Despite her stunning looks and figure, Helena is no mere trophy—she's a lightning-fast agent.
Whether it's hand-to-hand or firearms, she operates at elite-agent level; only her quick temper keeps her from perfect.
The group pressed on without meeting another survivor—everyone had apparently gone to ground; no one was stupid enough to step outside and spar with zombies.
Don't assume C-Virus zombies won't eat people; when they do, they leave not even a crumb.
Near the church, cars sat abandoned in the street, doors flung open—people had fled in such panic they'd forgotten to close them.
Some had been locked inside their vehicles, dying from airborne infection and then turning.
Surveying this living hell, Helena frowned. "Eddy, do you know who did this?"
Eddy shook his head. "No idea, but it's definitely linked to Simmons. He's been researching the virus privately. Like the modified T-Veronica and T-Abyss, it's airborne. Originally intended as a life-extender, it's now twisted into a bioweapon—ironic."
"You knew all this?" Helena asked, surprised.
"Of course. His family invited me to consult on the project; I just offered academic input. You'd never guess the Western Federation is run by a few old men chasing rational immortality so they can stay in power." Eddy sneered.
"What, you think I run human trials?" Eddy asked.
Helena nodded without lying. "Exactly—I did suspect."
"I use a different method. Human trials are the crudest. If you had any real biology background, you'd know what I mean." Eddy added.
"I believe you—not just because of my impression of you, but because I believe in Deborah!" Helena said firmly.
As they crossed the zombie-filled street, windows disgorged hordes that seemed to have ambushed them from the second, third, and fourth floors, leaping down.
Startled, Helena drew her gun and shot a zombie mid-drop.
But it was a drop in the bucket; wave after wave surged in, as though someone were directing them.
"Run!" Helena shouted.
"No rush. These zombies are nothing." Eddy lit a cigarette, so relaxed Helena wanted to scream—what timing for showing off?
Helena forced herself to stay calm; if she died, Eddy went down too. She waited to see what the man would do.
Jessica raised a manicured purple-nailed finger and snapped.
Within a hundred meters of her, every C-Virus zombie collapsed, brains pulped by an invisible Infrasonic Wave.
Ordinary zombies had no regeneration; even crimson-eyed variants died instantly, unable to survive the wide-area attack.
Helena stared, baffled. It looked like magic—was this a TV show? "What just happened?"
"You'll find out later. Let's go to the church." Eddy glanced at a text from Alex: President Benford had finally broken with Simmons—war was on.
That was why Eddy had to extract Benford: the man had principles Eddy could exploit.
Perfect for pitting against Simmons, and someone had to take responsibility for Tall Oaks.
As family head, Simmons's status and position made him the ideal scapegoat.
As said before, Simmons could only stay in power by proving useful; once worthless, the elders would discard him and pick another.
Those old fossils only cared for their own interests, not a loser's life or death.
Near the gas station a coach bus was blocked by a colossal fat man.
The obese giant resembled the Plaga-mutated behemoths seen in Kizuzu—bulk doubled, fat thick enough to deflect bullets, strength monstrous.
Zombies poured through the windows; screams erupted inside.
The entire bus became a feeding ground, the sound alone horrifying.
With a wave, Eddy compressed the magnetic field, sparking the fuel tank and igniting the bus into a burning cage.
Helena's heart sank—more survivors dead under zombie siege, worse even than Raccoon City.
"Don't mourn; nothing to mourn over. The more bodies you see, the number you'll grow numb. I only care about family—anyone else, I won't even look. Am I selfish?" Eddy exhaled smoke rings.
Helena turned, met his eyes, hugged him briefly, and smiled. "No, I believe in you. You're right. You're only human. As your woman, I feel safe—you're a family man."
"You understand me?" Eddy grinned mischievously.
Without you, we'd probably be framed for assassinating the president. Do you think I don't understand?" Helena said.
As an agent, Helena knew the drill—pin it on the Escort Team.
Simmons, Federation security adviser, outranked everyone; his resources could ruin ordinary people for life.
Chapter 611: There's a Rat—Terminate the Pregnancy
Past the bus-lined street lay dense forest, the notorious Dog Park—everything from Tibetan mastiffs to lapdogs.
Before the outbreak it had been a decent amusement park; now blood-smeared walls and eerie woods framed a scene straight from a horror film.
"Scared?" Eddy asked.
"No, just wondering how many bio-monsters are waiting inside." Helena replied—no point hiding her thoughts.
She wasn't fearless; she simply knew that with Eddy she'd stay alive—maybe at the cost of pregnancy, but staying alive was the best option.
"Doesn't matter how many; they're all low-grade. Gaseous C-Virus only spawns basic zombies. After Pupation they mutate into stronger bioweapons, but the low-level gas isn't hard to handle." Eddy explained.
He had reams of experimental C-Virus data, all brought by Carla—useful information.
At the very least it warned him which experiments would fail.
"Anyone who develops this stuff has to be evil." Helena frowned.
"Not necessarily—it depends on usage." Eddy shrug. By that logic, the inventor of the atomic bomb was a butcher? What about the inventor of the AK-47?
A weapon's use depends on the wielder.
Inside the park, packs of Zombie Dogs charged, faster than when alive.
Severely rotted, nauseating, fangs dripping with undigested chunks—human or animal, who knew?
Helena raised her pistol—bang, bang, bang—three running Zombie Dogs dropped, headless.
Only a top-tier agent could hit fast-moving targets, proving she was no mere decoration.
Eddy made his first move—seemingly doing nothing, letting the Zombie Dogs charge.
A meter away, a zombie dog leapt, gory fangs poised to rip his throat.