly as he stepped inward. Holding up his M4A1 as he scanned the room, with only the ghastly groans and other unpleasant sounds of the zombie to be heard as he did so. Passing the zombie which snapped at him in a manner akin to a rabid dog which had been starved, with its maw unable to touch him by an inch.

There was a laptop not far from the restrained zombie, but he ignored it. Neither was of relevance at the time, so he left it be. Leaving that for later.


Locus' scope observed the trio entering the boathouse with Ocelot at his side.

"Wolf Pack, how are the ducklings?" Joker came through.

"Locus' itching to start shooting."

Locus said nothing, continuing focus on the boathouse with the targets now inside. He could not have agreed more though. Eager to fell them with a headshot. The only thing staying his hand was the punitive measures he would certainly face at the hands of their team leader.

They were not the same Wolf Pack of yore—who had undertaken missions in the chaos of Raccoon City's hellish biohazard. Their name was taken as a mocking reference to the second delta squad; with the only commonality between themselves and the original was their name and skillset. It was there the similarity ended.

"Try to hold yourself a bit longer. Once Paxton goes in, be ready."

"Roger."

Ocelot remained silent, but agonized over this waiting game. It was tedious.

They had other troubles to contend with, making this an unnecessary antic. Those two women who escaped them a few days back, and that one lucky bastard to survive their ambushing the initial attempt to resolve the biohazard.

So this was not at the top of their priority, it was merely what they were being forced to do by the higher ups in the pecking order.


The building was clean as far as Rabbit could tell. The boats were still present, along with the carcasses of those who he presumed were the owners. One a man, and the other a woman. No evidence of anything untoward having been done to the woman—her clothes had some tears, however this seemed more of a result from an encounter with either the infected or one of the militant elements that resulted in her being executed with a gunshot at close range to the forehead. Same as the male.

Their bodies were unarmed, implying that they were either stripped of their weapons after they were killed or were slain in the beginning stages of the biohazard. The former seemed most probable.

He doubted it was done in the chaos of the biohazard. There were a number of cases where such an outcome was likely to end this way, but it was the orderliness of which did not make Rabbit confident in thinking other denizens or civilians did this. In those cases when normal citizens turn on each other there was evidence of sexual assault or multiple gunshots.

Rabbit knew this because he had put down a number of rabid dogs masquerading as human beings for such actions. Much to his personal pleasure—as such scum had no claim to the right to live another day after committing such heinous actions.

The boats were unaccounted for much like any possible weapons the pair could have been using. With the port of the building being vesselless, though Rabbit questioned by someone would take them.

If it was to escape this hellish place they more than likely did not get far. Even if Talon did not take them out, that leviathan B.O.W. that was roaming the nearby body of water was likely to obstruct their success—either being swallowed whole like Jonah by the whale (without the happy ending) or its body thrashing causing them to be killed or thrown overboard. The latter would be even worse as some reports suggested there was also a category or sea monster akin to piranhas who were likely to chew them to bits until they bled to death.

A rather unpleasant way to go, in either scenario.

Looking back to the crimson pool, he noticed some boot prints. Those that resembled a military or paramilitary breed. But custom ones with nothing to indicate anything he could work with.

Once his search of the premises in general and examination of the scene of execution was complete, Rabbit returned to Angela and Bain. The latter tinkering with the laptop. Pressing on the buttons with a quick succession of clicks, looking through the few pieces of data present to be accessed.

"Find anything?" Angela asked him as she saw him turning the corner back to them.

Rabbit nodded in a negatory. "Nothing pleasant, or useful."

Bain scoured the laptop some more, finding something interesting. It caused him to look back at the zombie in the chair, then glance back to compute. Saying aloud "Interesting…very interesting."

"What is it?"

"Look at this." Bain beckoned them to join him at the computer, which they did quickly.

Treating them to an image upon the computer screen which was actually a video which was yet to play. It showed a man tied to the chair—it was their zombie friend, before his taste in food was drastically altered—bruised and battered.

Play was pressed.

An individual, attired similarly to the ones Rabbit had seen chasing after Claire and Rebecca in the recording sent by Talon, approached the man and slapped him upside the head. "Read it! Now!"

"Okay! Okay!" the man said, skittishly. Looking at the words prepared for him, being held up behind the camera. "To the BSAA and DSO dogs that find me, your failures have come home to roost. The consequences of your inability to preserve the human race shall now be for all to bear witness. This is the beginning."

The man was then injected with something. Swiftly transitioning into a zombie at a faster pace than what was the norm. Screaming in horror as his snetience was to gradually die.

"Son of a bitch." Rabbit looked at the zombie more pitingly.

He brought his rifle up, pressing the suppressor barrel of the rifle against the man's forehead. "Sorry, friend." For a moment pausing as he looked at those eyes devoid of life, wanting only to tear into others with teeth as if it was a wendigo. Seeing the face of James Walker, the faces of many. His breath grew more deep before he forced himself to at last pull the trigger. "Sorry," he whispered once more.

"Well that was sad." they suddenly heard Joker.

Not through the communication line this time. But on the computer.

Bain began messing with the laptop, trying to see if he could implement it in an effort to trace the psycho back to wherever perch he was tauntingly throwing stones at them. "Afraid that won't do you much good, Bainy-boy." Joker knew what he was up to and was quick to mock his pointless effort.

Nevertheless, Bain tried.

"Well now that you're here, we can begin." Joker chortled. "Look out the window."

Perplexed, Rabbit did just that reluctantly. Moving slowly before protruding out the window to see another unusual sight: a man with an arrogant smirk and a cadre of Lickers around him approaching.

"Have fun." Joker said.

"Shit."

"What is it?" Angela joined him. "Oh, crap."

Why does this…

It reminded Rabbit of a mission report Kennedy had given after returning from a op that took him to Holigrad at the heart of the Eastern Slav Republic. A plaga was used by the revolutionary Alexander Kozachenko to similarly control some Lickers against Tyrant-13.

Was this it?

Then the flash which was recognizable as the sun reflecting on the lens of a scope on the nearby roof in the city. "Shit!" He turned to Angela and brought them both to the ground. "Get down!"


Leon came upon the town square with Chris at his side.

It was an unpleasant sight. Bodies, so many—a multitude of them—lain out on the pavement with gunshots in the pack of their heads. Men, women, and children alike. The holes dug into the back of their gourds providing demarcation from the ones who were obvious zombies to be put down.

Various scenes had played out on the sight.

That was clear.

"Jesus." Leon muttered to himself.

"No kidding."

Suddenly a noise from the nearby alley caught their attention, a pack of Cerberi emerging to bolt for them like the hellhounds that they were. The two men opened fire, as did their conpatriots—dropping the first batch of the mutts—before more followed.

Seeing the next wave coming toward them, both Chris and Leon muttered sarcastically "Great."


Landing on the ground, seeing Rabbit stubble-covered visage, Angela looked to the window, seeing bullet fly through the shattered window

Bain returned fire with his own rifle.

His counter fire did not hit anyone, but his intention still was successful: to get the gunmen off his (temporary) battle-brothers' backs.

Pulling themselves up, Rabbit was narrowly impaled by the pointed tongue of a Licker who sent it lunging at him. Fortunately it missed. Slaying the Licker with a barrage of bullets as it jumped through the window—causing it to crash into the dead zombie zip cuffed to the chair.

It did not frighten Rabbit much, fighting those monsters. Damien Walker, the kid who lost everything was for a time; but the one known as Rabbit struggled to feel that anymore in the present. Little more than the adrenaline rush of battle was what he registered the experience of tese days.

Angela fired with her MP5K, causing the Lickers to scramble for cover.

"Been waitin' a long time for this!" the man was heard yelling estatically. "How about you?! Are you ready to party!?"

"Keep yapping, ass hole." Rabbit whispered, watching Angela pull herself back behind cover. Pressing on his communication device. "Come on, come on. Pick up, Ingrid."

After a few beeps, Hunnigan at last answered. "Yes, Rabbit?"

"Hunnigan, patch me through to Kennedy."

"It was a trap, wasn't it?"

"Ingrid!"

"Right, right. I'm patching it through now."

Rabbit was treated to the audio from Leon's end, registering the sound of gunfire. Even with the suppressor on his fellow DSO agent's weapon it could be heard ever so slightly—just enough to know he was firing upon something. He could hear the non-suppressed gunfire of the BSAA soldiers' assault rifles and shotguns raging in the background as well.

"What is it, Rabbit?"

"Hey, Kennedy, you remember the plaga your rusky friend had? The one that allowed him to command B.O.W.s."

"Ukranian. What about him?"

"We ran into one just like him. Does the plaga still work if you take out the host?"

"I would assume the answer is no."

"Finally something useful." Rabbit hung up with that.

Bringing up the scope view onto his M4A1, he took aim for the stranger. Firing once into the head believing that would be all which would be required. It usually was. However the man staggered back a step, before returning to his standing.

"That's it?" he sneered. "I've been stung by bees with more oomph."

Okay then.

Turning his rifle to full auto, Rabbit opened fire again. Having more success, emptying a full mag into the body, at last dropping him. With that taken care of and the Lickers now in disorder, Rabbit pulled out a smoke grenade and tossed it.

"We need to move," he told them. "Now!"

Just praying that the smoke would be enough of a boon for them to dodge a few bullets.


Leon fired upon the packs of cerberi and their splinted heads as they continued to advance on them. Not giving them the chance to reach close proximity. After what happened to that other Damien guy he knew it would be bad for one of them to get close.

His own past with fighting the monstrocities wrought by Umbrella's experiments and combating their ignoble legacy in the aftermath of Raccoon City had given him the skills to make this an easy task.

Likely Claire was having the same advantage. Hopefully.

He was no Devil Dog but he and their military force were good enough. Firing, dropping the pseudo-hellhounds alongside Chris. Dropping the abominations against the natural order in spades.

The last being felled by Jill's MP5A3.

With that resolved, Leon activated his communication link. "Rabbit! Come in, Rabbit. What's happening?"

"A little busy right now, blondie. Hang on."

Then Leon heard a gunshot and Rabbit's swearing.