Umbrella Surveillance System
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Chris Redfield The mood has been sombre to say the least in the last week after the bioterrorism attack in Paris left the country as well as the world stunned. It wasn't directly Umbrella this time that caused it but an attack on Umbrella itself by eco-terrorists that was the catalyst. However, the resulting aftermath of this tragedy still grips Paris in an almost tangible web of fear. The Quartintine Zone is almost 8 blocks from the epicentre of the Umbrella HQ building and not much news is getting out about what is going on inside. The Police and the French Government aren't commenting on any specifics, saying that there is still an ongoing investigation, that there is high risk for radiological and biological contamination and that the public has to stay out of the area.

There have been rumors, of strange activity going on in the lower catacombs near the Quarintine Zone and some brave citizens, who ventured down there before the Police as well as the military have blocked it off have said they heard strange guttural animal like noises, seen shuffling of what looks like people down there and one person even said they heard gunfire. That one witness, said that some English speaking American told him to stay away, just run and not come back. He described the man as wearing the uniform of a soldier, carrying lots of guns and was dark haired, muscular build.

Are the rumors true? Could there be more than meets the eye down in the lower catacombs and could someone down there be waging a one man war against the denizens that have escaped the Umbrella Building? Who would be foolish enough to venture down here to explore? Could that be why you are here?
Poncho      Down, down. Beneath the bustling city of Paris. Through winding tunnels stacked with bones. The lowest catacombs are a place that no reasonable person would wish to enter. Only the very brave, and the very foolish would dare do so alone.
     Perhaps it says something of the missing man that he had done just that. If so, the same must be applied to the tallish, armored figure in the tattered grey poncho. For just like the spiky-haired soldier, he has been hunting the beasts that now roam these deepest of tunnels. Most often alone, but not tonight.
     Limping down the center of a rubble-strewn corridor, Poncho plays his shotgun-mounted flashlight over fractured bits of yellow bone and chunks of the tunnel ceiling that were shook free by the recent blast. His booted feet crunch through the debris in a steady if uneven rhythm, a methodical scuff then scrape as he drags his right leg along. His soft, steady breaths filter out through his gas mask, a constant audio queue of where he happens to be.
     Unlike most every other night, he isn't alone.
     The details as they were explained to his young companion were as follows: 'This is how you point a gun. Don't put your finger on the trigger till you're ready to shoot. Don't point it at anything that you don't want dead. Don't cock it until you're ready to kill something. Now, kid, let's go kill some monsters.' Because obviously the best way to teach someone to shoot is to throw terrifying monstrosities at them in a live fire situation, underground, where bullets are bound to bounce. Still, she wanted to do something. Where there is a will, there is a way.
Hunter Hunter had been struggling with whether or not she should check out the catacombs for a while now, but tonight seemed to be the end of that struggle. Armed with the revolver that the ol' man had given her, they actually had a mission. The man from the night of the bomb, the one that had been in charge, was missing. Rumours had been circulating of a man matching his description down in the tunnels of the catacombs, and he wasn't exactly alone. Whether or not it actually was Chris was up for debate, but Hunter had a gut feeling that it was. That was what they were here to figure out.

The revolver was heavy in her hands. It was almost comically too big for her, but true to Poncho's teachings, her trigger discipline was on point. The teenager wore her signature skeleton-print hoodie with the hood down so she could hear her surroundings better. The steady scuffing of Poncho's bumb leg soothed her nerves slightly... especially after she had seen him in action back in the Umbrella HQ.

"What d'you think is down here?" Hunter asked the poncho'd man quietly, her voice echoing uncomfortably in the tunnels.
Chris Redfield Poncho and Hunter have so far managed to avoid any detection from the Police or Military who have been patrolling in this area of the lower catacombs. There have been some close calls, but the dynamic but odd duo have been lucky or perhaps it is their ninja like skills that have deftly enabled them to avoid detection up to this point.

The skulls and bones that line the walls of the lower catacombs is unnerving to say the least. The upper Catacombs were creepy enough, but down here the shadows seem darker and the air thicker, harder to breath and the rumors of this being the most haunted place in the world because of the millions of souls who are buried here doesn't help matters. There are numerous areas here that are dangerous, the footing is unsure, moisture and puddles are everywhere as well as thick cobwebs. How anyone could survive down here is anybody's guess, much less even before the Umbrella Building blew up and possibly dumped some experimental creepy crawlers that have a hankering for brains down here.

The catacomb tunnel that the two of you are currently in, is rather winding, snaking to the left and right within only a few dozen steps and it is extremely difficult to see around the bend even with flashlights. Suddenly, what sounds like footsteps can be heard coming from up ahead. They are getting closer and you can see what looks like a glimpse of a beam from another flashlight heading your way.
Poncho      Poncho's initial response to Hunter's murmured question is a grumbled 'Hrrrrm,' the sound devolving into harsh rasping through the tubes of his gas mask. Without the contraption on the old fellow is unsettling enough, but once he is suited up his cool attitude is transformed into something hard and inhuman. He does not ignore her, however. One does not ignore one's partner.
     "Zombies." Poncho rasps, his distorted voice hacking through the stuffy gloom and darkness. If he is intimidated by his surroundings, it does not show. But, Poncho really doesn't -do- fear, so it is likely no surprise. "Worse things. Umbrella experiments. You saw them tubes."
     Another couple of limping steps are taken before sounds and motion from up ahead grab the X detective's attention. Calmly, and without warning, he reaches forward to flick off his gun light, stepping forward and to his right to brace his shoulder against the wall. As he goes, little bits of bone and rock are kicked from his path, and one boot splashes down into a puddle. But despite the noise, the action is taken quickly and efficiently, the armored warrior nestling his shoulder in deep between two musty piles of bones, old webs draping heavily across his neck and back.
Hunter Yes, she had seen the tubes. The unsettling part was, unlike Emma, unlike most everyone around her, she had never actually seen what was IN those tubes. Ever. They could be dog-zombie-human hybrids for all she knew. The only context she had were the savaged corpses of the terrorists back in the lab; it had looked like some kind of wild animal attack on steroids, and it had definitely not been any animal she had ever seen.

Hunter hm'd quietly in response to Poncho before cluing into the commotion up ahead. The teenager heard it first, the heavy footfalls creating an echo in the tunnels, but her eyes caught the light of a flashlight beam and that was all she needed. As if she were used to hiding from people with flashlights in the dark, Hunter crouched down and pressed herself against the wall of the tunnel. Her hoodie was black, and even had bones on it, so helpfully it would help her hide in plain sight. The revolver in her hands was quickly ushered behind the dark fabric so that the flashlight wouldn't catch it in the dark.
Chris Redfield "Did you hear that?" A male voice says in English, as the footsteps get closer and the flashlight in the man's hand starts illuminating the tunnel where you are both hiding. The light beam falls at Poncho's feet where the footsteps have stopped. Hunter was extremely well hidden where she was.

"I don't know. It's creepy as fuck down here and that report we got from the last patrol of some dude running around leaving a trail of blood must be dunk." A second male voice says with a french accent. "I think you mean, bunk as in fake. Not dunk, that is a basketball term Francois." The first male voice says with a chuckle. "This damn patrol duty sucks balls. I didn't join the FBC to walk around stupid tunnels, looking for stupid civilians or lost tourists. I joined to fight zombie fucks." The first male voice, with a slight Texan accent if one recognizes such would guess.

Francois replies, "Your crazy, John have I told you that today yet. Quit talking, hard enough to think down here and keep alert. Lets go left down here, the right path has been blocked off when the tunnel collapsed. Just happened recently, I think." The footsteps then start heading farther away, the beam from the flashlight is gone and their footsteps as well as voice fade into a dull echo a minute later.

It is all dark yet again in the tunnel where the both of you are hiding.
Poncho      For an extended moment, the FBC agents' flashlight hovers just before Poncho's booted toes. If they were paying any more attention they'd likely note the vague outline of his armored form against the wall, or pick out the straight lines of the shotgun braced across his chest. But the old man holds completely still, and apparently that is just enough to avoid drawing their eyes to his position.
     The light bobs away around a bend, and for roughly 30 seconds Poncho stands there in the pitch darkness, listening to their chatter as it moves further and further away. Only once he is sure the men have gone does the light at the end of his gun bloom, and he shrugs off of the wall with a brief backward flick of the beam to locate Hunter.
     Grunting, he turns away and returns to the task at hand, limping onward around the bend. Sweeping his light around in search of the collapsed tunnel, he moves forward to investigate the area, attempting to determine what might have brought the area down. The recent explosion?
Hunter Hunter held her breath as the two men searched. The beam got maddeningly close to the old man's boots, enough so that she wanted to get the drop on them before they could be found out, but her gut told her to stay put. Listening to her gut had never failed her before, and as it turned out, it didn't fail her now. The two FBC agents wandered by while talking about killing zombies, and Hunter was glad because she couldn't hold her breath that long. 10 seconds after they left, Hunter finally drew in a breath, rising in one fluid motion and returning her revolver to its ready position.

"Yer pretty shit at hidin', ol' man, y'know that?" She said as loudly as a whisper would allow as she scanned the area. The incident of almost getting found out had raised her adrenaline, and keen eyes darted around the area as Poncho's flashlight brought everything into the light. Oh. Well... that was bad. The teenager moved a few feet away and crouched, motioning for Poncho to bring the light over so she could see better. Blood droplets on the wall... someone had leaned on it, and fairly recently; this blood was relatively fresh. It couldn't have been older than a couple of hours.

"Oi, Poncho. Check this out." She motioned to the blood and how it continued down the trail towards the collapsed tunnel. "I hope it ain't Chris'."
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell was down here on assignment from Wesker, due to the fact that Chris was important. Chris and Wesker were the best shipping partners after all. He looks around through the night vision of his OICW weapon and begins to search the area, sweeping it by himself after the other FBC agents get through with it. He spots the blood and kneels down next to it, checking it's freshness. "Chris?" he asks to himself. William begins to move further down the tunnel, grunting and adjusting the straps on his helmet. "Maybe he is dead..and this is a waste of time." he shakes his head, can't think like that, think positive.
Chris Redfield The collapsed tunnel, that Poncho and Hunter went down isn't fully collapsed and there are many loose rocks that aren't boulder sized that could be moved if they so choose. However, the stability of these lower catacombs are suspect to begin with, aged with the passage of time and doesn't have the same care or repair that the upper catacombs have received due to it being a tourist attraction.

Hunter was right though, her keen eyes and alert senses did detect a blood trail that lead this way and possibly beyond or perhaps the poor person the blood belonged too met their fate right here.

William was patrolling in a different part of the lower catacombs and radio communication down here was spotty at best. There is a crackle on the radio, a transmission but it isn't clear and it sounded like a hiss or scream but it is hard to tell with all the static. The tunnels are spooky, dark, claustrophibic and have cobwebs but all these are nothing comapared to what some have gone through in their lives, especially the FBC since some of them are ex-S.T.A.R.S. like, William himself.

The blood droplets are on the ground, but that is all Caldwell finds down here. Nobody answers the question he posed to himself but as he rounds the corner, he detects something more on the ground up ahead, more blood and a lot of it as he steps closer.
Poncho      "I ain't usually the one hidin'." Poncho grumbles back, drawing in a relaxed breath as he comes to a halt in the center of the intersection and checks the tunnel the two cops so recently went down, then the tunnel they came from, his light panning across walls and ceiling. Then he sweeps it once over the rubble before him, taking in the piled formation, the walls to either side, and a dark gap of space at the top of the pile where someone might be able to climb over.
     Hunter's request draws his light back down toward the ground, focusing on a spot at her feet where liquid droplets have darkened the dusty stone. And, at her motion, he follows the direction indicated, playing the narrow beam of light over the trail as it is pointed out to him.
     Once more he is left shining his light on the rubble.
     "Hrmph." Poncho grunts aside to Hunter, the lenses of his mask fixed on the loose pile of stones. "Blood trail, ceilings fallin'. All these FBC down here, and ain't none of them found shit. Probly a good bet he's tucked up behind somethin' like that pile of rocks. Mayhaps he's flat under em. Either way, we godda look."
     Limping a couple of steps back, the aging detective activates the safety on his shotgun and holds the light steady on the pile of rubble.
     "Holster the pistol, kid. Need you to climb up, then I'm gonna pass ya this shotty so you can get a look on the other side. I seen you scamperin' 'round. Should be easy."
Hunter WHat Poncho was saying sounded pretty accurate given the information they had so far. There was a small wince when he mentioned that Chris might be flat under those rocks. Hopefully he had made it clear before they had come down, or maybe this wasn't even his blood? Who could really tell?

When Poncho laid out his plan, Hunter nodded. The revolver was holstered and she quickly scampered up the rock pile so she could potentially see beyond it. The street rat leaned back slightly and accepted the shotgun from the old man, pointing it so that she could see beyond the rocks. "Please don't be dead, please don't be smushed, please don't be zombie food..." she mumbled to herself as she did a quick scan of what she could see using the flashlight from the shotgun.
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell continues moving down the dark tunnels. His OICW at the ready because there was probably something down here, but no matter what it was, he was more terrifying. William continues making his way through his patrol route when the radio goes off, his eyes widen as he realizes that was probably a scream or hiss of pain, meaning his comrades were probably in danger. As such he picks up the pace, once rounding the corner he raises his firearm and prepares himself for the worst. "If you're human come out now." he says into the darkness.
Chris Redfield When, Hunter scampers up the rocks, a few loose one's come free and tumble towards Poncho but they just land at his feet without much fanfare, as he hands the shotgun over to her successfully before she clears some more rocks out, then finds an opening large enough for her to squeeze through to worm her way to the other side. What she first see's is darkness, then the shotgun's flashlight illuminates a tunnel similiar to the one that you just came from but when you shine the light downwards, there is a man leaning, no more slumped over against the catacomb wall. He's not moving, dressed in a bloodstained uniform, he has dark short spikey hair, his face is caked in dry blood and there is a nasty cut across his forehead. The man is also wearing some sort of combat armor covering his torso, elbow and knee pads and has an assortment of weapons on him, like a heavily armed soldier. You also notice he's laying in a small pool of his own blood.

What startles Hunter more, is when the flashlight beam illuminates the rocks just underneath her when she emerged from the small opening, there is a body of creature trapped underneath the rocks it is nothing like she has ever seen before, not even in her worst nightmares could she possibly have imagined such a thing. The rocks have covered what is the lower half of it's body, but what she can see is that it's head is like a giant eyeless brain, with an open mouth full of razor sharp teeth and a long muscular tongue with a barbed sharp thorn on the end of it lolls out of it's mouth. The two arms that can be seen from it end in clawed hands, it doesn't appear to be moving either and it is also has a pool of blood underneath it.

William, keeps moving down the tunnel and he steps over three humanoid bodies, dressed in tattered clothing and they look like homeless people but from their skin, it looks rather decayed, some have bite marks across their throat or on their bodies and all three have knife wounds through their face or head. Whatever killed them did so in a swift and efficient manner, someone who is obviously trained in blade or knife combat. A few more droplets of blood, are found in the tunnel ahead and you also see what looks like spent bullet casings from an assault rifle. William keeps pressing onwards, there is no more static or reply from the radio.
Poncho      "Stay sharp, tell me what ya see." Poncho rasps up to Hunter upon relinquishing his heavy gun, seeming content to turn his back on the girl and face the branching tunnels around them. He does not mind the odd rock that tumbles down from the pile to roll around his heels, nor does he draw another weapon from about his person. For the moment he simply stands, eyes toward the darkness, and guards the girl's back.
Hunter This kind of thing was what she was good at. It was hard to keep her out of blocked off places, and she had even picked a few locks in her short time on this Earth. With a light thump, she landed on the other side of the rocks... and immediately wished she haden't. THe metallic smell of blood instantaneously filled her nose and she almost gagged while the flashlight swept around the room. There on the floor was a man who looked like death warmed over. He also looked like Chris. Hunter gasped and was about to kneel next to the poor man when she saw what was under the rocks. What in God's green Earth was this fuckin' thing?! Her mouth went dry and even if she tried to speak, she doubted she could. It had no eyes, it's head was mostly an exposed brain, and it looked like it could kill a man in 15 seconds flat.

"Fuck!" Her voice was hoarse, and fear was evident in her tone. Okay, Okay calm down Hunter. Poncho gave you an order, focus on what he said. The teenager took a few calming breaths. "T-There's a dead.... THING, under the rocks! Chris' here too, he's hurt pretty bad. There's... there's a lot o' blood, Poncho." For a moment she sounded like what she was; a teenager who wasn't trained for this bullshit. Quickly she knelt next to Chris and felt for a pulse, using her other hand to gently tap his cheek. "Oi, wake up Soldier, yer not dead yet!"
Prestige William Caldwell William steps over the bodies, not even looking twice to know they were infected and swiftly excuted. He continues pressing onwards, not really sure what he expects to see now. Chris obviously wasn't here, or if he was he had long passed him. He continues prowling around looking for more of the undead to deal with. If he couldn't find Chris he could at least clear Paris of some of the living dead.
Chris Redfield Down the tunnel, where Poncho and Hunter, just came from there is a faint echo of footsteps, the pitter patter is a lot faster in cadence than the one the dynamic duo had earlier and then a yell, "HQ, this is Private Francois Ringuet, we need back-up! John, he's...he's dead! They are..." Then a short scream, then a thump and what that sound is afterwards, kinda sounds like munching or tearing. This is what Poncho is hearing on the side of the tunnel he is on.

Chris's eyes flutter open, when he gets tapped on the cheek by Hunter. His left hand instinctively, shoots up to grab her's if she lets him and in his right hand he is holding a very large Magnum revolver with an 8 shot barrel, which he stops short in midswing as was about to pistol whip her. His vision finally focuses on the teenagers face in front of him. "Shit...where am I? Who are you? What the hell happened...uugghhhnnn." Redfield groans, then points with the barrel of his magnum towards the rock cave in. "Licker...some where over there. Get out of here, before it finds you." His breathing is laboured and he tries to get to his feet, using the wall as a brace.

William, hears some voices up ahead, footsteps running and then a short scream. What he see's up ahead is chilling to the bone, well for normal people, maybe not for William because he's a Raccoon City survivor. There are three figures up ahead in the tunnel, hunched over a very still form and blood is pooling underneath the uniform of the FBC soldier, the private insignia on the shoulder denotes his rank and Caldwell, can see that the three zombies are tearing into the fresh body that was Francois Ringuet.
Poncho      "Alright, darlin'." Poncho rasps without turning his head toward the rocks behind him, "Breathe through yer mouth, it'll help, and listen. Yer checkin' Crhis, that's good. But make sure you ain't standin' where the monster might grab ya with a stretch. Umbrella critters ain't so good at dyin'. Then, I want ya to check the tunnel further in. Make sure you ain't stirred nothin' up." The words are delivered in a cool, focused tone, distorted slightly by his mask but still clearly the tone of a man who has seen all of this before. Someone who knows what to do. Someone who doesn't want her to know that the man she is checking on might suddenly try to eat her. But, there isn't much he can do now but keep her moving and thinking, so that she might have a chance to escape if things go south.
     Since when did Poncho start calling girls darlin'?
     Orders given, the armored man draws an absolutely enormous black pistol from where it had been hiding beneath his poncho, holding the oversized .50 caliber weapon in one gauntleted hand. He does not say anything about the footsteps rapidly approaching from the direction the agents went. If those turn out to be a problem, he will deal with them. In fact, the barrel of his cartoonish weapon sweeps in that direction as he steps back to stand right against the rubble pile, clearing himself from the direct path of whatever might be coming.
     The scream, well, there's no hiding that.
     "Keep sharp, kid." Poncho murmurs over his shoulder, "Ain't nothin' on this end you got to worry about."
Hunter The girl wanted to leap away when Chris grabbed her hand, but the sluggishness in his voice kept her rooted where she was. He was disoriented, confused... he needed help. Poncho's voice felt distant but she heard every word. Breathe through your mouth, check on Chris, observe the tunnel. Hunter grabbed Chris' hand and squeezed it, as if that would make him calm down. "It's me, it's Hunter! It's okay, Chris, take 'er easy. Yer hurt, but yer gonna be okay."

When he moves to get up, the wiry kid slips underneath his arm to help support him. He was heavy, especially with that gear, but she did her best to get him to back away from the... what had he called it? A Licker? "It's under the rocks, it looks dead. Jus' back up a bit, easy does it, okay?"

Hunter heard the scream from the other end of the rubble and the hairs stood on end across her neck and her arms. "Poncho?! What's happenin'? You okay?"
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell moves in towards the voices, raising his OICW and watching for a moment as the undead tear into the private. Poor bastard, he was just doing his job and trying to help people, and this was the payment he received. William raises up his OICW and lets three quick bullets into the infected that were chewing on a former co-worker. Then, he slowly walks towards Francois and checks to see if he's still alive, if he is he'll put a quick bullet into him to end the misery and suffering he was probably enduring, if he was dead, a bullet would make sure he didn't come back either. So either way Ringuet was fucked. There was no help coming for them down here, not with the radio staticy like this. He proceeds to move further into the caves, swapping out his OICW for his Samurai Edge, he had plenty of ammo for that. A quick flip of the tactical flashlight on the Samurai Edge began to illuminate the dark corners with almost as much brightness as the night vision of the OICW.
Chris Redfield Poncho hears the sound of gunfire errupting from down the tunnel, three distinct sharp cracks that any current or former military or law enforcement personnel will always recognize. It is the sound of a large calibre weapon, not a pistol or shotgun though. There is also the sound of what a pumpkin might make when it explodes, that follows each shot and again a vetran of war or policing would also recognize that sound if they have been in enough fire fights.

What Poncho see's shortly after the sound of gunfire has ended, is a flashlight beam that is illuminating down the tunnel, getting closer and closer. The crunch from the even footsteps are probably from boots, not unlinke the sound he heard earlier from the two FBC soldiers who are now probably dead.

Chris, gives Hunter a /look/ even badly injured, covered in his own blood, he still has this calm stoic expression and he gets to his feet with the assistance of Hunter. "Hunter? Damn, kid what the hell are you doing down here?" He grunts as feels pain shooting through his entire body but there is only a slight grimace that slips through his mask of stoicism. "You shouldn't be down here, this is a restricted area and a quarintine zone." He quirks an eyebrow slightly when she calls out the name, Poncho. "What? There is another person down here too?" He grunts once more, glancing around and then stares at the Licker that is trapped under the rocks. "So that is what happened." But then the sound of gunfire echos in the catacomb tunnels, he flinches and draws Hunter into a protective hug, shielding her from gunfire if it was aimed at them. "Take cover, hide. Quickly." He moves in the direction away from the Licker, closer to the wall where he will stand in front of the teenager, opening the chamber to his custom Magnum Revolver, emptying the spent shell casings and quickly reloads it with 8 new bullets from a speed loader, flicking the chamber closed with a twist of his wrist.

William's flashlight illumintes the darkness up ahead, the tunnel keeps going and then ends in a fork. One leads straight while the other goes to the right, which appears to be blocked from a rock slide.
Poncho      Head shots. Three of them in quick succession. Whoever is approaching with the light is one hell of a shot. If it's an enemy, it might be best to wait until they get a little closer, then ambush them. But if it's a friend...
     Friend? What FRIEND?
     "Sounds like the boy is movin'." Poncho rasps back to Hunter, his harshly distorted voice drifting back to her over the pile of stones and crushed zombie monster. "Good. If he ain't tryin' to eat you, we might got a shot. You work on makin' sure that monster is good and dead, and ain't playin' opossum. Then, you get him over the damned rocks to me."
     The aging man's rough voice, modulated strangely by the gas mask he wears, can just as easily be heard by Will as the girl. Clearly the man is standing just around the bend, out of sight of the flashlight and in a good position to take cover and pot shot anyone who might bumble out in front of him.
     "Now, you, with the light. Probly best if you stop and identify yourself, before I start gettin' nervous. When I get nervous, people start springin' leaks."
     Gun up, Poncho stands with his shoulder braced against the wall, listening to see if his words are heeded. If not, this has a good chance of getting ugly.
Hunter The sound of gunfire alarmed her, but she didn't have time to react before Chris had all but wrapped her protectively in his arms to protect her from stray bullets. The man was barely on his feet and THAT was his first reaction? Through her fear she could hear Poncho giving her orders again. Make sure the monster was dead. Get Chris across the rocks. Okay... she could do that.

Holding the shotgun in one arm, Hunter unholstered the revolver that Poncho had given her. Now that it was an immobile target, aiming wasn't to big of a deal. With the barrel aimed at the Licker's head, it occured to her that the sound of more gunfire might cause another cave in. Keeping the weapon pointed at the Licker, Hunter's gaze returned to Chris. "Ain't got a knife or somethin', do yah Chris? Gotta make sure this... thing is dead."
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell finishes mowing down the zombies and putting a quick knife through the dead Francois's brain. He begins to move towards the bend and stops when he hears Ponchos voice "Are you threatening me when you're the one trespassing in an FBC quarantine zone? I'm with the FBC if it'll help you get out of here sooner. Theres undead everywhere down here. I recommend getting a move on ASAP. I'll give you some cover, sound good?" he begins to adjusts his OICW and make sure it's properly reloaded and calibrated for shooting zeds, or people wearing ponchos if it comes to that.
Chris Redfield Poncho and William seem to be having a Mexican Standoff, neither knows the other and both are tough hombres each in their own respective ways. Caldwell is the young buck, genetically superior, stronger, faster and has that youthful strength on his side. Poncho has been hardened by years of experience, dark one's for the most part, lived the life of a seasoned law enforcement officer, seen things that would make most grown men cry but there is one big difference between these two. One of them, doesn't care if he lives or dies, he's already seen his life fall apart so a man with nothing to lose is a dangerous one. Hopefully, they will realize they are on the same side but the real threat is not in front of them. It comes from behind...

Francois was killed by three infected, but what killed John?

An inhuman growl, cuts through the air like a jagged knife and then more growls as the sound of mutliple footsteps comes charging towards both Poncho as well as William. Four, five and then six figures emerge from the darkness, dressed in tattered clothing, their skin not quite decayed to the point of falling off but they are infected none the less and hungry from more flesh.

Chris looks at Hunter as she asks him for a knife, nodding he holster his custom Magnum revolver, then draws out a heavy combat knife from the sheath strapped to his combat armor. He glances towards the Licker, letting go of the girl as he draws the knife and crouches low, one hand outstretched holding the knife and the other free hand open as he moves closer to the eyeless brain creature half buried under the rocks. Suddenly, that dormant tongue spasms, then jerks to the side and lashes out towards Chris. The Licker seems to still have life in it after all, it thrashes around as rocks start falling from the pile around it.

"Look out!" Chris barely avoids the tongue, his sixth sense for danger saving him once again as he dodges the deadly appendage!
Poncho      "Kid, FBC is just another god damn branch of Umbrella. Wesker is a villain." Poncho replies hoarsely, his gravely voice calm but intent. "If you wanna go fuck about with some zombies and get outta my way, that'd be just fantastic. Some of us are busy."
     The words are cold and flatly dismissive, none of the old man's jagged edges softened by his mask. But, before he can either come out from around the wall to fight, or else drop more scathing commentary on the nature of the FBC, the sound of growls and tumbling stones begins to bounce chaotically through the tunnel, and everyone is under attack!
Hunter Hunter's heart leapt into her throat at the sudden movement. NOPE THIS THING WAS VERY MUCH STILL ALIVE. It's tongue shot out towards Chris and the street rat swore internally. "Chris!"

With speed that came with purpose, the teenager hurled herself in front of the already wounded Chris and did her best to aim and shoot. Spooked by the monster, the sound of gunfire, and the fact Chris looked half dead, Hunter's shot went wide even though the thing was buried under debris. "Fuck!"
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell scowls at Poncho, he had just met this guy and already didn't like him. Insulting Umbrella was one thing, but Wesker was a good man! He'll deal with Poncho later, for now there were infected on the loose! He raises his OICW and opens fire on the group of infected, doming two of them and immediately dropping them. One shot goes wide as he readies himself for another offensive on the group of infected. He grunts and calls out to Poncho "Shoot them, damnit!"
Poncho      Every hair on the back of Poncho's neck stands on end as the zombies swarm forward out of the darkness, two of them dropping with holes in their foreheads even as he begins to shift the aim of his cartoonishly large gun. DANGER! DANGER screams his mind, but there is no fear. Only the desire to attack. To end the threat.
     As he completes his turn, three of the zombies rush past his alcove, while the fourth turns toward him. Distantly he can hear hunter and Chris struggling on the other side of the shifting rock pile. The echoing crack of a revolver.
     Stepping forward and to the side, he neatly avoids the splatter of goo that strikes the wall where he had been standing, his enormous pistol booming once, then twice, its incendiary rounds smashing against the walls and sending up chips of flaming debris.
     Continuing forward toward the fourth zombie whom stopped to vomit at him, Poncho brings his still smoking pistol down and hammers it into the creature's bicep, driving it back a step toward the wall as he fights to gain a clear shot at it. He seems very comfortable with moving right up into the monster's face, tangling with it in hand to hand combat while the other three mob Will.
Chris Redfield As the six infected charge towards William and Poncho, Caldwell opens up with his asault rifle on automatic in a sweeping motion, killing two with headshots but misses the third. Three of the infected want William for a buffet, the large young lad would feed them quite well but he's not just big but fast as well as he's able to evade their claws and bites, much to their dissapointment.

Hunter's bravery does not go unnoticed by Chris, who narrowly avoided getting skewered by that Licker Tongue but then see's the brave girl running to protect him. Her aim is off though as the revolver misses the thrashing Licker, as it just about free's itself from the rocks. It's barbed tongue, shoots out towards Chris but Hunter is in the way as she leaps in front but she manages to dodge it at the last second as her natural survival reflexes save her.

Chris doesn't waste any time, moving around Hunter then straight for the Licker as he leaps into the air and brings the heavy combat knife down on top of the eyeless brainthing's head! There is a sickening, thunking sound as his doublehanded downward swing connects solidly, the blade going all the way through and hitting the ground, it's tongue and body spasming violently out of reflex, but then suddenly it goes still. Dead for reals this time.

Already, reeling from the pain of his injuries, Redfield gets up very slowly, twisting his blade one final time before withdrawing it from the dead Licker's head and manages to get to one knee. "Tough son's of okay?" He motions towards the opening you came through, pointing at it with the tip of his knife. "Go, your friend may need your help. I'll be right behind you." He tries to get rise to his feet but he's having trouble.

Poncho fires his desert Eagle, twice the sound is very distinct from the hand cannon but he misses the two infected he was aiming at. Then he does the unthinkable, charging towards the zombies to engage in melee, using his pistol as a club and hits one of the infected in the arm, cracking the bone but now he's done them a favor, putting himself in biting range.
Hunter The way Chris just leapt into combat mode and drove the knife into the head of the creature, it made Hunter want to wretch and cheer at the same time. She still wasn't used to so much blood and death, the least experienced here, but her concern for Chris health overcame the terror she was feeling. When he struggled to get up, Hunter was immediately at his side, helping to haul him up to his feet and trying to get him to move towards the hole in the rubble.

"I dunno what's on the other side 'o the rubble, but Poncho needs help. I'mma hop over, jus' real quick. Can y'make it through, Chris? If not, I'll be back for yah, I promise!" With that Hunter scampered up the rock pile and all but dove through the opening while making sure the safety was on for the shotgun she cradled against her body. The street rat rolled down the rubble to land in a crouching position; while one arm held the shotgun, her other hand held the revolver that went of with a deafening roar towards the zombie that had gotten too close to the old man. Her aim was still off, and it hit the zombie in the junk... did zombies even have junk? Did that really count? It must have, because the zed went down as Hunter quickly looked back at the rubble pile, hoping Chris could make it through by himself.
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell continues his ATTACK ON ZOMBIEtm. Blasting the brains of another one against the wall as he gets swarmed by zombies, bit in the dongle and the throat as zombies go over him. He tries desperately to bat them off, growling in an animalistic fashion as his rage kicks in, angering him to no end "Get them off me!" he yells. He continues rumbling with the zomberinos, hoping his glorious protector Poncho saves him.
Poncho      Staring into the eyes of the infected who might, finally, be the creature that kills him, Poncho feels no fear. He knows that he wont' be able to get off another shot before it has him in its clutches. They're simply too close. Too engaged.
     At least, that is the case until a bullet whizzes past and thwacks the creature right between the legs. A horrible groan escapes its rotting throat as it crumples forward into a heap, fluids gushing out in a spreading puddle beneath it.
     Casually, Poncho stomps on the back of the downed creature's neck, producing a sickening crackle and ending the zombie's suffering. The action is dismissive, an afterthought as he swings his heavy hand cannon around to face William, and the two zombies currently savaging him.
     In an explosion of flame and smoke, the torso of the zombie currently tearing at the huge man's head splatters itself along the length of the tunnel in smoldering chunks. Its head, arms, and legs flop apart in all directions as it falls to pieces, its partner still gleefully tearing at William's lower bits with its teeth.
     Poncho's second shot flashes past just over the zombie's head, missing Will's abdomen by a hair and impacting the wall much further down the tunnel. Yet more chips of heated rock spray in all directions as the overlarge incendiary round detonates, sending vibrations pulsing back through the catacombs. .
     Meanwhile, Poncho calmly adjusts his aim down, breaths rasping slowly through the tubes of his mask.
Chris Redfield The Infected engaged with Poncho is about to take a bite of the old bastard, but when Hunter crawls through the rock pile, it barely noticed her but when her revolver went off, hitting him in his zombie private parts, he threw up in his mouth a little and since he wasn't quite a full zombie yet, that really hurt the memories of high school come flooding back as it keels over, quite dead from shame as well as shock.

The two zombies attacking William are very hungry, they want their buffet and they want it now! One goes low, biting William's junk and lucky he's got armor there or else it would have been a very bad night indeed for him as the jaw's snap shut over his privates. The other infected goes high, grabbing onto William's helmet and trying to chew his face off! But William is not your average human, he's got genetic enhancements that most people don't know about and he's able to surive this trauma when most would not.

Poncho's got death on his mind, he doesn't even move and just takes aim firing his desert Eagle twice in rapid succession. One hits the zombie dead centre mass, blowing a hole through the front and then the exit wound out the back is even larger. Blood and guts spill out onto the floor, while it topples backwards the force of the impact throwing it off it's feet and landing like a ragdoll on the ground. Only one more infected on William, the one biting down low.

Chris gives Hunter an appreciative nod, when she helps him to his feet and as she goes through the rocks to help her friends he's not too far behind. He manages to make it, then crawl through to the other side not quite as quickly as the smallish nimble girl but does succeed despite his injuries to witness the events on the other side. Poor William, poor poor William.
Hunter Keep the things out of Poncho's face so he can kill it. He had the more powerful weapon and she wasn't even sure if she could fire the shotgun he had given her. Hell, she was still getting used to the comically large revolver. Taking aim, she tried to shoot the zombie that was still munching on the... wait, who was this chucklehead? Whoever he was, he could say goodbye to his trouser snake.

Her shot again went wide and she let out a frustrated growl. She prepared to fire the weapon again, making sure she was ready of the zombie decided to rush back this way... though she wasn't sure why it would since it had a buffet over there. Seriously, chucklehead was HUGE.
Prestige William Caldwell Caldwell grips hold of the Zombie by it's mouth and unclamps it from his dongle doodle, jumping backwards and breathing heavily. Clearly the man was in pain so this wasn't good for him. He was feeling the pain of being bitten by multiple zombies. Though the infection wasn't an issue thankfully. He slowly gets himself back in position and grunts in pain, trying to patch himself up with what little firstaid supplies he has on him.
Poncho      Even while William and the zombie are wrestling, Poncho calmly lines up a fifth shot, his ridiculously large gun held extended in his gauntleted right hand while his left lifts, nudging Hunter slightly to move her out of the way. Apparently he either doesn't realize she's trying to shield his armored bulk with her body, or he doesn't care.
     Waiting for William's thigh to shift out of the line of fire, Poncho sends his first shot down range. Unfortunately, just as his finger is tightening on the trigger, Will flings the zombie away, and his shot explodes against the catacomb floor in a blast of heat and flame. But such things do not discourage the aging psychopath.
     Tracking the flailing zombie as it scrambles to its feet, Poncho's sixth round takes the beast in the right shoulder, removing the arm and nearly half the torso in a fiery explosion. The force of the blast sends the zombie sprawling, stunning it momentarily. Unfortunately for it, the tattered rags of its clothing are particularly flammable, and they go up in a sudden fwoosh of flame, transforming the briefly struggling creature into a raging inferno, which twitches, twitches, then falls still.
     "Right." Poncho grunts, thumbing the magazine from the bottom of his pistol and exchanging it for a fresh procured from beneath his signature garment, "Grab Chris, kid. Reckon it's time we left." And without a second look to Will, the zombies, the Licker, or his two companions, the old man holsters his pistol, and reaches over to snatch his shotgun back from Hunter. His body language clearly annoyed, he turns on the spot, directing the wavering beam of light down the non-burning tunnel and begins to limp heavily in that direction.