The ceiling lights flickered erratically.
Sickly yellow current buzzed through them, making the dark-red pools of blood on the floor appear and vanish by turns.
Rain blew in through shattered windows and soaked the burgundy velvet carpet.
Rebecca Chambers held a Beretta M92FS in both hands, her back pressed hard against a leather seat.
Her chest heaved with rapid breaths.
Not far from her boots lay two shriveled bodies in train-crew uniforms, both skulls blown open by gunfire.
Her eyes tracked over the sights and locked on the far end of the aisle.
At the opposite end of the car, a tall man in a prison uniform leaned against the bar with one wrist still handcuffed.
He held a stolen handgun, and the two of them remained trapped in a brittle standoff.
“I said don’t move.” Rebecca clenched her teeth, the muzzle shifting between them.
Billy Coen gave a cold laugh and opened his mouth to answer.
SKREEE—BANG!
The pneumatic doors screamed as metal twisted.
Two heavy steel panels were pried apart by enormous hands in black tactical gloves, sparks jumping from the broken hinges.
Heavy combat boots crunched across shattered glass as a huge black shape squeezed into the narrow aisle.
Leon casually leaned the Doorstop beside the doorway.
There was nowhere near enough room in the aisle to swing it properly.
He wore the homemade heavy bomb suit, its thick black steel plates cold beneath the dim red emergency lights.
The 25 KG sprayed across his chest only made the figure look less human.
The sealed iron helmet was locked tightly into the neck armor.
No light showed through the narrow slit, and his heavy huff-huff breathing echoed through the quiet carriage from behind layers of metal.
Rebecca sucked in a breath and instinctively swung her pistol toward the new black-armored giant.
“Stay back!
Hands up, now!” Her voice trembled, both hands gripping the pistol so hard her knuckles went white.
Billy froze at the other end as well.
Brow furrowed, he tightened his grip on his weapon and watched Leon and Rebecca with equal suspicion.
Through the narrow viewing slit, Leon swept the entire car at a glance.
Dead train employees on the floor.
A small young woman aiming a pistol.
A man in prison stripes and handcuffs.
These are Captain Wesker’s “extremist terrorists”?
Leon wondered.
They’ve clearly fried their brains on drugs.
They’re having an internal shootout on a train, one of them is dressed like a hospital inmate, and those dogs outside were probably another disgusting stunt from these junkies.
During those few seconds of stalemate—two bodies that had been “sleeping” over tables in the middle of the carriage suddenly moved.
Three staggering zombies abandoned Rebecca in the corner without hesitation.
One dragged half its intestines outside its body; all three opened mouths caked with dried black blood and lunged, snarling, toward the largest target in the car: Leon.
Rebecca was terrified of the armored giant, but police instinct still overrode fear.
Seeing the living dead close in on him, she shouted, “Watch out!
They’re monsters!
Shoot them in the head!” Leon made no move for a gun.
He heard the warning through the thick helmet and almost found it funny.
Monsters?
They’re drugged-up lunatics who’ve burned out their pain response.
Good enough to scare a little rookie, I guess.
As the three zombies charged, Leon planted his feet slightly apart on the bloodstained carpet and did not move.
The lead zombie’s claws nearly reached his chest plate.
Leon dropped his center of gravity and drew his thick right arm, wrapped in black steel plate, backward.
Then he threw a straight punch with no technique worth naming—just absolute force.
BANG—CRACK!
The steel fist smashed into the zombie’s face.
Rotten bone caved inward with a muffled crunch, and the tremendous impact snapped its neck backward.
The stinking body flew off its feet.
CRASH!
It slammed into the reinforced side window hard enough to explode the glass into fragments.
The ruined corpse sailed through the opening and vanished into the storm-dark night.
The other two zombies tripped over the one he’d launched and fell, scrabbling on hands and knees through the broken glass.
Leon leisurely drew back his fist and looked down.
Sticky bone fragments and black blood coated the steel glove.
He flicked his hand, scattering the filth onto the carpet.
“Decent strength,” came his muffled, unconcerned voice from beneath the helmet.
“Shame about the bone density.” Rebecca stared from the gaping hole in the window to the armored man.
Her pistol slowly lowered.
In the brief silence, something sounded overhead.
SKRREE—CLANG!
The metal roof shrieked through a chain of tearing impacts.
A large rain shield was violently peeled back.
Lightning flashed through the opening.
Something enormous dropped through with a flood of rain and crashed onto the bar in the center of the carriage, splintering the solid-wood counter under its weight.
It was a giant scorpion nearly three meters long, its dark-gray carapace covered in barbs that flashed coldly beneath the intermittent emergency lights.
Billy, standing on the opposite side of the aisle, was directly in its path.
He raised his handgun at once, aimed at the mouthparts covering its head, and fired repeatedly.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Muzzle flashes strobed as brass-jacketed rounds struck the scorpion’s facial armor.
Useless.
The bullets only sparked weakly against the dark-gray shell before ricocheting away.
The giant scorpion shrieked and swept its huge right pincer sideways.
It was too fast.
Billy had no time to evade.
Squelch—with a deep crushing sound, the enormous pincer clamped around his abdomen.
Billy’s eyes flew wide.
Blood burst from his mouth and his handgun dropped to the floor as the scorpion casually flung its claw aside.
His body smashed into a table in the corner, twisted, and went still.
Rebecca collapsed onto the floor at the sight.
Her pistol slipped from her fingers and landed on the carpet.
She gasped for air, kicking helplessly at the floor as she tried to crawl backward.
After discarding Billy’s body, the scorpion turned its head and raised its thick stinger high over Rebecca.
The instant the tail started down, heavy footsteps thundered closer.
Leon stepped in, planted his right boot, and reached back with one hand for the Doorstop leaning beside the door.
No stance, no windup.
As the stinger plunged toward him, Leon bent his knees and drove the massive black slab upward from below.
CLANG—BOOM!
The heavy steel struck the scorpion squarely in its side armor.
A broad section of shell cracked and collapsed.
Thick yellow fluid erupted in every direction as the blow lifted half the creature off the floor and tore a scream from it.
Leon stepped in with the recoil, locked both hands around the grip, and raised the greatsword high overhead.
Then he brought the Doorstop straight down.
SPLAT—BOOM!
The black-steel greatsword crushed the scorpion’s front half.
Its mouthpart-covered head and a chunk of its torso flattened into a pool of yellow slurry mixed with shattered shell.
The blow punched through the train’s wooden floor and lodged the front of the weapon against a steel beam below.
The entire car rocked.
Only the rear half of the giant creature remained, twitching on the floor.
Leon let one hand go, braced the sword against the floor, straightened, and looked at the yellow mess beneath him.
He shook his helmeted head.
His left hand found the clasp beneath the chin.
Click.
He pulled off the heavy iron helmet and set it on the intact half of a nearby table.
The metallic thud made Rebecca flinch.
With the armor gone from his head, a young face appeared.
His neatly parted fringe was damp with sweat and stuck to his temples.
Handsome, sharply defined features and an unexpectedly clean-cut look clashed violently with the hulking armor beneath them.
Leon looked down at Rebecca.
His gaze paused for a second on the green S.T.A.R.S.
patch on her left shoulder.
He extended a hand still smeared with mud and grime.
“Leon.
I’m the new guy reporting in.” His tone was casual.
“These terrorists have disgusting taste.
Giant bugs as pets?
You hurt, medic?” Rain ran down his sharply defined jaw and struck the black chest plate.
Rebecca stared up at his face in a daze.
She stiffly turned her head toward the slab of black steel buried through the floor, then toward the yellow pulp surrounding it.
Still breathing hard, lips trembling, she looked from the outstretched hand to Leon’s face and back again without managing an answer.