As they left the sickroom and made their way toward the central corridor, Carlos muttered, "Better grab some gear. Sounds like there's a lot of them coming."
Arlo nodded. "No such thing as over-prepared." He split off, heading down a side hall that once served as a medical supply route. Inside a small janitor's storage closet, he scavenged a few half-full bottles of isopropyl alcohol, some gauze, and torn linens. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to do something useful and potentially destructive. He got to work fast. In the breakroom nearby, Arlo found leftover bottles, even a couple small glass beakers. Using the alcohol and cloth, he fashioned ten homemade Molotovs—crude, but effective. Old-school problems required old-school fire.
As the glass clinked into his bag, he thought, If they come packed together, these will cook 'em faster than bullets can drop them.
After finishing the Molotovs, Arlo pulled out his herb pouch from his inventory system. He ground one green herb and one red herb into a fine powder mix using the back of his knife and the edge of a metal tray. He repeated the process four more times, producing five doses of powdered green+red hybrid—far more portable and easy to administer.
He muttered, "Should've asked Maria how to refine this better... if anyone could upgrade this formula, it'd be her."
The thought of Maria—their alchemist back at Ataraxis—flickered through his mind briefly. Not nostalgia. Just strategy. As he was capping the last vial of herb powder, Carlos approached from the hallway with a map folded in hand.
"We've got maybe five minutes," Carlos said. "Tyrell's got a plan—he's gonna try to hack the hospital's security systems. If he can force the shutters down on the ground-floor windows, that'll limit entry points."
Arlo stood up. "Which buys us time, not safety."
Carlos nodded. "Exactly. We need to block the entrance at the lobby. You set fire to the group of zombies outside window lobby if you can."
Arlo pulled out two Molotovs and handed them over. "Ten total. You take these two, I'll hold eight. If they get too close, light the floor up."
Carlos accepted them without question. "What's this?" He pointed at a small pouch Arlo tossed to him—fine red-green powder sealed in plastic wraps.
"Healing powder," Arlo replied. "Crush it in your hand and apply it in a wounded area or take it orally. The effect is similar to first-aid spray."
Carlos examined it with suspicion. "This some black market stuff?"
"Nope. It's just better than dying. And I wouldn't hand you anything that'd screw us over," Arlo said dryly.
Carlos tucked the pouches into his vest. "Right. Thanks."
Arlo scanned the room one last time. No movement. No time left for refinement. He looked at Carlos. "This is going to go sideways. Fast. But as long as we delay them long enough for Jill to recover, that's a win."
Carlos tightened the strap on his rifle. "Understood."
They both moved to the lobby—Arlo starting to prep the Molotovs in strategic locations. Window sills. Entry points. One bottle tucked into a janitor's mop bucket like a trap. Improvised warfare at its finest. Carlos began dragging tables, benches, and filing cabinets to block the hall entrance.
Arlo glanced back as he poured a trail of alcohol in front of the emergency exit. "You got any grenades?"
"No. But I got some explosive," Carlos said. "I'm saving them for the welcoming party."
***
[Spencer Memorial Hospital: 1st Floor - Lobby]
The first sign was the vibration. Then came the noise—shuffling, groaning, the familiar low moan of the undead in numbers. Then the glass of the lobby windows began to rattle like it was caught in a storm. Arlo didn't flinch, but he didn't relax either. He lit one of the Molotovs.
Carlos gritted his teeth. "Okay… now the fun shit begins."
The glass shattered. Zombies poured through the broken windows like water. Carlos opened fire instantly, dropping two in rapid succession. Their bodies thumped against the floor, twitching. Another crawled over them, arms outstretched.
Arlo hurled the first Molotov out the window. It burst on impact—flames exploded outward, catching a tight cluster of undead. Groans turned to screams as fire engulfed them.
"Molotovs are working," Arlo said. "Let's see how long it buys us."
Carlos stayed near the left barricade, shooting clean and steady. Arlo positioned near the main entrance, timing his throws. Every flame sent the horde into disarray, but it wasn't enough. For every one that burned, two more pushed forward.
"Shit, they're packing in tight," Carlos said. "Still too many."
Arlo hurled another bottle and ducked down. "I'm down to two."
The flames lit the lobby like a war zone. Smoke mixed with the sterile scent of disinfectant. Gunfire echoed off the walls. Arlo took out his shotgun and began firing at anything that got too close to the barricade.
Boom!
Boom!
Click. Reload.
"Still coming," Arlo muttered. "What's Tyrell doing up there, playing Sudoku?"
Just as the second-to-last Molotov shattered, the radio crackled.
"Carlos," Tyrell said, voice strained. "Maybe knock the pillar down with that explosive! Bring the whole thing down on them!"
Carlos looked at Arlo. "That could work."
Arlo pointed at him. "Give me the detonator. While I cover you."
Carlos didn't argue. He handed over the explosive trigger and moved to provide suppressive fire. Arlo pulled the last Molotov but kept it holstered—he needed both hands for this. Shotgun at the ready, Arlo dashed forward. Zombies reached through the windows, clawing toward him. He fired point-blank at one, its head snapping back violently.
[EXP Gained +100]
Flashed in the corner of his HUD. Arlo reached the pillar Tyrell had referenced. It was thick, old concrete—structural enough that knocking it down would collapse half the entryway. He crouched, attached the explosive base, and started the sequence.
Behind him, Carlos shouted, "Left flank! They're pushing hard!"
Arlo turned and fired. Boom. Another zombie dropped.
[EXP Gained +100 EXP]
Another got too close—he shot it in the knee, then again in the face when it fell.
Boom!
[EXP Gained +100 EXP]
Two more lunged for Carlos—Arlo pivoted and dropped both before they reached him.
Click. Out.
Arlo cursed and reached for his sidearm. "Cover me!"
Carlos nodded, unloading his rifle at the crowd. "Just a few more seconds!"
Arlo drew his Pit Viper, aiming fast and shooting faster. The recoil kicked, but the precision was on point.
Headshot.
Headshot.
Headshot.
[EXP Gained +300]
Still, more kept coming."Carlos!" Arlo barked. "How much longer?"
"Almost done!" Carlos called back. His hands flew over the charge's interface. "Ten seconds!"
Arlo kept shooting. A zombie made it over the barricade—Arlo kicked it back into the flames and it screamed as it burned."Better hurry!" he shouted.
Carlos snapped the final wire into place. "I'm done!"
"Then TAKE COVER!" Arlo grabbed the detonator, dove behind an overturned desk for cover, and slammed his thumb onto the button.A second passed. Then a roar. The shockwave from the explosion thundered through the lobby like a war drum. The structural pillar cracked violently, then shattered—concrete and steel collapsing in a chain reaction. More debris followed, falling like dominoes. Dust billowed out as parts of the ceiling caved in.T
he result was chaos, but it worked.The front entryway had become a wall of rubble. The horde behind it was crushed, trapped, or cut off entirely.
Carlos and Arlo emerged from behind their respective cover points, weapons still raised, breathing hard. Smoke lingered in the air. The moans had stopped—at least for now.
Arlo surveyed the aftermath, gun still tight in hand. "That should do it."
The radio on Carlos's shoulder crackled to life. "Carlos! Are you guys alright?" Tyrell's voice sounded more stressed than usual.
Carlos glanced at Arlo, who gave him a subtle nod. "We're alright. Entry's sealed. We're clear... for now." While Carlos kept talking to Tyrell over the radio, Arlo's HUD flickered—rows of system notifications scrolling across his vision.
[EXP Gained +9700]
Arlo blinked. Huh. Guess the last kill really does get the payout. He didn't bother to hide his smirk.
Carlos turned to him. "You good?"
Arlo shrugged, voice calm despite the ringing in his ears. "Still alive. Ears are trashed, but I'll manage."
Carlos gave a dry chuckle. "That'll pass."
They moved back toward the makeshift sickroom—pushing past broken furniture and bullet-ridden walls. The trail of blood had gone cold. For now, the hospital was quiet again. Tyrell was waiting outside the sickroom door, checking the nearby terminal.
As they entered, Tyrell looked up and said, "Vaccine's the real deal."
Carlos nodded. "Good."
Arlo didn't speak. His eyes immediately shifted to Link, who stood faithfully near Jill.
Arlo knelt down and pet Link's head. The rockruff gave a happy bark, tail wagging.
"Good job," Arlo said quietly. "You kept her safe."
Link responded by licking Arlo's glove, then sitting at attention again like the soldier he was trained to be.
Arlo scratched behind Link's ear. "You earned a full meal after this."
While Arlo and Link had their quiet moment, Carlos turned back to Tyrell. "We need to make a call. Tell the government we found a cure. Stall them. Buy us time."
Tyrell shook his head. "You're assuming they'll listen."
"I don't care if they listen," Carlos said. "We just need a time."
Arlo stood up. "And I'm not done yet."
Carlos looked at him. "What?"
"I'm going with you," Arlo said flatly. "We need to find more of the vaccine. One dose helps Jill. But there are others still alive in this city. Maybe."
Carlos frowned. "Stay here. Jill needs protection. She might wake up disoriented. We need someone she trusts nearby."
"Jill's condition is stable. She's safe—for now. The best way to help her is making sure this cure reaches more people." Carlos considered it, eyes shifting between Jill and Arlo. He exhaled, finally nodding. "Fine. But if she wakes up, you better believe she'll want an explanation."
Tyrell muttered, "You guys are crazy motherfucker!."
Arlo looked over his shoulder with a smirk. "Tell us something we don't know."
Carlos laughed dryly. "Come on, then."
They exited the room, stepping back into the corridor still glowing from emergency lights. The atmosphere felt like the eye of a storm—quiet, but temporary.
Carlos pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Before the attack, I found something—maintenance logs and old schematics. There's a hidden passage behind the generator room. It leads to a freight lift."
"A cargo lift?" Arlo asked, already intrigued.
Carlos nodded. "I think it leads to an Umbrella secret facility. Underground." But in Arlo's mind, Its probably NEST 2 is an off-shot of the main nest and based to what he remember in the game the NEST 2's primary function was to develop fail-safes against Umbrella's products, such as vaccines for biological agents and anti-B.O.W. weapon systems, in order to keep said products under control and facilitate their weaponization.
Carlos stared at him. "Let's go follow me"
Arlo looked ahead down the hallway. "Lead the way, Carlos"
***
[Underground Storage: Outside the NEST 2]
The cargo lift groaned as it descended into the earth, shaking just enough to remind them that everything in Raccoon City felt like it was one malfunction away from collapse. The single hanging light overhead flickered. Dust and concrete flakes drifted downward from the shaft walls.
Arlo leaned against the side, arms crossed with his gun, the pit viper."This lift should take us straight into that Umbrella facility," he said.
Carlos glanced at him. "Still betting it's a secret underground facility?"
Arlo nodded. "Unless they built another secret bunker between lunch breaks. This is it."
The descent was long—uneasy silence filled the space between them. Arlo finally broke it."We should split up when we hit the bottom."
Carlos turned to him, visibly annoyed. "Split up? Are you serious? That's how people die in every horror movie."
"This isn't a horror movie," Arlo said evenly. "It's worse. We've got one day before this city gets wiped off the map. We cover more ground separately."
Carlos ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. "Fine. But don't die down there."
Arlo smirked. "Don't worry. I've got backup."
Link gave a cheerful bark and wagged his tail, completely out of place in the heavy atmosphere.
Carlos smiled despite himself. "Godspeed, man."
Arlo bumped fists with him. "You too. Keep breathing."
The lift reached the bottom with a hiss of hydraulics. The metal doors creaked open to reveal a dim, cold hallway lined with exposed pipes and flickering red emergency lights. They stepped out. The floor was polished metal, but scuffed with recent activity—boot prints, drag marks, maybe blood. The place wasn't abandoned.
Carlos turned left. "I'll check the storage labs. You check the upper labs and data terminals."
Arlo nodded. "Watch your six."
Carlos jogged down the hall and disappeared behind a heavy steel door.Arlo lingered at the junction, taking a second to orient himself. The facility was massive, and his map only gave a general layout. He moved cautiously down the opposite corridor, avoiding loud steps, listening for movement.He passed several rooms filled with different cargo, broken equipment, and shattered glass. No sign of recent human life, just the echoes of failure.
A faint snarl echoed through the vents. Arlo paused and ducked behind a metal locker. A shadow passed behind the reinforced glass of a nearby containment room.
"Great," he muttered. "This place still has pets."
Thanks to his Clown's Bodily Control, Arlo moved silently and efficiently—no wasted movement, no unnecessary steps. It wasn't stealth. It was pure natural athleticism. He slipped past the hallway unnoticed.
Eventually, he found the Surveillance Room. One working terminal still hummed with weak power, surrounded by knocked-over chairs and flickering monitors.
Arlo booted the system and navigated through its half-functional OS. Most files were corrupted or encrypted, but one stood out—Activity Log: Sept 27–30.
He opened it. The entries were short, precise, and disturbing information starting before, during, and until now.
Arlo's eyes narrowed."Agent 'N'... That's Nikolai," he muttered. "Bastard's logging data to sell it. Using the outbreak like it's a stock market."
As he turned to leave, one monitor flickered back to life, showing a still frame of a camera feed—blurred footage of Jill, unconscious on the hospital cot.Someone was watching.
Arlo clenched his jaw. "So Nikolai's still got access…" He left the surveillance room and returned to the hallway. The next corridor was long—lit by emergency red strobes and flanked by half-open security doors. It led toward the NEST 2's main entrance, sealed but still powered.
Arlo knew the design. From the game, sure—but this was the real thing. He moved forward, boots echoing on the metal grating. As he reached the end of the hall, a sound behind him made him stop—something fast, slithering in the vents. He didn't turn. He just spoke softly. "Link. Stay sharp."
The dog growled, but didn't bark. Smart move.
Arlo continued to the secured door and tapped the control panel. It blinked yellow—access denied.He pulled out the stolen ID card from the hospital and tried again.Access granted.The metal door hissed and slid open.
Beyond it was the true heart of NEST 2. Dark corridors, biotech labs, cryotubes, and more containment units than he could count. All of them empty… or recently emptied.
Arlo stepped inside, gun raised. "Time to learn what they didn't put in the game."