The Armor Key turned smoothly in the iron door at the end of the west wing corridor.
Damp night air hit them the moment they stepped onto the mansion's outer balcony. Clouds smothered the moon. The only light came from the stone floor itself, a pale, dead sheen on wet rock. Beyond the railing, nothing but black gorge and howling wind. The atmosphere pressed down like a hand over the mouth.
"This route bypasses the dead ends in the corridor, but we're exposed out here." Jill's grip tightened on the shotgun, her footsteps barely audible. "Stay sharp."
Ryan nodded, his right hand resting on the pistol at his hip. He'd already figured out the gun's little secret. Bullets that never ran out.
At least I can stop counting rounds like a miser.
They moved forward. The darkness coiled around them, tension winding tighter with every step.
Then it snapped.
Savage snarling ripped through the silence. Three zombie dogs vaulted over the railing, all matted fur and rigid, wrong-looking limbs. Fangs bared, they launched straight for the throat.
"Contact!" Jill barked, swinging the shotgun up.
Ryan was already firing.
The first few shots were rough. His wrist wobbled, rounds punching into flanks and shoulders instead of anything vital. But with each squeeze of the trigger, the shake steadied. His hands found the rhythm. Not marksman-grade, not even close, but controlled enough to hold a line and keep the pressure on.
He poured fire into the lead dog without a thought for conservation, round after round hammering into it until the thing staggered mid-lunge.
Jill seized the opening.
The shotgun roared.
The blast launched the dog off its feet and into the wall with a wet crack.
The remaining two split apart, flanking left and right. Claws scraped stone with a sound like nails on glass.
Ryan planted his feet and kept shooting. His aim was settling now, each burst a little tighter than the last. He couldn't land kill shots, but he could pin the creatures in place, buying Jill the seconds she needed.
She dodged a lunge, pivoted, and fired point-blank.
The last dog hit the ground and didn't get up.
Silence reclaimed the balcony.
Jill caught her breath, studying him. Approval had crept into her expression, but something else sat behind it. A quiet question.
She remembered how many rounds she'd given him. That sustained burst should have burned through the supply twice over. More noticeable was the way his shooting had tightened in real time. Not exceptional, but the improvement was genuine and fast.
"You're steady," she said. "Getting better with every fight."
Ryan holstered the pistol, keeping his voice even. "Helps having you on my six. A few more rounds and the muscle memory kicks in."
The steadiness comes from practice. The ammo comes from something else entirely.
His X-ray vision flickered. At the far end of the balcony, tucked deep in the shadows, a figure was huddled against the wall.
"Someone's there," he said quietly.
They advanced with weapons raised. A thin sliver of moonlight broke through the clouds and caught the person's face.
Blonde hair. Small frame. S.T.A.R.S. uniform. Tear tracks cutting through grime, eyes wide with terror.
Jill's breath caught. "Rebecca?!"
The girl's head snapped up. The instant she saw Jill, every wall she'd been holding together collapsed at once. Tears spilled over.
"Jill... I thought I was the only one left..."
Rebecca Chambers. S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team's rookie medic.
Ryan stood to the side, expression calm. With her appearance, the story was moving toward its core.
Jill rushed forward and steadied the girl by the shoulders. "You're safe now. We're here. Tell me what happened."
Rebecca was shaking. What she said next landed like a stone in both their stomachs.
"I escaped from the underground medical room. There's a giant snake down there. Richard... it got him. He's badly hurt."
She swallowed hard.
"I found documents too. This mansion is a secret Umbrella research facility. Every monster we've encountered... they made all of them."
Wind swept across the balcony, bone-deep cold.
Ryan's hand tightened around his gun. The mansion's mask had been torn clean off. Experiments. Monsters. The virus. The puppet masters. Every scattered thread was weaving together now, and the plot was accelerating.
Jill's face hardened. Umbrella. Bioweapon research. B.O.W.s. Those words lined up in a row that would shake anyone.
"Richard's still in the medical room?" she pressed.
Rebecca nodded, voice breaking. "The snake bit his leg. It's swollen bad. I couldn't go back in there alone, so I ran to find help. The snake... it's still down there. I was terrified it would follow me."
"We go now," Ryan said. "Every minute we wait, Richard gets worse."
Jill made the call without hesitation. "Agreed. Rebecca, stay between us. Don't leave our sight. Ryan, you take point. I'll cover the rear."
As they moved toward the objective, Jill dropped her voice low enough that only Ryan could hear.
"I watched you fire a lot of rounds back there. The ammo I gave you shouldn't have lasted that long. How did you..."
Ryan didn't blink. He'd been ready for this. "Picked up a box of rounds in one of the first-floor rooms earlier. Didn't get a chance to mention it."
Jill paused, then nodded. Ammunition was scattered all over the mansion. The explanation tracked perfectly.
"Makes sense. Good thing you're stocked up. Your aim's getting solid too. Should make things easier from here."
Stocked up doesn't begin to cover it. Try bottomless. But I can't exactly tell you that.
The three of them adjusted formation and slipped back inside through a door on the far side of the balcony, heading for the underground medical room.
The corridors smelled worse than before. Blood hung thick in the air. Claw marks gouged the walls alongside dried smears of red. Something had been through here, more than one something. Ryan kept his X-ray vision active, scanning every corner before they reached it.
Less than thirty seconds in, two zombies appeared at the end of the hall, swaying in that slow, lethal shuffle.
He raised the pistol and fired. The motion was smoother now, muscle memory building with each encounter. Rounds struck chest and neck. Not all headshots, but enough to drop both targets clean.
His shooting was still ordinary by any trained standard. Steadier, though. More confident. No panic.
Jill watched from behind, and her trust in him notched up again. This kid who'd appeared out of nowhere was calm, reliable, and improving at a pace that felt earned rather than suspicious.
They descended. The stairwell air turned cold and damp, lights buzzing and flickering overhead, each step feeling like it teetered on the edge of something worse.
Rebecca stayed close behind them, whispering something that made them both listen harder. "The documents mentioned another facility beneath the mansion. Deeper underground. There are worse things down there. Test subjects. The codename was something about... a Tyrant."
Jill stopped mid-step. "Tyrant?"
"I'm not sure of the details." Rebecca shook her head. "The files were incomplete. But whatever it is, it's a combat-type B.O.W. Engineered on purpose."
A cold weight settled in Ryan's chest.
The Tyrant. Almost time.
Zombie dogs, then a giant snake, and now a purpose-built killing machine. This mansion really doesn't want anyone walking out alive.
A wave of stench rolled up from below. Thick, organic, rotten. The kind of smell that coated the back of the throat and wouldn't leave.
The giant snake.
"Hold up." Ryan kept his voice low. "It's close. Right below us."
Jill raised the shotgun, every line of her body drawn tight. "Ready? The real fight starts now."
Ryan drew the pistol. Dim light slid along the barrel.
Infinite ammo. That was enough.
"Let's go."
The door to the underground medical room waited just ahead.
=-=-=-=
Note: 50 p.s for extra chap