The atmosphere inside the car was tense as Alpha Team made their way toward Raccoon City. The eerie quiet on the road was almost suffocating, broken only by the occasional thrum of the engine. Williams was driving, his focus entirely on the desolate road ahead, while Lester sat in the passenger seat, lost in thought.
Lester finally broke the silence, glancing over at Williams. "Why do you think BSAA chose us for this mission? Why our team, and not another one?"
Williams grunted, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. "Been wondering the same thing, Captain."
From the backseat, Jason and Ali chimed in with similar curiosity. "Yeah," Jason said, leaning forward slightly, "why us? Out of all the teams, why are we the ones heading into Raccoon City to deal with this Nemesis thing?"
Frederick nodded, arms crossed, his expression thoughtful. "We've all heard the stories. Raccoon City's like walking into hell. Why send Alpha?"
Lester sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't have the full answer," he admitted, his voice steady but thoughtful. "But what I do know is that if they selected us, it means we're capable. They trust that we can handle this, get the intel on whatever's happening with this virus, and clean out the police station from the zombies. The Nemesis from 1998 was one of the most dangerous bioweapons ever created—if there's something like it loose, we need to find out."
Before Lester could finish his thought, a deafening roar of metal against metal rang out from behind them. In an instant, the team's vehicle lurched forward, thrown off balance as a massive truck smashed into them from the rear. The force of the impact sent their car skidding off the road, tires screeching as they struggled to regain control.
Williams shouted, trying desperately to steer them back on course, but it was too late. The vehicle spun out of control, veering off the road and crashing violently into the side of a tree. Metal crunched, and glass shattered as the car came to a bone-jarring halt.
Lester's vision blurred from the impact, his ears ringing as he tried to gather his bearings. The world spun for a moment before he realized what had just happened. He looked over to Williams, who was groaning, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead.
"Is everyone alright?" Lester called out, his voice hoarse.
In the backseat, Jason, Frederick, and Ali were shaken but conscious, groaning as they untangled themselves from the wreckage. Jason winced, clutching his arm, but gave a thumbs up. "Still here, Captain."
Lester's pulse raced. Something had deliberately crashed into them—this wasn't an accident. "Get ready," he ordered, reaching for his rifle. "We're not alone out here."
As the team stumbled out of the wrecked car, weapons drawn, the eerie silence of the road was replaced by something far more sinister. The night wasn't going to let them reach Raccoon City so easily.
Lester's eyes darted toward the wreckage of the truck, his breath catching in his throat as the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed in the night. But these weren't just ordinary footsteps—there was a heaviness to them, unnatural and deliberate.
Emerging from the twisted metal was a group of grotesque, mutated creatures. They weren't like the zombies they had expected—these were far more coordinated and, terrifyingly, armed. Each of them carried weapons—AK-47s, SMGs, and rifles—clearly ready to engage. Their bodies were distorted, with pale skin stretched tight over bulging muscles, and their eyes gleamed with a strange intelligence.
Lester swallowed hard, his mind racing. These creatures weren't just infected—they were something worse. "Take positions, now!" he barked, his voice sharp with urgency.
"Williams, get your sniper and take the high ground!" Lester ordered, his hand motioning toward a nearby rocky outcrop. "We need a vantage point!"
Williams nodded, immediately grabbing his sniper rifle. He sprinted toward the higher ground, moving with the precision of a seasoned marksman.
"Frederick, you're with Williams. Provide cover and help him get through the zombies!" Lester continued, his eyes scanning the area for any additional threats. Frederick didn't hesitate, following Williams with his rifle at the ready, clearing a path for the sniper to set up his position.
Lester turned to Ali next, his voice firm but calm. "Ali, you watch the right side. I'll be backing you up."
Ali, steady under pressure, gave a quick nod and took position, scanning the dark landscape for any movement on their flank.
Lester took a deep breath, raising his weapon as he moved to cover the right side of the team. His pulse pounded in his ears as he watched the creatures approach, their eyes locked on the Alpha Team. He knew they had to act fast and decisively—there was no room for hesitation.
From his position, Williams finally got set up with his sniper rifle. His calm voice crackled through the team's comms. "In position, Captain. Ready to take the shot."
Lester steadied his own rifle and spoke into the comms. "Fire at will. Take them down before they get too close!"
The night exploded into chaos. Williams' sniper rifle rang out, the crack of each shot echoing through the air as he picked off one of the creatures from a distance. The precision shot sent the infected soldier crumpling to the ground, its weapon clattering uselessly beside it. Frederick provided suppressive fire, ensuring Williams had the cover he needed.
Meanwhile, Ali held his ground on the right side, letting out controlled bursts of fire with his assault rifle, keeping the creatures at bay. His eyes flicked toward Lester for support, and together they unleashed a barrage of gunfire, thinning the ranks of the approaching monstrosities.
Lester's heart pounded as more of the mutated attackers closed in, but Alpha Team held their ground. The battle was fierce, but Lester's tactical orders kept the team focused, working as a unit.
Amidst the hail of bullets and snarling creatures, Lester's mind remained clear. They had a mission, and they weren't going to let these abominations stop them from reaching Raccoon City.
But as more of the creatures fell, something in the distance caught Lester's eye—another truck, its lights barely visible through the darkness, barreling down the road towards them.
"More incoming!" Lester shouted, gripping his rifle tightly.
The night was torn apart by the sudden barrage of gunfire. The zombies—once mindless, shambling horrors—were now something more terrifying. They weren't just attacking—they were shooting. The rattle of AK-47s and SMGs filled the air, and Alpha Team found themselves under heavy fire.
"Take cover!" Lester shouted over the comms, his voice cutting through the chaos.
The team quickly fell back into defensive positions. Frederick and Williams found cover behind a cluster of rocks, while Ali ducked behind a large tree stump, keeping the right flank secure. Lester crouched low, his eyes scanning the area for any weak spots in their defense. His heart raced, but his focus was razor-sharp.
The situation was far worse than they had anticipated. These creatures weren't just infected—they were organized, tactical, and relentless. Lester felt a strange, creeping unease, the kind he had felt earlier, but now it was stronger. These weren't the mindless zombies from horror stories—these were something far more dangerous. Yet, despite the terror creeping up his spine, he fired without hesitation.
Rounds from his rifle tore through the air, hitting the targets dead-on. Every time a zombie fell, its weapon clattering uselessly to the ground, another stepped forward to take its place. They kept coming, relentless, like soldiers who knew no fear of death.
Lester's finger squeezed the trigger again, but just as he pulled the shot, his father's words echoed in his mind. "Do what you have to, son. But keep your humanity. Don't lose it."
For a moment, the world around him faded—the gunfire, the shouting, the chaos. All he could think about was his father. Chris had survived horrors of his own, faced monsters like these, maybe even worse. Was his father okay? What had he meant by "It was hard for me at the start"? The thought gnawed at Lester, even in the midst of battle. Had his father faced something like this? Did Chris Redfield ever hesitate to pull the trigger, or had he learned to harden himself completely?
Lester shook off the thoughts. He couldn't afford to hesitate. Not now. Not when his team was counting on him to lead. His father's fate, his cryptic words—it would have to wait.
A burst of gunfire jolted him back to the present as a hail of bullets whizzed past his head, narrowly missing him. Lester gritted his teeth and focused. The zombies weren't letting up, and neither could he. He had to fight. He had to lead.
"Williams, we need that sniper support now!" Lester called out, hearing Williams' voice crackle back through the comms.
"On it, Captain! Taking the shot!"
A distant rifle shot rang out, and one of the lead zombies dropped, its weapon tumbling from its hand as it collapsed in a heap. Williams was working fast, picking off the more dangerous targets with precision.
Lester glanced over at Ali, who was holding the right flank steady, picking off zombies with quick, efficient bursts. Frederick was by Williams, providing cover as more zombies pushed forward.
For now, they were holding their ground. But the onslaught wasn't slowing down.
Lester took a deep breath, focusing on the battle in front of him, but in the back of his mind, the image of his father lingered. Is he okay? He would find out soon enough. But first, they had to survive this nightmare.