A Sickly Sweet Reverie (Leon Kennedy X OC) [BOOK 3]

Chapter 9: Graveyard shift

I wiped away the wet strands of hair clinging to my forehead, surveying the bus as we rocked downcthe city street. One of the men from the apartment had died–pulled right out the window along with a member of the rescue party. The rest of the group looked desolate, sat perched on the bus floor and the few remaining rows of seats, their eyes hollow and dark. Tiffany was in the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared down at her blood stained shoes.

A ringing had me turning toward Leon, who was near the front of the bus with Helena a few paces away. He pulled out his phone, answering it as I moved toward him. Hunnigan was on the other end, her face drawn tight as she took him in.

"What's the news?" Leon asked. She swallowed before answering.

"90% of the population of Tall Oaks is infected. That rounds out to nearly 70,000 people." Helena's breath hitched as Hunnigan paused for a second before continuing. "We also just received word that an organization named Neo Umbrella has taken credit for the attack."

A shudder snaked around my bones at the utterance of the name. Jesus, are they really back after all this time? Leon's eyes flicked to me before going back to Hunnigan.

"I've got a bad case of deja vu."

"I know...," she stared down at her keyboard for a moment before picking up her head and continuing. "Now it's your turn to help me. What is in that Cathedral?"

Leon and I both looked to Helena who seemed to be contemplating her answer. After a few seconds, Hunnigan went on.

"I've got suits breathing down my neck..."

"Suits?" Leon asked as my eyes dragged on something over Hunnigan's shoulder. The communications station she was located in was clearly a madhouse. People hustled by with taut expressions and arms filled with binders, but amongst the chaos I picked out a man in a light gray suit. Even from the grainy image on Leon's phone, the features struck me as familiar.

I recognized him but fuck what was his name? Simon? Smith? Samsung?

"Specifically Derek C. Simmons. National security advisor," Hunnigan replied, keeping her voice low like she didn't wish for him to come near. A lightbulb went off as she said his full name. I'd run into him a time or two while on BSAA work in D.C. Had to sit across from him for a little under an hour in a conference room, even then he had a weird presence about him, one that made me want to squirm in my seat.

He struck me as someone who was playing a game the rest of us were not aware of. Maybe that's his job, but it takes a certain man to play that role, the type of man whose name left a sour tinge on the tongue.

Hunnigan pressed further, "He's been on me since you reported your lead, can you just tell us something, anything?"

"Hang on," The driver said from his seat a few feet ahead. The paved city street had morphed into a dirt road that snaked along the edge of a steep hill. The bus was bouncing up and down, the rain making the tires slide on the muddy path. The headlights illuminated a zombie ahead, face covered in dark blood as it trudged into the bus's path. The bus pushed forward, humming loudly as the driver stepped on the gas to ram the figure.

"I wouldn't–," I started, but it was too late. We slammed into the figure at top speed.

The body was stuck to the grill, but quickly disappeared beneath the hood. The front tires began to emit a loud screech before the vehicle jolted, and shrieks sounded behind me as we were all thrown toward the wall as the bus spun outward. Leon grabbed hold of my wrist, yanking me toward him and away from the wall.

"Shit!" The driver yelled, a stream of blood now gushing from his forehead where he'd slammed it into the steering wheel. I tried to regain my footing as the metal below me groaned. Out the side window, all I could see was the blackened clouds ahead. A look over my shoulder confirmed my fear–We were dangling over the edge of a drop. Only the front set of tires was on the road, leaving the back half to hang over the valley.