Chapter 16 : The Bite
The SUVs formed a semicircle around the mansion's entrance, headlights blazing like accusatory fingers. Men in tactical gear poured from the vehicles—not the standard Umbrella security I'd seen in the Hive, but something more professional. Darker. The kind of operatives corporations used when they needed problems to disappear.
"Nobody move!" The lead operative's voice cut through the night. "Hands where we can see them!"
Rain's hand moved toward her empty weapon. I caught her wrist.
"Don't. We're out of ammunition and they've got us surrounded."
"So we just surrender?"
"We survive. That's what we do."
The operatives approached with weapons raised. Behind them, I spotted figures in hazmat suits carrying equipment I recognized from medical dramas—containment gear, sample kits, the tools of biological assessment.
They're not here to kill us. They're here to study us.
That was both better and worse than a simple execution.
"On your knees! Hands behind your heads!"
We complied. Rain, Kaplan, Matt, Spence—all of us dropping to the cold ground while armed men circled. Alice moved more slowly, her enhanced reflexes clearly calculating odds, but even she recognized the math. Too many guns. Too much distance.
A man in a suit stepped from one of the SUVs. Not tactical gear—actual business attire, complete with a tie that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. He walked toward us with the casual confidence of someone who'd never faced real danger.
"Project Alice," he said, stopping in front of her. "You've exceeded our expectations. Again."
Alice's jaw tightened. "I don't know you."
"Of course you don't. The amnesia gas was quite thorough." He produced a tablet, tapping through data. "But we know you. Subject 87. Primary integration successful. Combat parameters... impressive."
His attention shifted to me.
"And you. Marcus Harrison, Security Division." He studied his tablet, frowning. "Except your biometrics are anomalous. Heart rate patterns, reflex timing, physiological responses—none of it matches your file."
"Long night."
"Yes. I imagine it was." He gestured to the hazmat team. "Take samples from all of them. Priority subjects are the woman and this one."
The medical team moved forward with syringes and collection vials. I let them take blood without resistance—fighting now would just get someone shot. But my senses were working overtime, tracking positions, calculating escape routes, measuring the distance to the treeline.
Thirty meters. If I moved fast enough, I might make it.
But the others wouldn't.
"Interesting." The suit studied my blood sample, holding it up to one of the vehicle's headlights. "The color's off. Standard human blood doesn't have that sheen."
"Maybe I'm anemic."
"Maybe you're something else entirely." He pocketed the sample. "Load them up. Separate vehicles. I want the primary subjects in containment units before we reach the facility."
The operatives started herding us toward the SUVs. I was pushed toward a vehicle with reinforced doors—the kind designed to transport dangerous cargo.
That's when the zombie emerged from the mansion.
It must have followed us up from the basement. A researcher in a torn lab coat, face half-destroyed by whatever had killed it the first time. The operatives saw it too late—focused on us, not on the building behind them.
The creature lunged at the nearest hazmat technician. Teeth found flesh. The man screamed.
Everything happened at once.
Gunfire erupted. The operatives spun to face the new threat. Alice moved—faster than anyone should, her body a blur of motion that took down two guards before they could react.
I moved too.
The operative beside me was still turning when my elbow caught his throat. He dropped, gasping. I grabbed his rifle, put two rounds into the zombie's skull, and swept the barrel toward the suit in charge.
"Nobody else shoots!"
The chaos froze. Operative weapons tracked between the survivors, the corpse, and me. Alice stood over unconscious guards, breathing hard. Rain had acquired a pistol from somewhere and was covering our flank.
The suit raised his hands slowly. "Impressive reflexes, Mr. Harrison. Even more impressive than the data suggested."
"Get your people back. We're leaving."
"I'm afraid that's not possible. Umbrella has invested significant resources in—"
Another zombie burst from the mansion's side door. This one was fresher—a security guard, maybe, his Umbrella insignia still visible on a torn uniform. It moved faster than the first, driven by whatever viral imperative animated the recently dead.
It tackled Rain before she could turn.
I fired. The round went wide—too much distance, too much movement. The zombie's teeth snapped at Rain's throat. She got her arm up just in time.
The bite took a chunk from her forearm.
"NO!"
I crossed the distance in seconds, rifle butt crushing the zombie's skull. The creature dropped. Rain was on the ground, clutching her arm, blood seeping between her fingers.
"It bit me." Her voice was hollow. "Cole, it fucking bit me."
The suit was smiling. Actually smiling, like this was better than whatever he'd planned. "Fascinating. We'll get to observe the infection process in real-time."
I ignored him. Knelt beside Rain, examined the wound. Deep. Clean. The teeth marks were clearly visible, surrounded by torn flesh.
"How long?" Rain asked. "How long do I have?"
In the movies, infection was fast. Hours at most. Sometimes minutes.
"I don't know. I—"
A thought struck me. The bite on my own arm, still healing beneath improvised bandages. The infection that hadn't happened. The immunity that had saved my life in the tunnel.
"Wait."
I tore the bandage from my forearm, showing Rain the wound. The teeth marks, partially healed, pink scar tissue forming over what should have been a death sentence.
"I got bit in the Hive. Over an hour ago." I met her eyes. "I didn't turn."
"That's... that's impossible."
"A lot of impossible things have happened tonight." I turned to the suit. "Your people have medical equipment. Antiseptic, bandages, something to clean this wound. Now."
The suit's smile faded. "You're claiming immunity? That's quite a bold assertion."
"I'm not claiming anything. I'm showing you evidence." I stood, rifle still trained on him. "Your choice. Help her, or I start shooting and we take our chances with whatever's still crawling out of that mansion."
The standoff stretched. More zombies could emerge any moment—we'd killed the ones we'd seen, but the Hive had held hundreds, and we'd only stopped a fraction of them.
"Fine." The suit gestured to his medical team. "Treat the wound. Standard decontamination protocols."
The hazmat technicians moved toward Rain. I watched them work—antiseptic wash, wound cleaning, fresh bandages applied with clinical efficiency. Rain winced but didn't cry out.
"How do you feel?" I asked.
"Like I got bit by a dead person." She flexed her fingers, testing the arm. "No fever. No... I don't know what turning is supposed to feel like."
"J.D. had tremors. Sweating. His eyes changed." I watched her face, looking for any sign of the transformation I'd witnessed before. "You don't have any of that."
"Yet."
"Yet," I agreed.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Rain's wound continued bleeding, then stopped. Her color stayed normal. Her eyes stayed human.
"This is remarkable." The suit had produced his tablet again, recording observations. "Either you're both immune, or there's something about your physiology that we haven't documented. The implications for the project are—"
"The implications are that we're leaving." I gestured with the rifle. "All of us. Your people stay here, clean up whatever's left in that mansion, and we disappear."
"I can't allow that. You represent significant scientific investment."
"I represent a guy with a gun and nothing left to lose."
Alice moved to my side. Her presence was a reminder—I wasn't the only enhanced subject here. Between us, we could probably fight our way through the remaining operatives. The cost would be high, but the outcome wasn't in doubt.
The suit calculated the same odds. His smile returned, but it was different now. Resigned.
"Very well. Go. But understand—Umbrella has resources you can't imagine. You might escape tonight, but you can't escape forever."
"Watch me."
We backed toward the treeline, Rain supported between Kaplan and Matt. Spence followed, still useless, still alive through sheer luck. Alice covered our retreat, her body positioned to intercept any sudden moves.
The operatives didn't follow.
The suit watched us disappear into the darkness, his tablet still recording, his smile never quite fading.
We were free. For now.
But Rain's arm was still bandaged, still potentially lethal.
And somewhere behind us, Umbrella was already planning their next move.
Author's Note / Promotion:
Your Reviews and Power Stones are the best way to show support. They help me know what you're enjoying and bring in new readers!
You don't have to. Get instant access to more content by supporting me on Patreon. I have three options so you can pick how far ahead you want to be:
🪙 Silver Tier ($6): Read 10 chapters ahead of the public site.
👑 Gold Tier ($9): Get 15-20 chapters ahead of the public site.
💎 Platinum Tier ($15): The ultimate experience. Get new chapters the second I finish them . No waiting for weekly drops, just pure, instant access.
Your support helps me write more .
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/fanficwriter1