I went down into the basement, the wooden stairs cold beneath my boots. My hands found the crate, the one nobody but me had touched. I popped it open and started grabbing weapons—M16, Glock, a double-barrel, a few spare mags. I had hidden from some of them.
The light behind me shifted. I didn't turn around.
"Wesker, what are you doing?" Carley's voice, a little breathless.
"Like you said," I replied, pulling a mag and checking the rounds. "Trying to be human."
Click.
The magazine slid back into place.
"You're not thinking of going out there alone, are you?" Lilly asked, stepping in front of me as I turned.
Carley didn't say anything at first. Her eyes darted between us, her mouth twitching, remembering the argument we had three days ago. She looked like she wanted to scream. Instead, she just closed her fists so tightly her knuckles went white.
"I need you both here," I said. "We don't know how many are out there. If something happens to me, someone has to protect this place."
"You don't even know where they went," Carley said finally. "You're just going to walk into the woods and hope for a trail?"
"Better than waiting until they come back to finish what they started."
Silence. Even the house above us felt like it had stopped breathing.
Lilly's hand pressed onto her chest, as if her heart had suddenly kicked back into life,
"I'm coming with you," she said.
I turned sharply, "Didn't you hear what I said? I need—"
"I did. And I don't care." She moved past me, grabbed a rifle resting fro the table. "If you're going, I'm going."
For a moment, we stared at each other. I, in frustration and anger, and she, in her determination and resolve.
The cries of Duck from upstairs reached our ears, wet with pain. I looked toward the ceiling.
Carley moved, her voice unsure now. "Are both of you going out there? What am I supposed to—"
"Keep everyone safe," I said without looking at her. "You're the best shot here."
That quieted her. Not because it was flattery, but because it was true.
***
When we returned upstairs, all eyes were on us.
Clementine sat beside Katjaa, helping hold bloodied cloth to Duck's leg while Katjaa worked, her hands coated in crimson. Kenny stood over them, sweat shining on his brow, the rifle we found in the motel hanging over his shoulder like dead weight.
Alicia and Madison were still alert for the first time in days. Pale, shaken, like people walking from a sleep.
I set the rifles down on the table one at a time.
"Take one," I said. "All of you."
Madison stepped forward. Her hand didn't even tremble when she grabbed the nearest one.
Kenny didn't move—he already had his. He was focused on Duck, breathing through gritted teeth.
Calrey moved quickly, grabbing hers. "You're really doing this," she muttered under her breath, almost to herself.
Clementine looked at the guns, her face tense, uncertain.
"You're not ready," I told her gently. "I'll teach you when I return."
She nodded. No argument, just trust reflected in her face.
Alicia's eyes flickered toward me. Her gaze questioned. "Where did you get these?" She asked
"Later," I said.
***
When Lilly and I stepped off the porch, the sun was already bleeding red, down past the western hills. Long shadows painted the ground like unfurled fingers, and the fence creaked in the soft wind. Bad time to go out. That's what they would think.
We followed the faint trail of broken branches and snapped grass westward, away from the fields, into the trees.
In the first few minutes, we had tracked the blood of the one I shot in the leg, but after five minutes, we found him dead, his corpse resting against the tree. And the trail ended.
Lilly walked close beside me, rifle slung across her chest, boots silent on the dirt, her eyes darting to every falling leaf.
"Are you sure this is the right direction?" she asked after twenty minutes.
"The shots, and that corpse point this way."
"They could've gone any direction."
"Which direction then?" I said, without breaking stride.
She didn't argue again. But I knew the truth—they had gone west. Where else would they go, if not 'home'
***
The sky dimmed to indigo blue, and the trees thinned out just enough for us to spot it—A concrete block of a building, wrapped in rusted signage, weather-worn advertisements peeling off like shed skin. The large barricaded store sat nestled behind an overgrown parking lot. Tents were propped up behind the loading docks. Plywood, barbed wire, stacked carts—a makeshift fortress.
I crouched behind a rusted-out sedan and scanned the lot.
Ten bodies. Some on the roof. Some patrolling. lingering around the entrance or guarding the stockroom. They were armed, yes. But their stances were wrong. Feet are too close together. Fingers are too tight on the trigger. Jittery.
"Jesus," Lilly whispered beside me. "How many are there?"
Six on the outside, there could be more inside. I need to be careful, I glanced at Lilly, at least for her
"Too many to take on in a straight fight." I checked the sight on her rifle, then met her eyes. "You'll stay here. Cover me."
"No, you—"
"You're more useful here." I didn't wait for her to argue again. I pressed her shoulder down gently. "Clean shots. Prioritize anyone who flanks me. And if I fall, run without looking back."
Her lips parted, but she said nothing. Just nodded once.
I turned toward the building and moved, approaching the store low, silently. The sentry at the back, leaning against the wall with a cigarette, never saw me coming. A hand over his mouth. A knife through his throat, the blood welled in my hands, as I lowered him gently.
x1[Human killed] 1 point added
I slipped through a broken window on the side, landing inside what used to be a cold produce aisle. The air reeked of mildew and sweat.
Two men stood in the next row, arguing, "We shouldn't have retreated," the one on the right said, "If we didn't, we would've been dead, we don't know how many there are," the other replied.
"What happened to those psycho's that were living there?"
Before they could wonder further, the first one died with a knife in its neck, the second, with a snapped neck.
They dropped like trash bags, limp and forgotten, I checked my [Tactical Map] seeing the layout of the store in it, since I upgraded it, now I can see the interior off a building I'm in.
I moved deeper. My breathing slowed. My pulse narrowed. The world around me sharpened. Every breath, every step, every heartbeat came deliberately and precisely.
I rounded another corner of an aisle and met two more. One raised his shotgun. Too slow.
I buried my knee into his ribs, snapping bones. I spun and slammed him into a wall, and fired at the second point black. The exit wound painted the shelf behind him.
Someone screamed from inside, as the sentries outside turned their attention to the store, away from the trees and hills, away from Lilly.
Now they knew.
Footsteps pounded the floor. Doors burst open.
Bang!
****
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