Resident Evil. Retribution Read Online Free PDF

bat out the window and climbed through, dropping to the grassy backyard where Becky was crouching, whimpering, small hands balled into little white-knuckled fists.
    “Stay close to me!” Alice signed. Her heart was hammering, though no stalkers were in sight. The fear, the spurting adrenaline, her thundering pulse— it was all just the backdrop of life, now. It went on and on, like a maddening car alarm that wouldn’t shut off.
    She took Becky’s hand, and scooped up the baseball bat. They ran to the wooden side gate that led to the front of the house. She could hear sirens, a whole lot of sirens. Maybe the police would be out in the street, or the National Guard—someone who could help them. Maybe Todd would be out there. And maybe he’d be alright.
    Maybe…
    She kicked open the unlatched gate and they went through, stopping at the front corner of the house, where they stopped to stare at the street.
    The quiet, sunny suburban neighborhood had been transformed into a war zone. At least half the houses on the street were afire, huffing smoke and flames. She heard the crack of gunshots, and screams. Two cars, unoccupied and abandoned, were locked in a smoking death grip of twisted metal at the corner. A cop car raced by on the cross street, sirens warbling.
    Alice opened her mouth to shout to them—but they were already gone.
    She saw an older woman she knew, Mrs. Grady, running barefoot across the street a few houses down. They’d exchanged recipes, and June Grady had given her a cutting for some flowers in the backyard. Now Mrs. Grady was running for her life. And the Undead who pursued her… wasn’t that her husband Raymond? He was tottering monomaniacally after her—and yet he’d been in a wheelchair for years, unable to walk.
    The Undead Raymond leapt and tackled his wife, and she went down screaming as he gnashed at the back of her neck.
    Becky made that frightened, unconscious whimper again as she watched Raymond Grady tearing into June with his teeth. Alice covered the child’s eyes with a hand, pressed her close.
    She saw others, at the end of the block, running from the Undead: an old man running from an old woman; a woman running from her twelve-year-old daughter; the Reverend Granger, naked from the waist down, chasing another man, his choir director. The Reverend’s arms were extended, fingers clutching…
    And there seemed to be simply nowhere to go from here.

4
    Alice heard a gurgling snarl coming from the backyard. The Undead had climbed out the window. There was no going back, and there was no staying here—either way they would find her. And Becky.
    Strange—how all this wasn’t entirely strange. There was a distant resonance of familiarity, almost déjà vu quality about it all. She knew, somehow, that the bite spread some kind of infection—it killed, and then it resurrected, but what it raised up was soulless, ravening, and existed only to feed on human flesh. It was a kind of inverted, diabolic mockery of the resurrection of Christ.
    The opposite of a savior, arisen…
    But how did she know all that? She shook her head, trying to clear it, wasn’t sure of anything— except that she had to find somewhere, someplace that was safe—where she could protect her daughter.
    Alice took a deep breath—then, head swimming, she took Becky firmly by the hand, and, half dragging her, led the way to the street. She had a vague notion of finding an empty house, one not already overrun, something she could barricade.
    Just get to that house, across the street. It’s not burning, it looks quiet. Ignore the screams. Don’t look…
    From her left a car horn blared, jarringly close, and Alice turned to see a Prius bearing down on her, a young dark-haired woman behind the steering wheel— the car’s wheels screeched as the woman slammed on her brakes, and Alice was frozen, overwhelmed, clutching Becky to her…
    The car skidded to a stop, the bumper two inches from Alice’s left hip.
    A young