Chapter 116: Heartstopper

The steady, rhythmic crack of carbine fire sliced through the blaring alarm. Rick and Rachel were cutting down soldiers as quickly as they appeared. Their mission was clear: none of them could be allowed to escape the area. On the slim chance any reached the surface, a single bite could trigger a new outbreak.

They were not stationary, however. The noise of their assault rifles attracted the BOWs like moths to a flame. Rick and Rachel were using that to lure the creatures toward Tyler on the upper level, hoping the monsters would deal with him or at least tire the former man. Leon, whom Rick had grabbed and tossed to the upper level, was distracting their target. It was a difficult task. The Tyrant’s skin had hardened enough to be impervious to bullets.

“Liquid, I’m taking us up.”

That was all the warning Rick gave his partner. He shot two modified soldiers in the knee, making them fall to the ground and blocking the way for those behind them. He caught Rachel by the waist and, with a bit of room to breathe, leaped across the chasm to the less-crowded outer ring. Right where the number of enemies was lower.

They used the short break to reload their weapons. Then Rick leaped again, this time to the floor above. He had barely released Rachel before she was already firing on Tyler. Much like Leon’s 9mm rounds, the 5.56 NATO ammunition did nothing beyond leaving small impact marks on the BOW’s armored skin.

Seeing it was useless, she and Rick who was now aiming too, target the joints. Usually an universal weakness on everyone and everything, damaging one gave a serious advantage to the attacker as the target’s movements were reduced or impaired. It wasn’t lethal by any means but helped in creating opportunities for a blow that was.

Unfortunately for them, Tyler’s joints were not soft. They weren’t hard either but covered in actual grown armor, not skin. That meant not only did the pair do no damage at all but that their enemy could move without problem.

Deciding that Leon was less annoying than they were, Tyler turned around and charged across the narrow bridge they were standing on. A smart move on his part that would spell the doom of anyone in his way.

At eight feet tall, with his muscular mass and hardened shell, he was a true juggernaut running in a straight line. There was no easy escape for his soon-to-be victims. They could either turn and sprint, only to be caught by Tyler’s speed and momentum, or jump over the rail and fall into the acid pool below.

The victims were not regular people, however. At least one of them was not.

Rick let go of his firearm, which dangled from its strap at his shoulder, and began to run toward Tyler to intercept him.

To say the contact between the two had been violent would be an understatement. Rick, arms raised forward, slammed into Tyler’s chest. He put all the strength he could muster behind the small momentum he had gained, but it was not enough to stop the charge. It only slowed it, and Rick was pushed back. That was fine. It gave Rachel time to retreat safely.

“What are you?” Tyler growled, pushing forward more. He had expected to completely roll over or at least tear apart this human obstacle in front of him with his new found strength. Not being thwarted.

With gritted teeth, Rick tried to push back now that Tyler no longer had speed on his side. The earlier charge had been destructive because of the Tyrant’s mass, but without momentum it came down to strength alone. Whoever had more and could use it better would win.

Not getting an answer, Tyler raised his knee and drove it into Rick’s stomach. The blow was so devastating that Rick’s whole body lifted off the ground, his feet leaving the floor. It did not stop there. A backhand to the head sent the breathless Rick crashing sideways, denting the metal rail of the bridge.

Bracing himself for another hit, Rick’s mind froze when he saw, in slow motion, Rachel leap forward with a broken pipe aimed straight at Tyler’s heart, taking advantage of the distraction. In the same slow motion he watched Tyler punch her in the stomach so hard that she was sent flying over the rail and fell toward her doom.

Rick’s body moved on its own. In a burst of explosive speed he went from kneeling on one side of the bridge to leaping over the other side. He kicked down the rail for extra momentum and caught his best friend. He could see the horror in her one visible eye, the other hidden by her blonde mane. Fortunately, he reached her in time. Grabbing her ankle, he swung his arm wildly and tossed her sideways. She collided with a defective pod that had yet to open but still in the inner ring. Believing she could recover before the T-virus engineered super soldiers overwhelmed her, Rick prepared for his own landing.

The prospects were not good. At best, he would simply fall into the acid pool. He did not know if his healing factor was faster than the melting effect of the acid, and he would not bet on it. If it was not, he would die painfully within seconds. At worst, he would regenerate faster and endure a great deal of excruciating pain.

His last chance to survive unscathed was to grab one of the pods that had not been discarded yet. The release mechanism was busted and had failed to drop its load. With no other choice, Rick threw his arms out and tried to seize his silver lining.

He did.

It was not a success.

His weight, speed, and gravity worked against him. The force was enough to dislodge the pod from its secure position, and both fell together.

But Rick was lucky. Grabbing the pod had shifted his body’s position and trajectory. When he landed, he was not completely inside the acid. Only his legs, almost up to the pelvis, plunged in. The rest of his body crashed heavily onto the ledge of a broken platform that bridged the inner ring and the outer one.

The thirty-foot drop and sudden impact, along with the acid melting his lower body, delivered so much damage that Rick was knocked out on the spot from the pain. His healing factor had already kicked in. Blood vessels, veins, arteries, bones, muscles, and organs were repairing themselves at a rapid pace. Unfortunately, the sudden impact and Rick’s weight caused the broken platform to cave in. It now leaned into the acid, slowly sliding him back toward it.

“RICK!”

His head had healed enough for him to regain consciousness, partly from the pain itself. He heard Claire’s voice. At first he thought he had imagined it. She could not possibly be here.

He was proven wrong when two hands grabbed him and dragged him up, away from the acid and to safety. His sight returned, showing that his brain’s visual cortex was operational again, and he saw Claire’s worried face above his own. It was blurry.

“Cl…aire?”

Instead of answering him, she turned her head to the side, distracted. Then she grabbed his Magnum and drew it to shoot at something. One shot only followed by a scream of pain escaping her mouth. Mustering the bit of recovered strength he had he rolled over to his side and saw supersoldiers coming their way, his ex having taken one down.

“What the hell is that gun?! I broke my wrist!”

That was very bad news. A normal person needed two hands to fire a S&W500 and quite the arm strength. Claire hadn’t been able to handle it with both hands, she certainly wouldn’t be able to handle it with hand.

“Gimme.”

His voice was low and pained but Claire heard him. Not hesitating, she put the revolver in his one functioning hand and Rick immediately took a shot. It missed by a mile its target.

Claire laid down on the ground right next to him and moved the gun. “I aim, you shoot. SHOOT!”

Not thinking that her plan was insane or anything else, Rick pulled the trigger. This time it was not only a hit but a bullseye. The supersoldier took the bullet right between the eye and its whole head exploded. His and the one’s behind it. They repeated the act three more times, until the gun was out of bullets. Thankfully they had no more targets to shoot at.

Lowering his arm and letting go of his weapon, he looked at his ex. “What are you… doing here?”

With a frown on her face, she gave him a simple “I kept digging.”

Rick took a deep breath and pondered if he should ask for more details or not. If Claire was able to find this place and infiltrate it when she didn’t have the resources he had then this was very worrying. It meant any enemy of the US could because their security was utter shit. It was either this or Claire was secretly the greatest investigator and spy in the world and considering, in his opinion, that she was a total meathead that was unlikely.

The sudden lack of gunfire cut through his thoughts. So far the entire area echoed with his, Leon’s and Rachel’s weapons noise and it had become background sound. Its absence meant a few things and none but one were good. The realization made him focus back on his mission and drop his line of thoughts regarding Claire.

Looking down, his legs were not quite healed completely. He had recovered his thighs but everything below the knees were still regrowing.

“Damnit.”

His upper body was back to normal, albeit covered in his own blood. Grabbing back his magnum he pushed the cylinder to the side and dropped the empty cartridges. With his other hand, he picked a half-moon speedloader from a pocket of his tac vest and loaded them swiftly and flawlessly. The moment he could stand on his feet he was getting right back into the fray.

“Go.” He told her. “They need help and I can’t provide it right now.”

That was what Claire had in mind but she didn’t want to leave Rick alone like this. Seeing him fall like he did to save his comrade at the risk of his own life then barely escaping certain death had rendered her quite distressed. Thankfully she had a good excuse.

“Unarmed and with a broken wrist?” To drive the point home, she almost shove right to his face, her right arm she was holding with the left.

“My carbine must be—”

“Dissolved in the acid.” She revealed in a defeated tone. “At least that’s what I think it was when I saw you fall. Everything was going so fast.”

Looking back down at his legs which were healed up to half his calves, Rick sighed. “We’re going to talk about how you found this place and got inside.”

Her face turned sheepish but also annoyed. “I didn’t. I was… kidnapped.” Admitting it sounded as if it was costing her a lot. Rick’s flat look made her temper flare. “I was tased in my own hotel room! I bashed the head of one of the guys who came for me but it was the second who got me!” She huffed when his expression didn’t change. “Wilson is behind all this. He had his goons bring me here, wherever that is, and tried to bribe me. When I told him he could go fuck himself… Well… That guy appeared then… “ She took a moment to piece the words together. “They thought. Or rather, the guy turned into that thing and bit Wilson, then you, Leon and your colleagues came gun blazing.”

“And you didn’t run because?” His tone was firm and reprimanding.

“I was tied to a chair and barely freed myself before the acid reached me. Navigating to safety had been… an ordeal.”

Seeing that all was left to regenerate was his toes, Rick, after sighing, cut the conversation short. “We’re definitely talking about this once this is over, Claire.”

Raising to his feet, she helped him keep his balance. “I was right though.”

Understanding what she meant, he shot her down immediately. “You were wrong. Wilson’s activities were not sanctioned by the government. They never were. Besides myself, because I was never officially labeled as such, the US government does not use BOWs.”

He moved all his toes to make sure everything was in order, then tucked his revolver back into its holster and picked Claire up in a princess carry. She opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out when she felt the rush of wind from his jump. Rick leaped up to the outer ring, then again and again until they reached the highest level.

Leon was busy dodging Tyler’s fists as best he could, and it was clear he would soon be hit. Not seeing Rachel anywhere, Rick hoped she was all right and refused to let fear for her distract him from the mission. He released Claire and charged straight at Tyler to give Leon some breathing room. Unfortunately, he was a fraction too late.

Leon crossed his arms defensively in front of him just in time to absorb a punch that sent him rolling over the ledge of the platform and down to the level below.

It did not change Rick’s tackle. He hit Tyler hard enough to throw him off balance. The assault did not stop there. He kicked the Tyrant onto his back, forcing him closer to the ledge in hopes of making him fall into the acid. It was the only solution Rick had if he doubted he could line up a clean Magnum shot to the heart. Even if he did, past experience showed one bullet would not be enough.

Tyler swung his arm widely and Rick had no choice but to jump back. Not that the hit would have connected anyway. From Rick’s perspective the man moved as slow as a snail. “You… I remember you now.”

“Is that so?” Rick used his explosive speed to dodge another punch. Already he was growing frustrated. Tyler might not be able to touch him, but Rick could not damage the Tyrant in return because of the thick armored skin.

“You’re the reason I was—”

“No.” Rick delivered a straight punch to the jaw, interrupting him. “You were kicked out because you were a bullying asshole. You would not have made the cut anyway.”

The more he spoke, the more Tyler let his rage take over.

“The purpose of the Unit was to fight BOWs,” Rick continued, never stopping his evasive movements. “Look at you. One encounter in Penamstan and you broke.”

“What do you know about the terror I saw there!”

“I know I was sent there to clean up any zombies left. I also know that the day we met I had already gone through five similar ordeals and I was seventeen. That includes Raccoon City. You’re just a pussy.”

Tyler roared in fury and charged mindlessly at Rick. “RAAAAAHHHH!”

This time, Rick didn’t simply dodged, he slid behind Tyler and sneaked his arms under him to hold the man in a hold. Rick had enough strength to lift his opponent up and slowly walked towards the ledge while carrying it. All along he hadn’t evaded mindlessly but subtly lured Tyler closer to the acid and his doom.

It wasn’t easy. Tyler was fighting with everything he had to get free. His huge build played against him regarding getting rid of Rick but his weight helped. Somehow he was able to put his feet back onto the platform’s ground. In a powerful move, he purposefully fell on Rick to squash him against the ground. Seeing it coming, Rick let go and moved out of the way.

From behind Tyler, beyond the platform and onto the outer ring near what looked like a control room, he saw Rachel alive with a rocket launcher on her shoulder. Ignoring the wave of relief he felt, Rick waited for what would come next as he taunted Tyler to keep his attention. She fired straight at the Tyrant’s back. Both partners hoped it would be enough to destroy him. In a feat of spatial awareness far beyond what a usual Tyrant could manage, Tyler sidestepped and remained unharmed.

The rocket continued in a straight line toward Rick instead. Unknowingly deciding to show his opponent up, Rick’s perception of moving objects went into overdrive. He saw the flying explosive coming very slowly, slow enough for him to catch it with one hand and, despite its propulsion, redirect it at Tyler. His enemy was surprised, of course, but only for a second, which was more than enough time to react. Not gracefully, and not with much time to spare. The rocket hit him at the waist. The explosion sent him flying sideways a few feet, taking a leg and a good chunk of his torso with it.

Unfortunately for everyone fighting him, his heart was left unscathed.

But it didn’t matter much to Rick. In a blink of an eye he was behind Tyler, lifting him up to drag him over the ledge as per the plan he had still in mind.

Tyler suddenly fought back. The Tyrant leaned forward and drove an elbow backward, hitting Rick in the face. The resulting pain, broken bones, and concussion made Rick lose his grip. Before he could heal and regain the clarity to finish the job, Tyler turned around. Putting all his balance and weight on his remaining functioning leg, he pushed Rick into the acid below.

Rick’s body had a mind of its own, however. Both arms rose and entered a handlock with Tyler. The difference in height and weight played heavily in the Tyrant’s favor. Had Rick been fully lucid he would have swept the remaining leg and won the exchange. Unfortunately he had not been, and by the time he recovered he was in a very defensive position, body leaning back and on the verge of tipping over.

What happened next he only caught because it unfolded in slow motion. Tyler’s heart burst through his back as a huge bullet pierced Rick’s own chest. More than that, he felt it destroy his ribcage and the organ inside. His lungs and heart were punctured and ripped to shreds in the bullet’s destructive path, which completely blew out his back as it exited.

Tyler, dead on the spot from the blow, lost all its strength and his weight fell onto Rick. Both fell over the ledge, like ragdolls being discarded.

“Nooo!”

Rick recognized Claire’s voice, as he fell. As if earlier had not been a very long fall, this one would be no different. Once again he hoped the pain would just last for a few moments before melting to nothing.

To his surprise, his body stopped falling, unlike Tyler’s, and was tugged by the arm resulting in him dangling.

“Got you.”

Blinking, Rick realized Leon had caught him right as he was falling to his death.

“Did… Did you…”

Jaw set and with gritted teeth, showing how much he was struggling to hold onto Rick, Leon shared some words. “Caught you as you fell? Yeah.”

Seeing his friend’s efforts, Rick grabbed the rail to pull his own weight to make it easier to be pulled up. “Who’s the superhuman now?”

Leon smirked and stepped back from the rail, bringing Rick with him. Once on solid ground, the first thing Rick did was check the acid pool below to make sure Tyler was dead. He knew there was no way the man could have survived his heart being destroyed and then falling into the acid, but he needed to be certain.

“One down, one more to go.”

His mind had not forgotten that the primary objective of his mission was to get proof of Wilson’s illegal activities, treason and arrest the man. Rick had still work to do.