Resident Evil - Pirated Version with Modifier Chapter 46 46 - St. Teresa Children's Sanatorium

Ada's silhouette lted into the shadows between vehicles.

Ben was still slumped against the black armored truck, legs too weak to hold him. Behind them, the Tyrant thrashed inside the wall, claws raking at concrete, dragging itself free inch by inch.

"Get up!" Ryan grabbed Ben's arm and hauled him to his feet. "In the truck, now!"

Claire already had the rear door open. She pushed Sherry inside, then turned to help Marvin. He climbed into the back seat without a word, jaw clenched, blood seeping fresh through his left sleeve.

Leon stood by the driver's door, eyes lingering on the wrecked SWAT vehicle. The hood was crumpled inward, white smoke hissing from the engine block. That truck was done.

He pulled open the door and dropped into the driver's seat. Keys in the ignition. One turn. The engine roared to life.

"Everyone in!" He barked it over his shoulder.

Ryan shoved Ben into the back and climbed in after him. The door wasn't even shut when the sound hit.

The Tyrant ripped free.

Three ters of gray-black muscle exploded from the wall. Red eyes locked onto the truck as it lurched forward. It gave chase, each stride shaking the ground.

Leon floored it.

The armored truck surged ahead, plowing through abandoned cars, tires shrieking against concrete. In the rearview mirror the massive shape shrank, then disappeared into the garage's darkness.

Quiet settled over the cabin. Engine noise and ragged breathing, nothing else.

Ben sagged into his seat, face drained of color. His lips worked for a while before words ca out. "What... what the hell was that thing?"

"Tyrant." Ryan watched the road ahead. "Umbrella's mass-produced bioweapon."

Ben shut his eyes, drew a long breath, and stopped asking questions.

Marvin leaned back, the bandage on his left arm soaked through. Claire found a first aid kit under the seat and started rewrapping the wound. She kept her hands gentle, but sweat beaded across Marvin's forehead. He didn't make a sound.

Sherry curled up beside Claire, fingers tight around the rabbit pendant at her throat. She stole a glance toward Ryan in the passenger seat, then dropped her eyes again.

Leon watched Ryan's profile in the rearview mirror, quiet for a few seconds. "Where are we going?"

"St. Teresa's Orphanage."

Leon frowned. "An orphanage? Why would we go to an orphanage right now?"

Ryan pressed a hand to the inside of his jacket. Through the fabric he could feel the outline of the ARK Plan file and the G-Virus sample.

"That file." His voice was level. "You didn't finish reading it."

Leon paused, rembering the pages he'd skimd earlier in the truck. Children, experints, compatible hosts. Every word worse than the last.

"That orphanage..." Claire's voice went tight. "It's in the file?"

"Yeah. St. Teresa Children's Sanatorium. Publicly a charity. Internally, the screening center for the ARK Plan's dical branch. Most of the children flagged in that file ca from there."

The cabin fell silent.

Ben opened his eyes. His voice ca out rough. "I saw that na when I was investigating Umbrella. They marketed themselves as a corporate sponsor. Annual donations, dical teams sent in for checkups..." He swallowed. "Those kids. What were they using them for?"

Ryan didn't answer.

The truck rolled on for close to five minutes.

Nobody spoke. Marvin dozed against the seat back. So color crept back into Ben's face. Leon and Claire each held a pistol, watching the darkness beyond the windows.

Sherry leaned into Claire's side, her small body swaying with the truck's motion. Her eyelids kept drooping, but she fought to stay awake.

Ryan sat in the passenger seat, X-ray vision active, scanning every shadow ahead.

"Roadblock up front." He broke the silence.

Leon eased off the gas. The headlights picked out a tangle of trucks a hundred ters ahead. Seven or eight heavy rigs jamd across the highway, rust-streaked, a couple still trailing wisps of smoke. Wrecked sedans packed the gaps between them, forming a wall nothing was getting through.

"Deliberate?" Leon said.

"Looks like it." Ryan studied the trucks. X-ray vision cut through the steel. No horde behind the barricade. Only a narrow side road branching left. At its end, the pale outline of a building.

He opened his mouth to speak.

A zombie dog launched from the roadside shadows and slamd into the rear wheel.

The truck lurched sideways. Leon wrenched the wheel, tires screaming. The dog wasn't dead. Its body had wedged between the wheel and the chassis, rotting flesh grinding into the tire, locking up the drivetrain.

The truck started to fishtail.

"Leon!!" Claire pulled Sherry close.

Ryan looked at Leon. His expression was complicated. The kind of look that said of course.

Leon caught it. "Why are you looking at like that?!"

The truck left the road.

It snapped through dead trees at the shoulder and pitched into a shallow ditch. The world spun, glass shattered, tal scread, and their shouts were swallowed by the crash before everything went white.

Ryan was the first one out.

HP lock ant he didn't have a scratch. A smudge of dust on his arm, nothing more. He stood beside the overturned truck, looked at the four wheels pointing at the sky, then looked at Leon crawling out of the window with blood running down his face.

That look again.

Three parts resignation. Three parts I knew it. Ninety-four parts quiet acceptance that he had seen this coming from the start.

Leon wiped the blood from his face. The stare was getting to him. "What... what is that look?"

Ryan said nothing. A small sigh.

"It's fine." He patted Leon on the shoulder, his tone like he was comnting on mild weather. "I'll try not to let you drive from now on."

Leon stared at him. "???"

Claire climbed out the window with Sherry. Marvin ca next, Leon steadying him. Ben was last, palm pressed to a bruise swelling on his forehead, wearing the blank expression of a man who'd cheated death and hadn't caught up yet.

"Can... can the truck still run?" he asked.

Ryan looked at it. Three of four wheels pointed skyward, drivetrain snapped clean, engine hood peeled back and smoking.

"No."

The word was still hanging in the air when snarling rose from the highway.

The crash had drawn them. Zombies squeezed through the gaps between the trucks, crawled from the roadside shadows, shambling toward the wreck. One, two, ten. More every second.

"Move!" Ryan took point and sprinted for the side road.

Behind them the groaning swelled.

Six of them ran. Dead trees closed in on either side, bare branches lacing overhead, choking out the moonlight. Gravel crunched underfoot. Breathing got heavier.

The pale building appeared ahead.

Old, but maintained. Most windows were dark. A few on the top floor showed faint light, candle-flicker. The front doors were shut. Letters carved into the lintel, too shadowed to read.

Ryan reached the entrance and pushed.

The wooden door groaned open. The foyer was brighter than the outside, lit by old incandescent bulbs that threw a yellow wash over peeling walls and faded floor tiles. A painting hung on the opposite wall: children playing on a lawn. The fra was crooked, the glass half shattered.

Disinfectant hung heavy in the air, threaded with a faint undertone of rot.

All six piled into the foyer. Ryan and Leon threw their weight against the heavy door and forced it shut. The instant it closed, sothing slamd against the other side.

Three hits in quick succession, and the wood shuddered but held.

Ryan leaned against the door and swept the foyer. Dried blood on the left corridor wall, trailing off into darkness. Upstairs, faint sounds. Living breath.

He looked back at the others.

Sherry pressed against Claire, clutching her pendant. Ben's face was bloodless, but he gripped his pistol with both hands. Marvin held his bleeding arm and said nothing. Leon... Leon was avoiding his eyes.

Ryan looked at Leon one more ti.

This ti the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"Co on." A trace of amusent in his voice. "Let's see what's upstairs."

He turned and started up the staircase.

Behind him the pounding on the door continued, steady and relentless.

And the letters on the lintel, swallowed by darkness a mont ago, now caught the foyer light: St. Teresa Children's Sanatorium.