Resident Evil 6 Leon’s Campaign Episode 2 |The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

🧩 Helena Harper’s Personal Log — Entry 02: “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round”
👥 Involved Operatives: Agent Leon S. Kennedy, Agent Helena Harper
🕯️ Recovered from: Field Recorder Data — F.S.O. Archive

The car crash didn’t kill us. The sewers almost did.

With no other way to reach Tall Oaks Cathedral, Leon and I went underground — into the dark, damp tunnels that smelled like every bad decision humanity ever made. “It’s going to be a tough road,” Leon said. He wasn’t wrong.

Hunnigan warned she’d lose contact once we were below, but she’d “still be tracking our movements.” Comforting words for people who might end up as a GPS signal with no pulse.

The subway system was a death trap. Trains screamed past, missing us by inches. I swear one nearly took Wolf— Leon —off his feet. The infected were everywhere, staggering through live wires and setting themselves on fire like human torches. When our flashlights cut out, my heart stopped. The darkness swallowed everything. For a few seconds, I could almost hear the city above us dying.

A horde waited in the next tunnel, lit by the flicker of a flashlight. We fought through waves of them, their shadows crawling across the walls like nightmares with shape. Inside a derailed train, I boosted up first, only to be ambushed. Missed me by inches. Leon followed after I unlocked the door, and together we cleared the cars. Corpses sat in the seats like passengers waiting for a ride that would never come.

At last, an exit sign — Tall Oaks Cathedral. We were close. A woman trapped in another train begged us to help her find “Peter.” we got her out of the train car only to have the moment she opened the next door she was devoured. I detonated a remote bomb I’d set earlier, reducing the horde to a pair of smoldering leftovers. Small victories.

Hunnigan’s voice came back: “You can reach the street level from here.”

Leon asked about conditions topside. the response: “Hell on Earth isn’t much of a stretch.” She wasn’t exaggerating.

The city was chaos — fire, screams, and the smell of burning fuel. A half-turned firefighter swung an axe at Leon’s head, and I dropped him before the blade made contact. Then a car tore down the street like Leon’s previous driving lesson, slammed a hydrant, and set off an alarm. Strangely, the infected scattered. Leon muttered, “Feels like the tip of the iceberg.” We really had no idea.

We ducked into a bar called Modern Red to regroup, then through a house where a family sat motionless, the news still flickering on their TV. The key to the back door was in the one of their pockets. He wasn’t quite as dead as we hoped. I handled it. We found a shotgun too — the only good news all night.

The streets beyond were choked with wreckage. A screamer alerted a nearby pack, and I put the new shotgun to good use. Leon boosted me over a locked gate, and I cleared the path. Every alley smelled like death and oil.

Survivors were holed up at a gas station, barely holding the line. We joined the fight — until an ambulance plowed through the barricade and nearly flattened me. Armored infected climbed out, spraying bullets. Gasoline ignited, and the world went red-hot. When the smoke cleared, we were alive.

We made it to a gun shop, where the owner shouted from upstairs that he wouldn’t open the door until the down bwlow was “clear.” We fought wave after wave while he enjoyed the show. I warned Leon when a zombie nearly took his head off, and I’m not sure he heard me over the gunfire. One survivor lost his nerve, stole a gun, and bolted — straight into the jaws of poetic justice.

The fight dragged on. A hulking, licker-like creature joined the fray with more armored infected. Shotgun shells, grenades, and stubbornness kept us alive long enough for the shopkeeper to finally let us upstairs. The moment the shutters slammed down, Leon and I just looked at each other — we could’ve used those five minutes ago.

The shop owner said a bus was on the way, headed straight for the Cathedral. Hope on four wheels — what could go wrong?

Then came the 600-pound nightmare. A wall of meat and rage that Leon so eloquently described as “they come in extra large now” We dropped it, but two more showed up. The third one actually lifted the bus. We unloaded everything we had.

The shopkeeper didn’t make it. Neither did most of the others. But the bus rolled on, burning rubber toward the Cathedral.

I couldn’t resist. I said, “The wheels on the bus go round and round.”

Leon groaned. I smiled.

Rank A for me. Rank B for Leon.

I’ll let the numbers speak for themselves.

— Helena Harper, F.S.O. Field Journal — Classified Entry 02