As he hobbled his way towards the station, thankful that zombies didn't develop shark-like noses for the smell of blood, he couldn't tell anymore how much of the blood staining his jacket was his own and how much belonged to the poor bar patron whose brains Jill had had to evacuate to save him.Īnd worse, that thing was still out there.

He'd managed to avoid the handful of zombies that he'd come across since, but had slipped on a rain-slicked metal fence he'd climbed over and cut his arm open. He wasn't sure his hurried warning for Jill to stay away from him had been properly heard, but staying to try again would only buy time for that monster to catch up with him. He'd run out on Jill almost as soon as she'd found him and gunned down the zombie that had been bearing down on him in the bar.

survivor who had not spent that night in the zombie-infested halls of the Spencer Mansion.īrad wasn't in a good place. Recognising it as being the same jacket Brad had been wearing earlier, she made her way quickly, but carefully, over to the front gate, thanking God that there had been no active infected to confront the lone S.T.A.R.S. She just managed to spot someone in a bright yellow jacket rushing through the front gate of the station as she emerged from the alleyway onto the main street. He'd left the bar in a hurry, and she hadn't seen him since. She thought she heard him say something about the mansion, but he'd slurred his words, as he often did when in a particularly frantic state. Jill had met up with Brad at Bar Jack, as planned, but he'd been in a panic, rambling incoherently about someone or something that was 'out to get' him. Either way, she hoped none of them had any intention of getting back up for another round. There were corpses littering the street, but whether those were former zombies or humans killed by such, Jill couldn't say.

was completely clear of infected unusual and slightly concerning, given the current state of Raccoon, but definitely a welcome change.

Enter the survival horror