The bastards just kept fucking coming.

Leon fired round after round, his ammo disappearing way too fast. Goddamn it. His muscles ached, his brain screamed for a break, and yet the horde only grew, clawing their way closer like they had all the time in the world.

His back hit a crumbling wall.

— Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Out of ammo. Out of time. Out of goddamn luck.

Classic.

Ada was gone—again—and Claire? Who the hell knew? Probably off saving someone else while he was stuck in this rotting hellhole, about to get torn apart. And of course, the whole goddamn world is on my fucking shoulders. Again.

Leon exhaled sharply, slamming his last mag into place.

— Alright, you undead shitstains, let’s fucking go.

They were barely ten meters away.

And then—

GUITAR.

AC/DC.

“Shoot to Thrill.”

Leon blinked.

— What the actual fuck?

Then came the roar of an engine.

A red SUV screeched around the corner like a bat out of hell, plowing through the horde like a fucking monster truck at a demolition derby.

Leon barely threw himself out of the way before it slammed through the remaining undead, sending rotting limbs flying.

The driver’s door swung open, and out stepped a woman—no, fucking strutted out like she owned the apocalypse.

Blonde. (Fake as hell.) Sharp brown eyes. A shit-eating grin.

And two goddamn assault rifles.

Leon, still on the ground, ran a hand down his face.

— Jesus Christ. What the actual fuck is happening right now?

The woman smirked, slinging one of the rifles over her shoulder as she walked up to him, hand extended.

— “Well, well. Leon Scott Kennedy. I’ve heard all about you.”

Leon stared at her, still catching his breath.

— “Yeah? And who the fuck are you? My goddamn fairy godmother?”

She snorted.

— “If that helps you sleep at night. Now get in, Kennedy. I’m not waiting for the next round of freaks to show up.”

Leon sighed, muttered a “Fucking hell,” but grabbed her hand anyway.

His day just got a whole lot weirder.