Most of the terminal's automatic sprinkler system had already failed. Only a few surviving heads kept spraying thin, useless mist, trying in vain to cut through the heat wave that could scorch a man's lungs.
"Cough, cough... Everyone okay?"
Leon pushed himself up from the pile of shattered sofas, coughing as he pulled a shaken Ashley behind him. His tailored suit was caked in dust, and his previously immaculate hair had collapsed into a mess. He looked like a laborer who'd just crawled out of a mine shaft.
"Grrrhhh...!!"
The twisted remnants of the cabin door were kicked clear with an ear-splitting screech of metal. Through the thick smoke, the first batch of "airline passengers" finally revealed themselves.
A cluster of zombies in flight attendant uniforms and casual clothes, skin an unnatural ashen gray, pupils unfocused and threaded with dark red capillaries. They staggered out, each step leaving a bloody print on the floor.
Leon's expression sharpened. Professional instinct had him drawing the sidearm from his hip in a single motion.
"Don't use the gun!"
Ryan's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an authority that brooked no argument. He reached out and pressed down on Leon's wrist. "Smell the air. Aviation fuel is leaking everywhere. One shot from you and none of us needs to wait to mutate. We go straight to cremation."
Leon sniffed the pungent fuel in the air. His face shifted, and he reluctantly slid his finger off the trigger.
"Looks like I'm stretching my legs again."
"No need for that." Ryan glanced sideways at the two girls flanking Ashley. "Sherry, Becky, go try it out. Keep it quiet. Don't get the stink all over you. We're going shopping later."
"Got it."
Two crisp replies.
The next second, Leon only felt two fast-moving blurs streak past him.
Too fast.
Even to a top-tier agent like Leon, the explosive speed the two girls displayed now had clearly passed beyond human limits.
Sherry's figure moved like a butterfly through flowers. One light step across the scattered debris and she vanished from her original spot. When she reappeared, she was already at the side of a zombie. A Star Fire custom tactical combat knife was gripped reverse in her right hand, tracing a dark arc through the firelight.
Thunk!
No wasted motion. Sherry's enhanced nerve reflexes let her pinpoint the gap in the creature's cervical vertebrae within one second of it raising its arm. The blade went through bone as smoothly as cutting butter.
Then, using the momentum, Sherry spun on her left hand braced against the floor, her long leg carving a half-circle through the air and slamming into another zombie's jaw.
With a sharp crack, the thing's entire head snapped back at an impossible angle and was kicked deep into the fuselage.
On the other side, Becky's approach was steadier. She held the only passage leading to Ashley, gripping just half a length of aluminum guardrail she'd picked up from the wreckage.
Every time a zombie lunged at her, she calmly took half a step forward. The rail in her hand, driven by an extremely contained force, struck with a sharp crack against a knee or a skull.
The movements didn't look heavy, but the creatures she hit came apart in bone and flesh without exception.
"So this is... Star Fire's research output?" Leon watched the two girls, who hadn't been anywhere near this strong back in Spain, now cutting down monsters like street cleaners. His eyes were complicated. "Enhancement serums... Luis actually developed something like this."
"It's just the baseline version. Don't look so shocked." Ryan watched at ease, and even had the leisure to glance at the black coffee still in his hand. Unfortunately, a layer of dust had already settled on the surface. "Though honestly, WilPharma's products are disappointing garbage. How many years has it been since the t-Virus broke out, and there hasn't been a single evolution. It's a disgrace to the bioengineering world."
Just then, urgent shouting came from the other side of the hall.
"Sherry?! Is that you?"
Claire was pushing aside the debris in her path, leading a little girl by the hand. Behind her trailed a greasy-looking man with a Mediterranean haircut who was wheezing for breath: Federal Senator Ron Davis. Claire stared in shock at the figure dancing through the horde. In her memory, Sherry was still that trembling little girl back in Raccoon City, the one who needed Claire to hold her hand tight.
But now, that girl was casually flicking the filth from her blade, her expression so coldly composed that Claire barely recognized her.
"Claire! Get down!"
The instant Sherry's voice dropped, Ryan moved.
His motion was more economical than the two girls', and more brutal.
An enormous zombie was leaping from the shadows behind Claire. Ryan didn't even turn his head. He just plucked a boarding sign that had blown in from somewhere out of the wreckage.
The sign read: [Welcome to Harvardville].
Ryan flicked his wrist in a backhand throw. The kinetic energy detonating through the muscles of his forearm sent a visible ripple through the air.
Whoosh!!
The aluminum sign turned into a streak of light, cutting precisely into the giant zombie's throat. Without losing momentum, it carried the four-hundred-pound body back and pinned it dead against the stone column behind.
The sign quivered there, that welcoming slogan rendered absurd against a backdrop of blood.
"Welcome my ass."
Ryan dusted off his hands, walked over to Claire, and held one out to her. "Long time no see, Claire. Looks like your sense of justice has led you into another dead end."
Claire stared blankly at the zombie pinned to the column, then back at Ryan's face, still composed with a hint of amusement. She let out a wry laugh. "Ryan... I should've known. Any place you show up, things never stay ordinary."
"Small talk's over." Jill had already moved to Ryan's side, her tactical tablet displaying a cluster of signals closing in fast. "The military's on its way. Local police are about to lock down the airport. Ryan, how do we play this?"
Ryan glanced at the wreckage littering the floor, then at the monsters still pouring out of the cabin door in an unbroken stream. A dangerous curve lifted the corner of his mouth.
"Since the airport's already this wrecked, I'll do them a favor and take it over. Leon, get your credentials ready. Your vacation may be ruined, but I promise, someone's going to pay generously for the overtime you're about to put in."
He turned, surveying the devastated terminal, and a glint flashed in his eyes.
"Since we bumped into it, Star Fire will accept this little care package face to face."
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