Rebecca was completely stunned and terrified by the sudden turn of events. She shoved Max back, her instincts taking over as she raised her gun and pointed it at him.
"Why did you do that?!" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and shock.
Max held his hands up cautiously, watching her reaction. He forced himself to stay calm, knowing that Rebecca might shoot him out of reflex.
His eyes flicked to his gun, lying on the ground where it had fallen when she pushed him. Slowly, he raised his arms higher, signalling that he meant no harm, though he knew convincing her would be difficult.
"Miss, don't shoot," he said, his tone measured and calm. "I mean no harm."
Rebecca, still trembling, wasn't listening. Her voice wavered as she stammered, "Why… did you shoot him? He wasn't doing anything to you! He even helped me!"
She couldn't comprehend why Max had suddenly attacked someone who had been on their side—someone who had saved her not long ago.
Max sighed, frustration and tension lining his face. He hadn't wanted to do it either, but the situation had left him no choice.
"I get it. You're upset. I didn't want to kill him either," Max began, trying to steady his nerves. "But you saw it—he was bitten by those things. If we left him alive, he would've turned into one of them and attacked us."
He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing.
"Billy was trained, Miss. A military veteran. If he had turned, none of us could've stopped him. His instincts alone would've been deadly."
Rebecca's grip on her gun faltered slightly, though disbelief still clouded her expression. She needed more than words—some kind of proof.
"How can you be so sure?" she asked, her voice quieter but no less firm. "And how do I know this isn't just some personal grudge you had against him?"
Max inhaled deeply, his mind racing. Rebecca would never trust him if she thought he had killed an innocent man, infected or not.
'Damn it,' he grumbled inwardly. He had to make her believe him, one way or another.
After a moment of hesitation, he replied, "I'm John, a researcher from the Umbrella lab nearby. I've seen it happen—my colleagues were bitten and turned into those things. And Billy… he wasn't innocent. He was a convicted murderer. He killed 23 civilians."
Max watched Rebecca's reaction carefully. He was banking on the fact that she had heard about Billy's past through her captain's radio transmissions.
He hoped the mention of Billy's crimes would validate his story.
"I'm reaching into my pocket for my ID," Max warned, keeping his movements deliberate and slow. "Don't shoot."
Rebecca's eyes stayed locked on him as he retrieved his ID. He tossed it toward her, making no sudden moves.
She caught the card and inspected it cautiously. The identification confirmed him as a chief researcher with Umbrella.
Rebecca's grip on her gun loosened as she processed the information. She remembered hearing about Billy Coen's crimes—he had been convicted of killing multiple people.
And the man before her wasn't just anyone. A chief researcher's words carried weight, and if what he said about the infection was true, she would have to be more careful moving forward.
But even as her tension eased slightly, doubts still lingered. Umbrella wasn't exactly a name she could trust.
Rebecca lowered her gun, though she kept it loosely in hand—ready, just in case. Max exhaled quietly, allowing himself a faint smile.
"Thanks, miss… um, I don't think I know your name."
"I'm Rebecca, a member of S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team. We were sent to investigate this place, and somehow… I ended up here," she replied, approaching him cautiously.
Max nodded, already familiar with the situation but pretending otherwise. As she narrated, he retrieved his gun from the ground and checked the remaining bullets.
Without a word, he moved toward Billy's body, stepping past Rebecca. She frowned, confused by his actions and unsure of his intentions.
Max stood over Billy's lifeless form, steeling himself against guilt. Without hesitation, he fired another shot into Billy's head. The sound echoed in the room—sharp, final, and jarringly loud in the silence.
Rebecca flinched at the sudden gunfire, taken aback. But this time, she didn't question him. She was beginning to understand.
She hadn't come here naïve; her training had prepared her for harsh realities like this. But living it was something else.
Max turned back to Rebecca, feeling slightly more composed now that the immediate threat was neutralised. He met her gaze, and for a moment, he thought about her story.
At just 18, Rebecca was petite, young, and surprisingly resilient. No one would've believed that this seemingly fragile girl could survive the zombie-infested training facility, much less kill the mutated Queen Leech in the process.
And then she had gone straight to the mansion the next day.
Before Wesker's Alpha Team even arrived, she had already been navigating this deadly game of survival. It was clear that the protagonists of Resident Evil were far from ordinary.
Max noted her behaviour toward him. Unlike how she had treated Billy, she seemed less wary of him, probably because he didn't carry the label of a criminal. But a part of her still wasn't sure about him—he could see it in her eyes.
This encounter had taught him an important lesson: the events of this world were shifting. Billy's infection was proof that things weren't following the game's script exactly.
It was a sobering wake-up call. He couldn't rely entirely on his game knowledge. Even the protagonists, for all their strength and bravery, weren't guaranteed survival.
And now, with Billy—arguably their strongest ally—gone, Max realized he couldn't depend on anyone but himself.
His frustration was palpable. 'What a mess,' he thought with a sigh.
"We should leave this place," Max suggested, glancing at Rebecca, who still seemed tense from the recent events. She nodded in agreement, knowing staying any longer wasn't safe.
Just as they turned to leave the restaurant, a low humming sound began to grow outside the carriage.
Both of them stiffened, instincts kicking in. Guns raised, they exchanged a glance, silently bracing themselves for whatever was coming next.
….
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