[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 553 - The Real World

The rotor wash from the helicopter flung the ground dust up in all directions.

Chris dropped out of the cabin and turned to look beyond the high walls.

The ash-grey Tyrant was hauling tons of stone, moving back and forth along the edge of the Leech Moat.

Over a thousand Walkers dug tirelessly in the mud pits below.

The scene was utterly surreal.

The ultimate bio-weapon that had driven them to the brink of death in the Spencer Mansion was now doing hard labor here like an old workhorse.

So this was what Leon had built.

Jill slung her tactical rifle over her shoulder and looked around.

Survivors worked the vegetable plots. The Patrol Squad marched past in formation, weapons in hand.

Order. Discipline.

In a world stuffed full of Walkers, this was nothing short of a miracle.

They took a brief tour of the prison. No Fort Benning dollar currency here, everyone ran purely on barter. Simple, direct, with its own set of exchange rules. They even caught sight of low-grade bullets manufactured right there inside the walls.

Absolutely insane.

Before long, Leon returned with Wesker in tow.

Rick and his men took custody immediately and marched him away.

Leon's orders were clear: solitary confinement, lowest level, a specially reinforced cell built for one. Round-the-clock surveillance from every angle. No one came within a step of that cell without his explicit command.

The old fox was carrying secrets enough to fill a book. They'd squeeze them out slowly.

And Leon needed to be sure, completely sure, that he had Wesker locked down tight. Only once he was certain Wesker couldn't slip the leash would he even consider giving the man any room to move.

The group followed Leon up to the office on the top floor of the Administration Building, right next to Leon's own room.

Wide leather sofa. Solid wood desk. A half-finished glass of bourbon sitting forgotten on top of it.

Chris slammed his ballistic helmet onto the desk.

"Sons-of-bitches."

He paced the carpet, jaw tight.

"Everything in those cultivation tanks beneath the Spencer Mansion — all of it was built from living people."

"And that bastard Wesker wanted to use us for data collection."

"I'm going back to Fort Benning."

He stopped pacing. His eyes went hard.

"I'm going to use every communication channel at the precinct. Broadcast William's recordings. The experimental data. All of it."

"I want Congress, the National Guard, everyone — to know exactly what kind of filth Umbrella Corporation really is."

Barry sat on the sofa with one hand propped under his chin and said nothing.

Joseph, blood running hot, threw his voice in behind Chris without hesitation.

"That's right! Expose every last one of them! Tear the whole rotten thing wide open!"

Leon leaned back in the office chair, pulled a cigarette from the pack, and lit it.

Pale blue-white smoke curled toward the ceiling.

"And then what?" He exhaled a slow ring.

"What do you mean, and then what?" Chris frowned.

"Then you'll find out the communications tower at Fort Benning was cut off a long time ago." Leon's voice stayed even. "Whatever data you broadcast gets intercepted by Umbrella's moles inside the military. After that, you get labeled — traitor, theft of classified material, terrorist. Take your pick."

He held the cigarette loosely and pointed it at Chris.

"The next day, the National Guard surrounds the precinct and throws every one of you into a black site." A beat. "Or they just arrange a traffic accident somewhere along the way."

"Chris." His voice dropped, flat and direct. "You know this world's darkness better than anyone. You know I'm telling the truth."

Chris went still.

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

Jill leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, the sunlight cutting across her short hair.

"Leon's right." Her tone was cold. "Umbrella's reach has already worked into every layer of everything, politics, the military. Their people are everywhere." She didn't move from the window. "What we're holding could never reach the public. Go through proper channels and we won't even know how we died."

Chris drove his fist into the wall.

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do?"

"Just swallow it? Pretend we never saw anything?"

"I can't stomach this."

Leon pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and ground it out.

"Can't stomach it?" He stood, walked to the desk, and braced both hands on the surface. "Good. Then we don't."

"One person's strength has a ceiling. A single squad's strength has the same ceiling."

➤ Next: Ashley Wakes Up