[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 471 - So Someone Saved Him After All

Damn. Since when did riverbeds get this soft?

Could I have gone to heaven?

No. If I were dead, I'd be reporting to King Yan. That's got nothing to do with God.

That was Leon's first thought after regaining consciousness.

He snapped his eyes open.

Under him wasn't cold rock, or wet muddy ground. It was a bed. A bed with the scent of sunshine — or, to put it less charitably, the smell of dead dust mites. But at least it was clean.

An unfamiliar ceiling. An unfamiliar cabinet. Everything unfamiliar.

This wasn't the prison.

Leon's body tensed in an instant, every muscle shifting into combat mode.

He was wounded, but he didn't feel pain. Ordinary people lose their edge because of pain. He only lost his edge from overload. Fortunately, after resting, his body had come back online.

Handling ordinary threats was no problem.

Leon instinctively reached for his waist.

Empty.

The holster was still there. The gun was gone.

His heart sank. He reached quickly inside his shirt.

Empty there too.

The syringe Ada had stuffed into his hands, the one filled with blue liquid, the T-Virus sample he'd fought tooth and nail to protect.

Gone.

Fuck!

He could not lose that thing.

He smacked himself on the head. But once his body hit overload, his mind letting its guard down meant dropping straight into unconsciousness. When Ada trained him before, she'd always end up carrying him back inside. He couldn't help it.

Leon sat up.

He looked down. Someone had changed him into a clean, oversized T-shirt. The wound on his chest had been dressed, wrapped in bandages that were rough but very clean.

Looked professional.

Someone had saved him.

And taken everything he had.

Creak.

The door swung open.

A woman walked in, around thirty, wearing a heavy jacket, an old M1 carbine cradled in her hands. The muzzle hung naturally toward the floor, but her posture made it clear she could raise it and fire at any second.

Her eyes were sharp. She swept a look at Leon on the bed, confirmed he hadn't turned, then stepped aside.

A little girl peeked out from behind her.

Five or six years old. Blonde hair in two small braids. Blue eyes like glass marbles, studying Leon with open curiosity.

Leon's breath stopped.

He knew this little girl was Meghan. She died in the original show. That wasn't the point.

The point was what Meghan was holding.

A spiral-shaped metal syringe.

The blue liquid inside caught the light streaming through the window and glowed with a light that was equal parts beautiful and absolutely lethal.

Meghan had turned it into a kaleidoscope. She held it up to her eye, tilting it back and forth against the light, her mouth making little "whoa" sounds of delight.

Leon felt the blood drain out of him.

He'd rather go another round with that leech monster than watch this thing hit the floor.

"Hey. Little girl."

His throat had gone dry. He tried to make his voice sound gentle.

"That thing... can you give it back to Uncle?"

"It's pretty," Meghan said in her small, sweet voice, paying him no attention whatsoever.

She held the syringe out like an airplane and flew it through the air, making little engine sounds with her mouth.

Leon's heart was practically clawing its way up his throat.

That thing was glass. If this tiny ancestor's hand slipped once, Leon didn't let himself finish the thought.

That wasn't a shot of medicine. That was a one-way ticket to meet God. Express, priority delivery. No returns.

And it wouldn't just be the people in this room. The entire area would be contaminated. Every living person within range would go down with them.

"Meghan. How many times have I told you — you don't play with other people's things. Give it back to Uncle. Now."

Lilly reached for the syringe, but Meghan was fast. She twisted sideways, dodged the grab, and bolted off laughing.

Lilly gave Leon an apologetic smile and called back over her shoulder while she chased the girl.

"Tara said she found this on you. What is it? Some kind of medicine?"

"Yes." Leon forced a smile that looked worse than crying. "A kind of medicine. Very expensive medicine. And it's really not much fun to play with. It can hurt your hands."

He kept his voice even. "You should get it away from her right now. If it pokes a kid, that's going to be a problem."

Lilly frowned in Meghan's direction.

"Meghan. You heard him. This is precious. Stop playing with it and give it to me."

She held out her hand.

"No! It's mine!"

Meghan clutched her "toy" and took a step back, face set with pure defiance.

Then her foot caught on something.

"Ah!"

She cried out, and her body pitched backward.

Leon's pupils snapped tight.

The blue syringe flew out of Meghan's hand and traced an arc through the air that made his soul try to leave his body.

Time slowed.

Leon could see every rotation of the syringe as it tumbled end over end through the air.

It's over.

Two words. That was all his mind had left.

If it hit the floor. If the glass shattered. If the virus got out, this tiny room would become a sealed gas chamber.

Nobody would get out. Not one goddamn person.

Plop.

A soft sound.

The shattering he was braced for never came.

Leon turned his head, slow and rigid, and looked down.

The syringe hadn't hit the hard wooden floor.

It had landed on Lilly's shoe, bounced once, and rolled to a stop at her feet.

Leon felt like someone had just hauled him out of deep water. Cold sweat soaked through his shirt in an instant.

Meghan scrambled up from the floor. She trotted over and bent down, reaching for her "toy."

"Don't touch it!"

The roar tore out of him with everything he had. Raw panic and fury, no lid on either.

"Waaah—!"

Meghan's whole body jerked. The color drained from her small face, and then she opened her mouth and screamed, loud, full, relentless, the kind of crying that rattled the walls.

Lilly's expression shifted.

She stepped in front of her daughter without thinking, putting herself between the girl and Leon.

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