Lester's team was pinned down, gunfire erupting all around them. Every time they tried to advance or reposition, more zombies—armed and relentless—poured in. The creatures weren't just attacking; they were strategically pressing Alpha Team from all sides. Bullets tore through the air, ricocheting off the rocks and trees that provided the only cover.
Jason was hit in the leg, blood staining his pants as he gritted his teeth and returned fire. Frederick had taken a grazing shot to the arm, but he was still firing with one hand, trying to fend off the oncoming horde. Even Williams, from his sniper perch, had been forced to duck behind cover as the relentless creatures turned their weapons toward him.
"We're getting slaughtered out here!" Ali shouted, his voice hoarse as he unloaded another clip into the advancing zombies. "We need to move, Captain!"
Suddenly, Ray's voice crackled into their earpieces. "Alpha Team, what's the delay? You're behind schedule."
Lester's frustration boiled over. "Delay? We're under fire, Ray! These things are smarter than we thought! We need backup, now!"
There was a pause on the other end before Ray's voice came back, calm but concerned. "Hold on. Let me get a look."
Lester, ducking behind a broken-down car for cover, kept firing as he listened to Ray. The tension in his voice was clear. "Hurry up."
After a few tense moments, Ray's voice returned, this time more serious. "I've got a visual. Those zombies—they're not ordinary. They're similar to the J'avo, a strain of infected that retains some intelligence. You need to be very careful—they can mutate when they're close to death."
"Mutate?" Frederick called out over the gunfire. "What do you mean, mutate?"
Ray's voice was steady but urgent. "When critically injured, they undergo a transformation. They'll turn into something even worse—think of a cross between a bee and a large insect, but with half-human features. They'll be faster, deadlier, and nearly impossible to kill."
Lester clenched his jaw, scanning the battlefield. "Great, just what we needed."
Ray continued, "You'll need to hit them hard and fast. If they start mutating, you won't have time to stop them before they overwhelm you. Take them out before they can change."
"Understood," Lester growled. His mind raced. These weren't just zombies—they were more dangerous than he'd imagined. If they mutated into something stronger, the team wouldn't stand a chance.
Lester peeked out from his cover and saw the telltale signs of one of the creatures beginning to twitch, its body contorting in unnatural ways as it neared death. The skin on its arms began to split, revealing sickening insect-like limbs underneath. They were running out of time.
"Williams, take the shot! Don't let them change!" Lester yelled, his voice filled with urgency.
From his vantage point, Williams took aim and fired, his sniper rifle cracking through the air. The bullet hit the mutating creature square in the head, dropping it instantly before it could fully transform.
"Nice shot!" Ali shouted, continuing to fire at the approaching zombies.
Lester wiped the sweat from his brow, his heart pounding in his chest. "Keep it up! Take them out before they can mutate! And watch your six—these things won't give up easily."
Despite the chaos, Lester's mind was sharp. He knew they were fighting against time as much as the undead. They had to end this quickly before the battlefield turned into a nightmare of mutated horrors. But even as they fought, one thought lingered at the back of Lester's mind: If these creatures are mutating, what else are we going to face in Raccoon City?
Lester's breath was ragged as he ducked behind cover, reloading his rifle. The team was holding their ground, but just barely. Every second felt like a lifetime as the J'avo-like zombies pressed harder, inching closer with every burst of gunfire.
"Ray!" Lester shouted into his comms. "We need support, now! We can't hold this position much longer!"
Ray's voice came back, calm but strained. "Alpha Team, you need to hold your positions for just ten more minutes. We've got air support incoming to bomb the J'avo, but you need to stay put until then."
"Ten minutes?" Lester's heart pounded in frustration. "Ray, we won't last five at this rate! We're sitting ducks out here!"
"I'm doing what I can, Captain," Ray replied, his voice clipped. "Hold the line. That's an order."
Lester swore under his breath, glaring out at the advancing enemy. "Damn J'avo… we're not going to make it!"
Suddenly, just as Lester was about to give another command, a gunshot cracked through the air. But this one wasn't from his team or the zombies—it came from behind. Lester tensed, spinning around, fearing they were being flanked. Another shot rang out, and then another, and in the confusion, one of the leading J'avo dropped to the ground, its head exploding in a spray of blood.
Lester's heart skipped a beat as he saw three figures positioned on a nearby rooftop, their rifles aimed at the J'avo. Snipers.
For a split second, fear surged through him. Who were they? More enemies? He braced himself for the worst, but then he noticed—these snipers weren't firing at his team. They were taking down the J'avo one by one, supporting Alpha Team with deadly precision.
"They're… they're helping us," Lester murmured in disbelief.
"Snipers! We've got backup!" Frederick shouted, catching sight of them too, his relief palpable.
Lester exhaled, feeling a surge of hope. Whoever these snipers were, they had come at the perfect moment. The tide of the battle was beginning to turn.
"Stay sharp, team!" Lester ordered, his confidence returning. "We've still got to hold until air support arrives, but we've got backup now. Let's finish this!"
With the unexpected reinforcements picking off J'avo from a distance, Lester and his team pressed forward with renewed energy, firing on the remaining zombies with everything they had.
For the first time since the ambush, Lester allowed himself a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could survive this after all.
The battlefield had descended into chaos. Despite the arrival of the three snipers providing cover, the relentless waves of J'avo were unyielding, pushing Lester and his team to the brink. For what felt like an eternity, gunfire echoed through the shattered streets, each shot barely enough to keep the horde at bay.
Ali took a hit—his second injury—and collapsed behind a rusted car, gripping his bleeding arm. "I'm hit again," he muttered through clenched teeth, his face pale from the blood loss. But there was no time for proper aid, only makeshift bandages and prayers that he could hold on a little longer.
"Stay down, Ali! Don't push yourself!" Lester called out, his own voice strained. But he knew it was no use—they were all giving everything they had, holding on by a thread. There was no retreat, no fallback. This was survival.
Williams, stationed at his sniper post, was pinned down by heavy fire. He barely managed to squeeze off a few shots before ducking behind cover, the barrage of bullets around him making it impossible to aim. "I can't get a clear shot!" he growled, frustration lacing his voice. His normally steady hands were shaking from the pressure.
Frederick crouched nearby, his weapon held tight, firing in short bursts. Sweat poured down his face, his eyes darting between the J'avo and the remaining ammunition clips he had left. "We're running dry on ammo!" he shouted, but no one answered. Not because they didn't care—there simply wasn't time to think about it. The focus was on staying alive for just a few more minutes.
The air around them was thick with smoke, and the stench of decay mixed with the pungent scent of gunpowder. Lester's heart pounded in his chest as he shot at the advancing creatures, barely keeping them at bay. He had never felt pressure like this—not even in training, not even when the virus first spread.
In those ten minutes, it was as if time itself stretched. Each second felt like an hour, the silence between the team only broken by the rapid fire of their weapons and the sound of J'avo roaring in the distance.
"Damn these things!" Jason cursed, wiping blood and sweat from his brow. "It's like they never end!"
Lester couldn't agree more. His arms felt like lead, each shot becoming harder and harder to take. His mind flashed to his father's words—don't lose your humanity, son. But how could he hold on to that now, when they were being torn apart, moment by moment?
A J'avo lunged toward Frederick, and Lester fired on instinct, taking it down just before it reached his teammate. No one spoke. No one had the energy. Just the sound of gunfire, and the heavy, labored breathing of soldiers pushed beyond their limits.
The minutes dragged on, an agonizing wait for the promised air support. Each of them had started to think the same thing: Would it come in time?
The silence between the team said it all—no one knew if they would make it. And as much as they cursed the J'avo under their breath, they cursed time even more. Ten minutes felt like a lifetime in the hell they were trapped in.
Lester's hands were shaking, exhaustion setting in, but there was no time to think, no room for fear. His thoughts went silent as he focused on one goal—surviving until that airstrike arrived.