"You're right, but more than anything it's instinct—my gut tells me something's wrong with this school. With so many people here for graduation today, we'll head to the roof; it'll be easier to get support from up there." Eddie gazed at the high tower above.
Roar! A savage, inhuman cry rang out, mixed with screams.
Students who hadn't turned were pinned and bitten to death by zombified alumni—nature-documentary footage of how Bear Grylls might dine.
"We have to help them!" Zoey gasped, almost pleading.
"Only save others when your own life's secure. You're still too green. If you rush in and get surrounded by a hundred zombies, guess the ending—you die too. Your job is to stay alive, not play hero. Pocket your kindness until you're certain you're safe." Eddie began lecturing the pretty young rookie.
Zoey felt wronged. "You're so cold-blooded!"
Mia couldn't stay quiet. "It's not cold blood, it's the smart call. Eddie's right—we act within our limits."
Unlike Zoey, who'd never seen a plane drift across campus, Mia was a seasoned soul who'd watched a train blow a tire; she knew the ways of the world.
Rescue only works when you're strong enough; dying in vain because you couldn't save anyone is the real tragedy.
Zoey bit her lip, still upset. "I get it."
Eddie patted her head gently. "You'll understand later—I'll give you a lesson that'll stick. For now we reach that tall building and wait for the Helicopter pickup."
"What if The Feds decide to scrub the place with missiles? We'd never get out," Mia asked abruptly—wild talk, except that's exactly how The Feds operate.
Raccoon City outbreak? Missile scrub.
Tall Oaks outbreak? Missile scrub.
Those two were famous; smaller towns number at least four or five more.
Eddie chuckled. "Because Simmons is out. Working security, all he ever suggests is missile scrub—the talentless hack."
"You really know him." Mia's bright laughter rang like silver bells.
"I know you too. How about a drink when we've got time?" Eddie invited.
Mia was surprised—surrounded by zombies and still getting hit on. "If we live, of course we'll toast our escape!"
Chapter 621: I'll Carry You and Run
Bang! Eddie's pistol blew away a leaping zombie. "Move. Nothing to gawk at. Zoey, can you shoot?"
"A little." She nodded, then received a neat handgun—light, low recoil.
It was the Blacktail, a pistol designed for women—Ada's signature weapon.
After her evolution, Aunt Wang could lift fifty tons one-handed; the Blacktail no longer suited her. A ladies' pistol didn't fit her stature now.
Still, as her trademark, Ada had upgraded the Blacktail all the same.
The piece Zoey held was only an imitation—not everyone can wear Pinru's clothes.
Bang! Her test shot proved the gun superbly user-friendly; even a novice like her could pop a zombie's skull without jarring her arm. A great weapon.
"Got a gun, Mia?" Eddie asked, turning—standing rather close.
"I do. Don't worry, I can—ah!" She stumbled mid-sentence, nearly falling.
Eddie caught her in time. "Careful—that's how you get hurt. Watch your step. You okay?"
Mia clutched her foot. "Think I twisted it. Go on, don't wait—zombies are closing in."
"I'd never abandon a smart, beautiful woman. Feel guilty? Then marry me—ha! Kidding—hop on, I'll carry you!" Eddie crouched, offering his back.
Mia bit her lip. She hadn't done it on purpose—she'd really twisted her ankle while fleeing in a panic. This wasn't Terragrigia; there was no large group to lean on, and the mental pressure felt nothing like before.
"I'll slow you down. Just go," Mia sighed.
"Less talking, no time to explain—get in!" Eddie hauled her over his shoulder and sprinted.
Zombies closed in. Zoe ran and fired, though her aim was awful—not that she could be blamed; she was just a college student.
Not every student was a badass like Claire, who could fly planes, drive trains, and double as a walking arsenal, whipping out a Gatling to rattle off a barrage when you least expected it.
"Thanks." Mia was moved; only a true friend would lend a hand at a moment like this.
Mia was no naïve girl—she'd worked for years, seen plenty of back-stabbing, even husbands and wives turning on each other when the zombies hit.
Eddie's help truly touched her. The man seemed unreliable, yet proved steady when it counted—maybe that's what a real man was.
"No need for thanks—just promise yourself to me." Eddie laughed, kicking an incoming zombie and sending it flying.
Jessica, Lisa, and Hilda, the three female bodyguards, began to hold back; they knew exactly what their man was up to, keeping tension high while he made his move.
It's easy to move a woman—creatures of emotion, they only need the right moment and gesture for their impression to flip completely.
Mia's cheeks flushed; this time she offered no retort—clearly her opinion had shifted.
Zoe felt a twinge of jealousy; she might not be stunning, but she had her own gentle charm—don't overlook it!
The group fought a steady retreat, a pack of skin-sloughing zombies trailing them, reeking of rot.
Under the virus's influence their muscle tissue was dead, yet they were puppeteered toward prey to spread the infection.
"Help! Help us!" Several young men ran over, iron bars in hand.
Bang-bang-bang! Zoe dropped the chasing zombies with three quick shots, while Jessica—wearing high-heeled combat boots—kicked a stone that shot like a bullet and punched through a snarling zombie's skull.
"Thanks, classmate! Where are you heading? Zombies are everywhere," the lead black student panted.
"Rooftop to wait for rescue. Stay put if you've got nowhere to go—this place is crawling." Jiang Yifu pushed through the door and started up the stairwell.
"We could take the elevator—it's faster!" a white student pressed the button. This wasn't a fire; what could go wrong? Elevators don't just fail.
Ding. The lift arrived. The doors slid open and a swarm of zombies burst out; inside, blood and severed limbs painted the walls—some poor soul had become lunch.
"Aah—help!" The student who'd pressed the button was tackled. Zombies tore into him, quickly submerging his body under a writhing pile.
His scream cut short as his throat was ripped out; he died in agony, devoured alive.
Proof that when there's a bio-crisis, never ride the elevator—stairs are far safer.
Hearing the screams behind them, Eddie shook his head. "Trust between people keeps shrinking. Told you—stairs are the safest bet."
"Why?" Mia lay across his back, feeling like a girlfriend out shopping with her boyfriend.
"Your average undergrad hates stairs—why walk when there's an elevator? Even as zombies they keep a sliver of that habit. Plus stairs are tricky; they'll realize it and only wander up now and then," Eddie explained.
Just then several zombies shambled down the steps above. Spotting prey, they sprinted—faster than normal undead, showing why C-Virus zombies are so terrifying.