Three Hunters leapt down from the ceiling, lunging toward Carlos and his two companions—or more accurately, toward Carlos and Murphy. Lear, the greater threat, and Brad, the lesser one, were both ignored by the trio of creatures.
Despite the ambush coming without warning, the group consisted of well-trained soldiers and police. The moment the Hunters pounced, gunfire roared through the hospital corridor.
These three were ordinary Hunters, and the incoming hail of bullets interrupted their assault. However, the suppressive fire couldn't be sustained. Taking advantage of a gap during a reload, one Hunter shielded its face with its claws and charged straight at the group.
Then, it made intimate contact with Lear's shoe. An ear-grating crunch of shattering bone rang out, and the Hunter was sent flying back like a kite with its string cut, slamming heavily into a pile of junk in the distance and kicking up a cloud of dust.
In truth, Lear had been prepared to strike from the moment the Hunters pounced. But seeing that they weren't targeting him, he held back initially—partly out of trust in Carlos and Murphy's combat capabilities, and partly out of confidence in his own ability to bail them out no matter what happened.
The other two Hunters clearly hadn't expected a human to possess such immense strength. Seeing their comrade sent flying, they froze for a split second, the claws guarding their faces lowering slightly.
Carlos and Murphy's eyes lit up. They had total faith in Lear's fighting prowess and didn't even bother looking at the Hunter that had been kicked away. Instead, they held down their triggers and unleashed hell.
Dozens of rounds from their two rifles struck the remaining Hunters like a rainstorm. The two creatures shuddered as if caught in a violent convulsion before collapsing motionless, foul-smelling green blood pooling beneath them.
The entire battle lasted less than three minutes, ending with two Hunters dead and one heavily injured. Once the two were dealt with, Murphy raised his gun and walked slowly toward the pile of debris where Lear had kicked the first Hunter, intending to deliver the finishing blow.
"Hey! Guys, I'm not crazy, right? That thing flew right over here, didn't it? Where'd it go?" Murphy reached the pile of junk and frowned, looking at the cratered mess where nothing remained.
Lear glanced over and said in a low voice, "If it's gone, forget it. It probably crawled off. Let's go—that thing was badly hurt; it won't cause us any more trouble. Fall back to the Main Hall. As soon as Jill wakes up, we're leaving by chopper."
Murphy shrugged and didn't press the matter, turning back to rejoin the group as they headed downstairs.
Lear walked at the rear. Before leaving, he cast a deep, lingering look into the darkness at the corner of the hallway before turning to head down. In that darkness, a pair of eyes watched him in return, flickering with an indiscernible light.
That Hunter had taken the full force of Lear's kick; even if it wasn't dead, it was crippled. It couldn't have escaped on its own. In the brief interval while Carlos and Murphy were dealing with the other two, Lear had seen it clearly: that special Hunter had silently dragged its mangled kin into the shadows behind the corner.
Lear didn't actually care what that special Hunter was trying to do; right now, he only wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
Exposing its actions just now would have done Lear no good. Formidable as that Hunter was, if it were pushed to a desperate choice, it might not have been able to hurt Lear, but killing Brad would have been easy. If something happened to Brad, they wouldn't be able to leave at all.
Soon, Lear and the others were brought back to the Main Hall. Tyrell was still at the front desk, his computer hooked into the hospital system, searching for something.
Hearing footsteps, Tyrell looked up sharply and ran toward the group with a heavy expression.
"Lear, we're almost out of time, we have to leave right now. Did you find the plane?" Tyrell's face looked terrible. "Based on the information I just intercepted, the military can't take the casualties anymore. They've started withdrawing from Raccoon City. The situation is spinning out of control!"
Carlos frowned, still not entirely grasping the weight of Tyrell's words. "Out of control? What do you mean? Are we going to be completely quarantined in Raccoon City?"
"It's much worse than that." Tyrell shook his head slowly. "I expect the higher-ups will initiate a cleanup plan soon.
"In other words, we're likely about to get hit by a missile!"
A low voice suddenly cut in. The group turned to see Dr. Bard, who had walked out of the treatment room at some point. His face was pale, his eyes filled with despair, and he continued: "Knowing those people at the top as I do, we were abandoned long ago. Every survivor in Raccoon City is a disposable pawn."
His voice carried an uncontrollable tremor, growing quieter as he spoke: "And even if we can find a plane to escape now, who's to say it won't be shot down by the military? We..."
"I can!"
A steady voice interrupted Dr. Bard's pessimistic speech.
Lear stepped forward, pulling a satellite phone from his waist and holding it up slightly. His gaze swept firmly over the group. "You should recognize this, right? I can use it to contact Chief Raymond outside the city, as well as the Mayor's daughter, Miss Katherine. As long as we can get on that plane, we will definitely leave safely."
Seeing the tension on everyone's faces gradually ease, Lear felt a secret sense of relief.
He wasn't lying; Chief Raymond and Katherine did have the power to protect everyone, but only on the condition that they could actually be contacted. He had no idea how to use this satellite phone, nor did he have Katherine or Raymond's phone numbers. Bringing it out now was purely to soothe their minds and stabilize the team's morale.
Just as Lear was quietly contemplating how to contact the outside world, a flurry of light footsteps echoed through the Main Hall. Little Sherry ran out from the inner room, her small face full of excitement as she shouted toward Lear: "Brother Lear, Sister Jill is awake!"
Hearing the news, Lear immediately stopped thinking and charged toward the treatment room at top speed.
Pushing the door open, the sight before him caused his frayed nerves to finally relax.
Jill was leaning against the cushions at the head of the bed. The bluish-black tint on her face had completely faded, replaced by her usual healthy glow. She was holding a water cup, taking small sips with a peaceful expression.
Seeing Lear rush in so frantically, Jill couldn't help but smile.
"Why the rush? I'm fine," she said softly, her tone carrying a rare hint of playful affection. "It just feels like I took a long nap. My head is just a little heavy now."
Lear walked quickly to the bedside and took her hand. The scars on her skin had healed, and those bulging green veins had all vanished.
At that moment, Dr. Bard squeezed in from outside. He skillfully flipped Jill's eyelids, listened to her heartbeat with a stethoscope, and performed several basic vital sign checks. Then, a slight smile appeared.
"She's fine. The virus has been dissolved by the vaccine. Your friend has a very strong constitution; I thought she'd be out for a while longer."
Hearing that Jill was all right, Lear felt as though a massive weight had finally been lifted from his heart. He sat by Jill's bedside, holding her hand, for a moment finding himself at a loss for words.
(Translated by yourtl.app)