The relentless barrage of gunfire echoed in Lester's ears, but the real threat became clear as the minutes dragged on. One by one, his teammates began yelling, their voices filled with desperation.
"Low on ammo! We can't keep this up!"
"We need more ammo!" Frederick shouted, ducking behind cover as bullets whizzed past him.
Ali, crouching at the right flank, echoed the same. "Lester, we're running dry here!"
Lester's heart pounded as he realized their situation was growing more dire by the second. With limited ammunition and the J'avo pressing in, they wouldn't last long. He switched to his comms and reached out to Ray.
"Ray, we're in a hard spot down here. We're running out of ammo fast! We need supplies, now!"
Ray's voice crackled back over the line, calm but firm. "Just hold them off, Captain. Don't focus on killing them. It's only 4 minutes until air support arrives."
Lester clenched his jaw, frustration simmering. "Four minutes is a long time in a firefight!" he muttered under his breath, but there was no other choice. They had to hold on.
The battlefield was a storm of chaos as the team struggled to hold their positions. Just when Lester thought they might make it, Ray's voice crackled through the comms.
"Lester, I've got bad news," Ray said, his tone grim.
Lester's stomach dropped. "What is it?" he asked, dreading the answer.
Ray hesitated for a moment. "The air support... it's not going to make it in time. You need to take cover right now."
Fear shot through Lester like ice water. "What?!" he exclaimed. He quickly scanned the battlefield and barked the order into his comms, his voice tense. "Everyone, take cover! Now! Get down!"
His team, already on the edge, scrambled into whatever cover they could find. Lester himself dove behind the remains of a wrecked car, heart racing. The J'avo were still closing in, their gunfire relentless, and for a brief, terrifying moment, it seemed like this was the end.
But then, out of nowhere, the sky roared.
The air support arrived—early by three minutes. A deafening explosion rocked the ground as bombs rained down on the J'avo. The creatures were engulfed in fire and debris, their monstrous forms blown apart in the blast.
Lester, his breath caught in his throat, peeked out from his cover. The battlefield was transformed in an instant. The relentless tide of zombies was obliterated, leaving only smoldering wreckage in their place.
He exhaled in disbelief, a mix of relief and exhaustion flooding him. "That was close," he muttered, still processing how narrowly they'd escaped disaster.
As the dust settled and the fire from the air support faded, Lester stood up, still catching his breath. His relief quickly turned into frustration, and he yelled into his comms, "Ray, that was a good joke, but this wasn't the time for it!"
Ray's voice came back, slightly amused, "Just doing what I can, Captain."
Lester shook his head, the tension still simmering. He turned and scanned his team, spotting Jason kneeling beside Williams, who was struggling with Jackson's injuries. Blood was seeping through Jackson's uniform, and his body was riddled with shrapnel and bolts from the earlier explosion.
"Jason, what do I need to do to help?" Lester asked, rushing over.
Jason looked up, his face grim. "Help Williams get Jackson stabilized. We need to remove the bolts from his body and bandage him up, fast."
Lester nodded, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He dropped to his knees beside Jackson, pulling out his combat knife. "Alright, let's do this."
Together, they worked quickly but carefully, extracting the bolts from Jackson's body while Williams prepared the bandages. The battlefield had quieted, but the urgency of the moment hadn't passed.
"Hang in there, Jackson," Lester muttered as he helped dress the wounds. "We're not losing anyone today."
Frederick sat off to the side, breathing heavily as he wrapped a bandage around his arm. The bolts hadn't hit him deep, and the worst of his wounds were superficial, but the exhaustion from the battle weighed heavily on him. He leaned back, taking a moment to rest, while the others continued to work on Jackson.
Lester and Williams were still struggling to stop the bleeding from Jackson's wounds. After a tense two minutes of pulling out shrapnel and patching him up, they finally finished. Jackson was pale but stable, his breathing steadying as the bandages held.
Lester wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing around to check on his team. His eyes drifted to the horizon, where the three snipers had provided them crucial cover. One of the snipers caught his attention—a woman, standing tall and observing them from a distance. Her gaze was sharp, and for a moment, their eyes met.
Then, without a word, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the smoke and wreckage.
Lester furrowed his brow, watching her leave. "Who was that?" he muttered to himself, curiosity piqued. But before he could dwell on it further, his attention was pulled back to his team.
With Jackson bandaged and Frederick resting, Lester knew they couldn't stay out in the open any longer. He activated his comms and reached out to Ray.
"Ray, we need a secure place to take cover. Jackson and Frederick are hurt, and we need to regroup, count our ammo, and figure out our next steps for transportation. Do you have any suggestions?"
Ray's voice came through quickly, already scanning the area. "I see a small structure about 500 meters northeast. It looks like an old gas station. It's not ideal, but it should provide some cover while you regroup."
Lester looked in the direction Ray mentioned. The building was barely visible through the haze, but it was their best shot. "That'll have to do," Lester replied. "We'll move out now."
Turning to his team, he gave the order. "Alright, everyone, we're moving to that gas station for some cover. Frederick, Jackson—hang in there. Williams, help me with Jackson. Ali, keep an eye on our six."
With Jackson supported between him and Williams, the group started making their way toward the gas station, hoping it would offer enough protection to reassess their situation.
After a few grueling moments of navigating through debris and keeping an eye out for more enemies, Lester and his team finally reached the gas station. The structure looked worn, but it would have to do for now. They carefully laid Jackson and Frederick down on some old crates.
Lester turned to Ali. "Keep an eye on them. Williams and I will check the station for any threats."
Ali nodded, positioning himself near the injured, ready to defend them if needed. Lester and Williams moved cautiously into the building, weapons at the ready. They quickly encountered a few regular zombies, but they weren't much of a challenge. With precise shots, the creatures were taken down swiftly.
The rest of the station was clear. It was old, dusty, and smelled of oil, but it was quiet—safe enough for the moment.
Lester and Williams returned to where Ali sat watching over the injured. "Station's clear," Lester said. "Let's get some rest while we can."
Exhausted and tense from the battle, the team settled in, taking a moment to catch their breath and tend to their wounded.
Once inside the dim, dusty interior of the gas station, the team found a relatively intact corner with an old bench and some scattered crates. It wasn't much, but it was enough for now. Jackson and Frederick, both exhausted and weak from their injuries, were gently laid down. Their faces were pale, and despite the discomfort of their wounds, sleep overtook them almost immediately.
Lester stood up, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. His body ached, but there was no time for rest. He motioned for Ali, Jason, and Williams to gather around him.
As they crouched near a flickering gas station lamp, Lester lowered his voice. "Alright, let's talk," he said, glancing over at the two injured men. "We need a plan. Jackson and Frederick are stable for now, but they won't last long if we don't figure out how to move forward. We're running low on ammo, and we're sitting ducks if another wave of those things shows up."
Jason leaned against the wall, rubbing his temple. "I still don't get why we were chosen for this mission. Raccoon City, Nemesis—this is beyond anything I've seen."
Lester nodded, his face tight with tension. "I don't have all the answers, but if we were selected, that means they believe we can handle it. Nemesis… whatever happened in 1998, we need to find out what we're up against and why the virus is spreading again. That police station is our key to understanding."
Williams looked down at his rifle, his fingers tapping nervously along the barrel. "But first, we need to deal with the immediate problem. Jackson's in bad shape, and Frederick's going to need more than just rest. We've got limited medical supplies."
Ali, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. "We also need to think about transportation. Our car's totaled. We need another way out if things get bad."
Lester sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're right. We need to assess the equipment we have left—ammo, med supplies, everything. But first, we need to figure out how to keep Jackson and Frederick stable. We can't afford to lose anyone."
The group fell silent for a moment, the weight of their situation pressing down on them. Outside, the wind howled, carrying with it distant groans of the undead.
Lester broke the silence. "First thing's first: we set up a watch rotation. We'll rest in shifts. Tomorrow, we'll scout for supplies and figure out how to get to Raccoon City. No matter what, we keep moving forward."
A few moments after the conversation fell silent, Ray's voice suddenly broke through the stillness, crackling through their comms. "Lester," Ray said, his voice low but clear, "there's a group from our team passing near your location. Do you need anything?"
Lester, still crouched by the dim light, glanced back at Jackson and Frederick, both barely holding on. He sighed and responded quickly, "Yeah, we've got a situation here. Jackson's in bad shape, Frederick's not much better, and we're running low on ammo. We could use an evacuation for Jackson—and some extra supplies if possible."
Ray was quiet for a moment, and then he replied, "I'll let them know. They'll be there soon. They can provide you with ammo and medical supplies, and they'll take Jackson to safety."
Lester felt a brief surge of relief wash over him. He turned to the others and spoke in a hushed voice, "Help is on the way. They're going to take Jackson out of here and resupply us."
Williams nodded, but his expression was still heavy with concern. "Good, but let's stay sharp until they arrive. We can't afford to let our guard down."
Ali, sitting nearby, kept his eyes on the entrance, his weapon resting across his lap, ready for anything. "It's going to feel strange, not having Jackson with us. We've been through a lot together."
Lester gave a tight nod. "I know, but right now, we need to focus on keeping the rest of the team alive."
They fell into a tense silence again, the weight of the situation hanging over them like a cloud. Outside, the distant sound of infected creatures echoed through the night, growing fainter as they waited for their much-needed reinforcements.