[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 515 - Arriving Early at the Spencer Mansion

Wind howled past his ears.

The arthropod's shock absorption was surprisingly good. Aside from the occasional jolt crossing a ravine, the ride stayed smooth.

It ignored terrain entirely, cutting straight through brush, over abandoned vehicles, heading in a direct line toward the Arklay Mountains.

Walkers along the way made the mistake of getting close. Leon didn't bother steering. The Scorpion King didn't even slow down, just snapped a pincer and sent half a torso spinning into the treeline. Everything else got trampled flat under its legs.

That was dominance.

Leon rode with the night wind in his face, in a mood that, for once, was almost good.

When pale light began bleeding into the horizon, the terrain shifted.

Flat wasteland gave way to rolling hills.

The Arklay Mountains.

The Scorpion King eased its pace.

The trees here were packed too tightly. Its massive frame couldn't move freely, and its pincers kept scraping tree trunks, throwing off a grating, tooth-grinding screech with every pass.

Leon rubbed his chin.

Close enough.

He reached into his mind and found the node that belonged to Ada.

The point of light sat steady. No sharp emotional spikes. She was safe.

"You awake?" Leon dialed through the neural link.

A few seconds passed. Then that languid voice bled through, rough with sleep.

"If I said no, would you hang up?" Ada complained.

"Terrible service. One star."

Leon shifted into a more comfortable position on the scorpion's back.

"I'm already in the Arklay Mountains. What's your situation?"

"That fast?" Surprise crept into her voice. "You flew here?"

Leon had the Scorpion King now, and that changed the math considerably. The original plan had him meeting Ada on the road as she made her own way out. Instead, he'd arrived early.

"Greener than a plane. Zero fuel consumption."

He didn't mention the Scorpion King. He'd save that for the surprise.

"What time does John's experiment start?"

"Ten in the morning," Ada said.

Leon ran the numbers.

"I should reach the Spencer Mansion perimeter around nine. Fair warning though, I'm not planning to knock this time."

"What are you going to do?" A note of wariness sharpened her voice.

"Make some noise. Obviously." Leon gave a quiet laugh. "Just follow your extraction route. I'll handle external security."

"Don't do anything stupid," Ada said. "There's a Patrol Squad on the perimeter. A few hundred free-range zombie dogs too. Don't pull the Tyrant out early."

"Zombie dogs?" Leon patted the shell beneath him. "Perfect. I brought a pet. Let them get acquainted. It's been starving anyway."

He cut the line and tapped the Scorpion King's head.

"Move faster. There's meat up ahead."

The Scorpion King's pincers clacked together twice, sharp with excitement. Its legs churned faster, and it bulldozed a path straight through the dense forest.

A barbed-wire fence appeared ahead. Yellow warning sign hanging off it: Private Property. No Trespassing. High Voltage.

The high voltage had been a decoration for a long time now.

The Scorpion King drove straight through it. Rusted wire tore apart on impact.

Crossing that line meant they were inside the Spencer Mansion's security perimeter.

Leon narrowed his eyes. His five senses, sharpened by the T-virus, were running hot.

He caught it, a faint trace of blood in the air. Not the rotten, festering reek of Walkers. Something else. The distinct scent of mutated biology.

A faint rustle from the left.

"Stop." Low, flat.

The Scorpion King killed its momentum instantly, legs driving into the earth, locked still.

Two dark shapes ripped out of the fog at speed.

Zombie dogs.

Bigger than any large-breed dog, their fur entirely gone, red muscle and white ribs exposed to the air. Thick saliva swung from their jaws in ropes.

They'd come out hunting. But when they tore through the fog and got a clear look at the enormous black scorpion in front of them, both dogs hit emergency stops right there in the mud, claws digging four deep furrows.

Their eyes went wide.

What the hell is that?

The Scorpion King didn't care what they were thinking.

It had gone days without eating. Right now, it wasn't being picky.

A black pincer snapped out like a lightning strike, clamping around one zombie dog's midsection.

CRACK!

The sound of bone shattering carried clearly through the silent trees. The dog was cut clean in two.

The second one took one look at that and ran, tail tucked, already mid-turn.

The Scorpion King's tail stinger drove forward in a hard thrust, punching straight through the dog's lower back and pinning it to the ground.

Leon sat on its back and watched the whole thing with a yawn.

"Eat fast. We're on the clock."

The Scorpion King let out a pleased hiss and got to work on its not-exactly-lavish breakfast.

Leon checked his wristwatch.

Eight-thirty.

Ahead, deep in the fog, the Spencer Mansion's sharp Gothic roofline was already faintly visible.

The Scorpion King ate quickly, crunching through bone and meat with loud, rhythmic cracking. When it finished, the big creature looked more alert than before.

They pushed forward.

About 500 meters from the Spencer Mansion, the trees opened onto a broad slope.

From here, the entire complex spread out below.

3 watchtowers ringed the perimeter. Searchlights carved slow arcs through white fog. Fully armed Umbrella mercenaries moved along the tops of the walls. Automated machine guns were mounted at intervals.

A small military fortress, point for point.

Leon dropped off the scorpion's back.

He untied the four blue plastic barrels lashed to its sides, carried them up the slope, and pried them open.

The leeches inside began climbing onto him immediately, spreading across his body until he was completely covered.

He still didn't know for certain whether he could take bullets. This was insurance.

"Stay here." Leon gave the Scorpion King its orders. "Do not show yourself without my command."

"If anyone in black comes running your way, disappear. If you see a woman in red, she's one of ours. Leave her alone. Clear?"

The Scorpion King swayed its pincers in what might have been understanding. Its massive body sank flat against the dirt, and then, pulling from the surrounding terrain, it simply vanished into the environment.

The mimicry was something else.

Backup sorted, Leon rolled his wrists loose.

For an operation at this level, his body was the weapon.

He slipped silently into the shadows below the slope.

He tracked the searchlight sweeps, timed his approach, and pressed up against the Spencer Mansion's outer wall.

4 meters. Electrified barbed wire along the top.

For an ordinary person, that meant finding a door or digging.

Leon stepped back twice, then drove off his legs.

The dirt exploded under his feet as he launched straight up.

One hand caught a protrusion just below the wall's edge. Core torqued. His body rotated through the air, clearing the high-voltage wire by a fraction, and he came down light on the grass on the other side.

The Spencer Mansion's back garden was absurdly large.

Fountains long dry. Hedgerows cut into bizarre, twisting mazes spread in every direction.

Two mercenaries with assault rifles were working along the stone path toward him.

They walked and grumbled. Complaining about the weather, the fog, the pointlessness of the assignment.

Leon stepped behind a stone statue and went still.

The two men came right up to him.

Leon moved out of the shadow like smoke, both hands reaching at the same instant, one left, one right, closing around their throats.

No time to struggle.

His fingers tightened.

CRACK!

Two faint, simultaneous snaps. Cervical vertebrae.

Both bodies slid down and crumpled. Leon caught them before they hit the path and dragged them quietly into the shrubs.

Start to finish, it took seconds. Clean. Silent.

Neither man had understood what was happening before it was over.

Leon dusted off his hands. His eyes settled on the heavy iron door ahead, the one that led down to the Spencer Mansion's underground facilities.

Now he waited for Ada to move.

➤ Next: Start Making Trouble