Hmm, what if… here goes nothing! I tossed the stick lying nearby as inconspicuously as possible—since no one was looking in my direction—glancing toward the city, and a muffled "Ah!" came from the neighboring bushes. So the red glow wasn't just my imagination after all. I'd begun to doubt this feature; who knows, maybe it was just some kind of glitch in a virus-infected brain seeing phantom glows, and in reality people wouldn't always be where I perceived them. Yes, I had that fear when I threw the stick, because if things went wrong, I could've been exposed. To be blunt and honest, I was slightly afraid of failure.
And meanwhile, a reporter jumped out of the bushes opposite me! There you go! What luck.
"And here's the cat!" said the partner of the soldier who had been walking toward me before the civilians approached with satisfaction, while the journalist—covering the portable camera hanging on his chest—was saying something about freedom of speech.
Excellent. Now part of them was looking toward the city and even farther away, while the rest focused their attention on the journalist. Good luck staying alive, and sorry, "knight of the pen and ink," for the setup. You're unlikely to survive after such a filming, but thanks to you, I'll get into the city without running around and wasting more time.
With a burst of speed, my blurred figure slipped under the barricades on the road, right at the very edge of visibility. The journalist's eyes widened in fear—normal vision could still catch me if you knew where to look and got lucky with the timing—but he didn't have time to say anything. A couple of soldiers had already raised their rifles and opened fire on the reporter, or whoever he was.
I allowed myself to straighten up only when I was already in the city, hidden behind a building from the vigilant "border" guards. Phew, the first mission was complete.
Hello, Raccoon City.
Heh, I didn't make it here before dawn after all, but at least I had breakfast… No, this self-irony is getting annoying.
***
Interlude. A short excerpt from a message to headquarters.
… Today we discovered two nimble infected outside the barricade. Both subjects were eliminated, and our scientists assigned to such cases conducted a superficial examination. Both zombies carried an increased dose of the T-virus and were at a stage higher than the usual infected—the so-called "Crimson Heads," as our operatives have nicknamed them.
Our scientific department also notes that the mutation in them had been initially underestimated. More precisely, according to their assessment, the entity that infected them is at a much higher stage of viral evolution, while the zombies themselves have degraded with the change. Both bodies were sent under guard to the nearest laboratory for detailed study.
Additionally, operatives who followed their trail report that there must have been at least one more infected individual at the site. This is because both of these subjects were exposed to the virus on this side of the barricades. After examining the scene, a hole in the wall of a house was also noted, and there is suspicion that one Tyrant passed through the perimeter. Photos from the scene are attached…
… In the evening of the same day, the barricades were breached from the outside. Survivors claim it was done by a girl. This may indicate another type of infected. Please increase the number of teams guarding the perimeter.
***
Heh, I got lucky. I was watching the police shootout with the zombies with great interest. The police were winning on points, but in the overall melee, the zombies were the clear favorites. Somewhere off to my side, explosions started going off. Awesome! Especially when seen from the roof of a five-story building. I wasn't about to save everyone and everything, and people showing gratitude to a monster… that's already in the realm of mysticism..
I'd been in the city for quite some time now, but I'd suddenly encountered a problem—I had no idea where to go! Not a clue! So, I decided my task was to find someone who knew the way, but the trouble was that looking for any of the protagonists of the series in a huge city was quite the challenge. No, I could trust the strange call drawing me toward the forest, where a half-ruined mansion was visible—fortunately, I could see it easily from the hilltop thanks to my eyesight. But this feeling of kinship mixed with a call for help and something alluring does not inspire trust in me.
Still, it was almost lunchtime, and I'd been here since dawn with no results. So in another fifteen minutes, and I'd have to jump into a possible trap. What if the entrance to the Hive was right there?
Over the past fifteen minutes, the zombies had finally finished off the police, but the firefight to the left of my building showed no sign of ending. In the gap between the buildings, I caught a glimpse of the standard uniforms of Umbrella operatives, and I didn't notice anyone familiar from canon, although I saw everyone, since it was quite easy to pick out the red outline of the figure. Just as I was about to jump farther, I was stopped… by a tongue.
Ugh, damn it, what a mess!
I caught the tongue flying toward me with my hand, and something resembling a head peeked out from the opposite edge of the roof. Why "resembling"? Well, imagine the upper part of a head being nothing but exposed brain all the way down to the nostrils, and below that—reddish-brown skin and a decent-sized mouth, from which the tongue had shot out.
I pulled it toward me, and the Licker—because that's who it was—left a trail of claw marks behind as it slid across the surface, resisting me, the bastard! Heh, and when he wasn't moving, his posture somewhat resembled a frog's, except that he had an almost human body and human proportions. But because of his elongated front limbs (which couldn't really be called arms, not with ten-centimeter claws), it was easier and faster for him to move on all fours. Actually, I doubted he could stand up at all, since his hind limbs had also changed, and their structure most closely resembled those of a frog.