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Tali was still holding her small DV camera, her voice shaking with disbelief as she recorded everything.
"Oh, come on," she said breathlessly. "Those guys are mercenaries from the Umbrella Corporation. They're not spending your tax money!"
Her words hung in the heavy air of the ruined street.
Peyton was supporting Deadpool, who was hopping on one leg because of the gunshot wound in his foot. But strangely, it did not feel like he was helping someone injured. Deadpool had placed most of his weight on Jill's other side, leaning toward her as if he were simply tired from a long walk.
In fact, his masked head was slowly tilting… resting gently against Jill's bare shoulder.
"So fragrant. So soft. So smooth," Deadpool whispered under his breath.
"Didn't they say old shoulders are cunning?" he added casually. "This one doesn't feel old at all."
Jill's face darkened.
Her jaw tightened. Her eyes narrowed.
For several seconds she endured it. Then she couldn't take it anymore.
She shoved Deadpool's head away sharply.
"Peyton, you support him," she said coldly as she stepped forward. In one smooth motion she drew her pistol and cocked it. "I'll stay on alert."
Deadpool's head bounced off Jill's shoulder and he stumbled backward—straight onto Peyton's broad chest.
He blinked.
"Well now," he murmured happily. "Wide. Thick. Warm."
He relaxed instantly, leaning comfortably against Peyton.
"Oh, I should have been on this side from the beginning! This shoulder is warm and broad. Much more comfortable!"
Jill did not look back.
Peyton's face was already dark enough. If it grew any darker, it might become a black hole and swallow the entire street.
"This is a lifesaver," Peyton muttered under his breath. "This is a lifesaver."
He resisted the urge to drop Deadpool entirely and kept holding him upright.
After a short stretch of silence, Deadpool yawned.
That broad shoulder was dangerously comfortable. He felt his eyelids growing heavy.
Maybe he should just ask Peyton to carry him.
Yes. That would be perfect.
He could take a peaceful nap while the apocalypse continued around him.
Just as his eyes were about to close—
Slap!
Pain exploded across his masked face.
Deadpool lifted his head slowly, stunned.
Peyton had just slapped him hard.
"Buddy, don't sleep!" Peyton said urgently.
Deadpool stared at him.
A large imaginary question mark appeared above his head.
Peyton took a breath and changed the subject, his voice more serious now.
"My name is Peyton. I'm a police officer from the Raccoon City Police Special Forces, S.T.A.R.S."
He nodded toward the woman ahead of them.
"That's Jill. She's also a member of S.T.A.R.S."
Jill did not turn around.
Peyton swallowed.
He believed Deadpool's wound had likely been contaminated with zombie blood. In his experience, that meant infection. And infection meant death.
He felt guilty.
If Deadpool had not tried to help them earlier, he would not be injured now.
"I'm Tali," the young woman added, still holding her camera. "Reporter for Raccoon City TV."
Deadpool tilted his head.
"You can call me Deadpool."
"Dead… pool?" Peyton frowned slightly. "Then I'll just call you Pool."
"No, no, no." Deadpool waved a finger. "That is my superhero name. Deadpool."
"Superhero?" Peyton glanced at the red-and-black suit. "So this is your uniform?"
Deadpool straightened proudly.
"Yes. Cool, right?"
"Yes," Peyton replied politely. "Very cool."
He paused, then added carefully, "Red and black… Is it inspired by Spider-Man?"
Deadpool froze.
Then he slowly turned his head.
"Listen, Peyton," he said seriously. "Although my relationship with Peter Parker is excellent, I am older than him. If anyone copied someone, he copied me."
Peyton blinked.
"All right," he said. "Whatever you say."
Deadpool relaxed again.
"Wait," he added suddenly. "You actually know Spider-Man?"
"Of course," Peyton replied awkwardly. "Everyone had superhero dreams growing up. Captain America. Thor. Spider-Man. Superman. Batman. Green Lantern…"
Deadpool's body stiffened.
"You know Green Lantern?"
Peyton hesitated. "Yes?"
"You know that glowing space cop," Deadpool muttered angrily, "but you don't know me?"
His voice rose dramatically.
"This is my shame," he declared. "A shame that time cannot erase!"
"Are you… imitating someone?" Peyton asked carefully.
Deadpool lifted a finger.
"Mercenary background. Master of combat. Skilled with swords and guns. Rapid healing ability."
Peyton thought hard.
Then inspiration struck.
"Deathstroke?"
Silence.
Deadpool deflated instantly.
"Wade. Wade Wilson," he corrected quietly. "Thank you."
He slumped back against Peyton's shoulder.
For once, he was silent.
Well.
This round went to someone else.
Of course, silence and Deadpool never stayed together for long.
Soon enough—
"Why are you looking around so nervously?" Deadpool asked.
"I'm keeping watch," Peyton replied.
"Afraid of zombies?"
"Of course I am."
"Oh, come on. Anyone can be afraid right now. But you? You shouldn't be."
Deadpool patted Peyton's face lightly.
"With your apocalyptic night camouflage skin, just stand in a dark corner. Close your mouth. Close your eyes. Who could possibly see you?"
"Wade," Peyton said flatly. "That's not funny."
"Yes," Deadpool nodded. "It's survival advice."
Peyton sighed deeply.
Before he could answer—
"Guys."
Jill's voice cut through the air.
It was calm. Serious.
Deadpool followed her gaze.
Ahead of them, several zombies were crouched over torn bodies, feeding greedily.
One of them lifted its head.
Its eyes were gray and empty.
Then it stood.
And roared.
More heads turned.
More bodies rose.
The beginner's luck was over.
Their team had just encountered their first real wave.
"Shoot them in the head!" Jill shouted.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Her pistol fired three times.
Three perfect shots.
Three zombies dropped instantly.
Her weapon—a customized Smith & Wesson 5946—gleamed silver in the broken streetlight. It looked small in her hand, but her grip was firm and steady.
Tali ducked behind Peyton, still filming.
Peyton drew his sidearm and fired.
His aim was not as sharp as Jill's, but he hit enough.
Zombies fell.
Bodies collapsed.
For a moment, it seemed manageable.
Then—
Glass shattered.
Windows on both sides of the street exploded outward.
More zombies poured from shops and buildings.
Dozens.
Maybe more.
The gunshots had drawn them in.
Deadpool watched quietly.
Then he sighed.
"Well," he muttered. "This escalated quickly."
Jill reloaded smoothly.
"We're moving!" she ordered.
But the street was already filling.
The horde surged forward like a dark tide.
Peyton stepped ahead protectively, firing again.
Tali trembled but kept recording.
Deadpool slowly straightened.
His injured foot touched the ground.
He winced.
Then he cracked his neck.
"You know," he said casually, "I was trying to rest."
The nearest zombie lunged.
Deadpool drew one of his pistols in a flash.
Bang.
The zombie's head snapped backward.
He drew the second pistol.
Bang. Bang.
Two more fell.
He moved smoothly now, ignoring the pain.
Jill noticed.
"You can still fight?"
Deadpool shrugged.
"I heal fast."
Another zombie grabbed his arm.
He shot it point-blank.
"Very fast."
The horde kept coming.
Jill and Peyton formed a defensive line.
Deadpool stepped forward.
For a brief second, his posture changed.
Less joking.
More dangerous.
He drew his twin swords.
The blades flashed under the dim light.
The first swing cut clean through a zombie's neck.
The second sliced through another's skull.
He moved quickly.
Too quickly.
Jill stared for half a second.
"Focus!" she shouted at herself.
More zombies rushed in.
Deadpool spun.
Steel sang through the air.
Heads rolled.
Bodies fell.
Peyton fired until his magazine emptied.
"Reloading!"
Jill stepped back, covering him.
Deadpool leaped onto a broken car hood.
From that higher ground, he scanned the street.
Too many.
Still too many.
He looked at Jill.
"Got a plan?"
She nodded toward an alley.
"We break through there!"
"Perfect," Deadpool replied cheerfully. "I love narrow spaces filled with enemies."
"Move!" Jill shouted.
They advanced together.
Deadpool cleared the front.
Jill covered the sides.
Peyton protected Tali.
Zombies lunged from every direction.
One grabbed Tali's arm.
She screamed.
Deadpool threw a sword.
The blade pierced the zombie's skull instantly.
He pulled Tali free.
"Document that," he winked.
They reached the alley.
But more zombies blocked the exit.
Jill's jaw tightened.
This was bad.
Very bad.
Deadpool looked around.
Then he smiled under his mask.
"Old shoulders," he murmured. "Time to prove they're cunning."
He turned to Peyton.
"Trust me."
Peyton did not like that sentence.
Deadpool suddenly rushed forward alone.
He made noise.
Lots of noise.
"Hey! Over here, ugly!"
He fired wildly into the air.
The zombies shifted toward him.
They followed sound.
Movement.
He sprinted deeper into the alley, drawing the horde with him.
Jill understood instantly.
"Go!" she shouted.
She grabbed Tali.
Peyton followed.
They slipped around the thinning edges of the horde.
Deadpool ran.
Then he turned sharply and climbed a fire escape ladder.
Zombies crashed into each other below.
He reached the second floor and kicked the ladder down.
The metal frame fell.
Blocking the path.
He leaned against the wall.
"Cardio complete," he muttered.
From the street beyond, he heard gunshots fading.
Jill and the others had made it.
Good.
Very good.
Deadpool looked down at his wounded foot.
The bullet hole was already closing.
The skin knitting together slowly.
He sighed.
"Guess I'm not dying today."
Below him, zombies still wandered aimlessly.
He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"Cunning," he whispered.
Then he stood up straight.
Time to regroup.
Time to find the others.
Time to survive another night in Raccoon City.