Chapter 121: Army Effectiveness

“That’s what I like to hear!”

Zolyah grinned while occupied with her scope. Her body shifted instinctively; the crosshair snapped to its first target.

She squeezed; the recoil nudged her shoulder.

The round zipped through the distance and punched through the zombie’s chest. It staggered three steps closer—then it dropped.

“Contact, one hundred meters closing!” Big Rhino’s voice cracked through. “Snipers, thin the runners!”

Zolyah chambered the next round; she inhaled and held it long.

A zombie sped along the highway, weaving erratically from side to side.

She lowered her aim slightly and counted.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Bang!

The corpse collapsed and slid across the asphalt, burning the surface of its rotting skin.

“Good kill, Eagle One,” Mason—one of the Machine Gunner units—called beside her.

“Aim for the quick ones. I’ll take care of the rest.”

He slammed his palm against the M249’s feed tray and leaned into the weapon.

Like a switch, the SAW roared wildly in the night

Tracer rounds rained down from the watchtower, sieving corpses one bullet at a time.

Mason swept over to the right flank, finger never leaving the trigger.

Bursts of fire instantly downed the first line. Then the next. And then—the tray clicked.

“Reloading!” he shouted, sweeping the empty box aside.

His deft hands quickly re-attached a new string of bullets into the tray. Another slam came another round of endless fire.

Bodies folded in rows, yet their numbers seemed to never decrease.

“This is Eagle One,” Zolyah spoke in the comms. “Horde density has increased. Requesting missile cover!”

“Roger that, Eagle One,” Viktor, a Missile Infantry unit, replied. “Hunter One deploying missiles.”

He swung his launcher and shouldered it over. As he knelt, the fabric tensed under the launcher’s weight.

His helmet HUD blipped several times, locking in at the large cluster of zombies near the center.

“Firing.”

The missile hissed loudly on launch; a trail of smoke swirled high into the skies. A moment later, it crashed diagonally to its target.

Fire and explosion swallowed the area; the earth and asphalt lifted off in a split second.

Shockwave tore the space apart; bits of flesh splintered around like a broken glass.

When the dust settled, a small crater was left behind. What started as a group of twenty—now, only two remained.

Big Rhino’s gunner watched through the screen.

“Direct hit,” he said flatly. “Send another one.”

Viktor set down his launcher, placed the missile pack on the floor, and grabbed another high-explosive round.

While busy doing so, another Missile Infantry knelt down not far away. Markus followed Viktor’s steps; he waited for the HUD to settle for a target.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Markus grunted and squeezed on the trigger. The missile flew off; the backblast burned on the concrete.

The payload roared like a dragon from the skies, opening its mouth to swallow another cluster of the undead.

The blast shocked the earth once again; the flames burned brighter than the last.

“Good effect, Hunter Two. Waiting for another blast.”

For a moment, the entire compound was painted in an orange hue.

Behind the sandbags, the Conscripts and Army Soldiers watched in silence.

Their rifles remained steady; eyes sharp forward.

No one cheered. No one spoke.

The firelight reflected off calm faces—some young, some hardened by weeks of survival with the Commander.

An Army Soldier adjusted his grip on his M16.

“Watch the flanks,” he shouted. “If anything steps close, shoot them down.”

The front ranks of the infected reformed beyond the smoking crater.

“They’re endless…” a Conscript muttered.

“Range, two hundred meters!” A nearby scout called.

“Steady!” another barked.

The Conscripts lowered into kneeling formation. Safety clicks disengaged in unison.

The machine guns above them continued their own rhythm. The missiles blasted groups of undead left and right.

But now—now it was their turn.

“Fire!”

The MP5 SMGs rattled into action. Rounds struck any target they found.

Heads popped like balloons, leaving mangled brain matter at the cavity.

Torsos sieved to no end, unending until what stood no longer stood.

Legs torn to despair, forcing those who were hit to crawl in the mud full of blood.

“Crawlers,” a Scout shouted. “Lob some grenades!”

Army Soldiers buckled into attention. Their hands tugged the grenade off from their chests.

They scanned the ground, looking for a target.

A patch of grass shifted slightly, snapping the attention of Elise.

She pulled the pin and stretched her arm wide.

The grenade made an arc; it landed two inches beside the crawling zombie.

The zombie stopped, but it was too late. The explosion sent it tumbling sidewards; its scarred face filled with shrapnel.

As the first grenade went off, another followed not long after.

First—the crawlers.

Second—the clusters.

Third—nothing.

Nothing remained at the frontline.

A mountain of corpses formed in front of the living—some were battered, some were pierced, some…were left only in bits of flesh.

Zolyah’s vision went past the natural barrier, her scope itching to latch into a suitable prey.

Frustration welled up; her eyes only caught one common zombie to another.

Just as she wanted to give up—at the edge of her scope, a familiar flash of green appeared.

Gotcha, she sniggered with excitement. “Biler spotted. Two o’clock.”

Her back sharpened into place. Her arms tensed into an angle. Her fingers heated up into action.

The biler lunged a meter to another. Its figure blurred in the darkness, barely revealing its bright green liquid.

Zolyah held her breath. In her mind, a trajectory formed.

Left. Left. Left. Right. Left.

Her finger rested on the trigger; the crosshair already centered where the biler would lunge next.

She squeezed.

The M82 cracked loudly in the battlefield.

The biler’s senses stood high on edge, but it could no longer stop in time. Like a willing puppet, its body jumped straight into the .50 Cal.

The round punched straight into its bloated belly and tore a hole on its back. Green liquid spilled to no end; the earth slowly corroded to dust.

The biler skidded on the ground for three meters before coming to a stop.

Zolyah’s scope rested at its corpse. A wide smirk formed in her face.

“Biler down.”

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