Leon pushed the control room door.
It was locked.
He stopped with his hand still on the knob and took a step back. He looked at the doorknob and tried to open the door again. It wasn't jammed. It was locked from the inside.
His right hand, by instinct, slid to his holster, but he restrained himself. Instead, he raised his left hand and knocked with his knuckles, three sharp knocks that even echoed in the narrow corridor.
"Is someone in there?"
Silence.
Leon waited. Counted to ten mentally. Nothing. Knocked again, harder this time, and pressed his ear to the door. No sound, no movement.
If it were a Variant or a common infected, the noise would have triggered a frenzy. They always reacted to sound.
There was definitely a person in there.
Leon took a step back and took a deep breath. He changed his tone of voice, making it deeper and firmer.
"I know there's someone in there." Leon paused. "You have five seconds to open this door or I'll blow the lock off with my Glock. And I can't guarantee the bullet will stop at the lock."
He raised the gun and aimed it at the lock. He waited.
"Five."
There was only silence on the other side.
"Four."
Nothing.
"Three."
His finger moved to the trigger. Leon aimed at the lock and adjusted his stance.
"Wait!"
The voice was feminine and muffled by the door, but he heard it clearly. "I'll open it! Just give me a second, please!"
Leon didn't relax. He moved away from the door and positioned himself tactically in the corner of the corridor, his back pressed against the wall. If it were a trap or there were armed men inside, he needed the angle in his favor.
The metallic click of the bolt turning was heard, followed by the dragging sound of the door sliding on its tilted track.
A woman appeared in the crack.
She had long, straight black hair that cascaded like silk down to her waist, framing a face with delicate features and pale skin. Even smudged with soot, she possessed a superior beauty, the kind that would have made ordinary men bend over backwards to please her before the apocalypse.
She wore a white dress shirt, now stained with grease, and dark tailored trousers. Her red, swollen eyes scanned Leon, showing fear, but not despair.
She looked at Leon, saw the gun pointed at her, and froze.
"Is there anyone else with you?" Leon asked. His hand was steady, keeping the gun aimed directly at her chest.
"No... no, it's just me," she replied, raising her hands.
"Step back. Go to the far end of the room."
The woman furrowed her eyebrows. She seemed to want to protest the rude order, but seeing the steady gun in Leon's hand and his icy gaze, she gave up. She simply obeyed and moved away, retreating into the room until she was against the navigation table.
Leon entered slowly, sweeping the room with his gun. His eyes quickly scanned the area. Indeed, there was no one else. The control room didn't seem damaged, just messy due to the boat's tilt; maps had slid to the floor and a coffee mug was broken in the corner.
Leon looked back at the woman. She was standing where he had told her, hands still raised, looking at him with a mix of fear and contained anger.
Even so, he didn't lower the gun. He was wounded, tired, alone with a stranger inside a broken, tilted boat in the middle of an apocalypse. It wasn't time to relax just because she looked harmless.
"How long are you going to keep pointing that gun at me?"
Now her voice sounded irritated, though it still trembled slightly.
"As long as I deem necessary," Leon replied, surveying the room around him.
The control room was in good condition, just slightly messy because of the tilt, but it didn't seem damaged. The System could probably fix it. The problem now was what to do with her.
She didn't seem like an immediate threat. But he also couldn't leave her free on the boat while he worked. And he couldn't just throw her out of the boat; even if he were insensitive enough not to care about her death, if she screamed and attracted the infected there, he wouldn't be able to protect himself with those injuries.
Leon made a decision.
He mentally focused on his inventory, felt that strange sensation of something materializing, and a length of rope appeared in his free hand. She was looking to the side, observing the room, and didn't seem to notice where the rope had come from.
"Put your hands forward."
The woman blinked, confused. She looked at the rope, then at Leon. When she understood what he wanted to do, she took two steps back.
"What are you doing?" Her voice rose in pitch, fear returning. "I won't let you tie me up!"
Leon didn't answer, he just waited.
"I'd rather you kill me than..."
"Alright then."
Leon raised the gun and aimed.
"Wait! Wait!" She waved her hands frantically, taking another step back and almost tripping over a map on the floor. "Wait! Can't we talk about this civilly?!"
"We are talking civilly," Leon said, without lowering the Glock. His voice was calm, even tired. "You have two options. Let me tie you up, or..."
"Fine! Fine!" She extended her hands forward, visibly trembling. "I'll let you. Just... just don't hurt me."
Leon approached, keeping the gun aimed until the last moment. When he was close enough, he holstered the Glock and tied her wrists with efficiency. He didn't tie them too tight, but firm enough that she couldn't free herself alone. He had done this before in restraint training.
He took her by the arm and guided her out of the control room, down the narrow corridor, to one of the cabins. Because the boat was tilted, it was harder than it should have been.
"Just safety measures," Leon said, opening the cabin door. It was small, a single bed, a built-in wardrobe. "While I fix the boat."
She stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared at him, incredulous.
"Fix the boat?" She let out a humorless laugh. "You're crazy? There's no way you can do that alone. Look at the state of this thing!"
"I have my ways."
Leon gently pushed her into the cabin. She stumbled on the doorframe because of the tilt, but didn't fall.
"Wait, you can't..."
He closed the door and locked it from the outside.
He heard her bang on the door and shout something muffled, but he didn't go back. There was no time for explanations.
He returned to the control room and stopped in front of the main console. He took a deep breath and opened the System interface.
[Damaged Vessel Detected: Bering 65]
[Integrity: 31%]
[Available Repair Options:]
1. Material Collection
Requires specific components: Structural Metal (x15), Electrical Wiring (x8), Sealing Panels (x6). Matter Deconstruction ability required for extraction.
2. Vessel Assimilation
Consume [Parker 2520] to restore structural integrity of Bering 65. Process irreversible. Consumed vessel will be permanently destroyed.
Leon analyzed the options. The first was impossible: even if he unlocked the Matter Deconstruction ability now, he wasn't in any physical condition to go out searching for materials. He could barely stand.
Without hesitation, he chose the second option.
Since he wouldn't be using the Parker 2520 anymore, as the Bering 65 was a far superior boat, this was the best option.
[Assimilation Initiated]
[Estimated Time: 2h 47min]
[Process irreversible. Confirm?]
Leon confirmed.
The moment he touched the mental button, something hit him like a wave.
It felt as if all the energy in his body was sucked out at once, drained by an invisible drain. His legs weakened, his vision darkened at the edges, a high-pitched ringing filled his ears. He staggered forward and had to grab hold of the console to avoid collapsing on the floor.
"Shit..."
He took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs. The dizziness didn't completely pass, but it became more bearable.
He dragged himself to the lockers on the side of the room, opening them one by one until he found what he needed.
A first aid kit.
With difficulty, he managed to perform basic first aid on himself, pouring alcohol on his wounds and bandaging his arm and chest to stop the bleeding.
The pain was hallucinatory, but it was soon replaced by a heavy, unconquerable exhaustion.
He dragged himself to the captain's chair and slumped into it. As the boat outside began to vibrate with the repair process, Leon relaxed his body.
The System interface still glowed in front of him, floating in the air, the progress bar advancing slowly.
[Assimilation: 3%]
Leon tried to keep his eyes open. Tried to watch the bar. But his body wasn't cooperating. The fatigue was a physical thing now, weighing on every muscle, pulling him down.
He closed his eyes for just a second.
And everything went dark.