These walkers were different from the ones Jason had faced before. Although those had also run, these appeared faster and more agile than any others. Unlike normal walkers—who could even be taken down by children—these were capable of killing even the most experienced soldier.
After all, an infected person was just a corpse controlled by the virus. It felt no fear and didn't react to the deaths of others around it. It ran nonstop, driven only by pure instinct.
Boom!
Rick and a group of six men burst through the door. By that time, the rest of the team waiting outside was already in position, ready to eliminate anything that emerged from the hallway.
Daniel looked at the infected closing in, and although he was trained for combat, he couldn't stop the sweat running down his forehead.
As the infected were just about to pour through the door, Rick reminded the soldiers around him:
"Throw a grenade!"
Upon hearing the order, the soldiers—already prepared—grabbed their grenades, pulled the pins, raised their arms, and hurled them with force toward the fast-approaching horde.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Dozens of grenades flew through the air and landed among the infected. In an instant, one explosion followed another. A thick black cloud began to rise from the warehouse. Through the smoke, the mangled bodies of the infected could barely be seen, flung backward by the blasts. Burned limbs and torn arms flew through the air, landing heavily around them, with scarlet blood still gushing from the wounds.
As the smoke began to dissipate, everyone realized that the ground had caved in from the power of the blasts. Around the crater's edge lay dead infected, or those whose legs had been blown off, no longer able to run.
The hallway had also been damaged by the explosions. Everyone stayed silent, aiming their weapons nervously.
But just when they thought it was over, another group of infected burst out from the rear, charging in desperation. The soldiers began to tremble at the sight of these abnormal walkers, while more came running through the breached doorway.
Seeing this, Rick's pupils contracted sharply. He lost the calm he had just moments earlier and shouted:
"Hold the line! If we fall back now, we all die! Ready the .50-caliber guns and don't let a single one get through!"
"Let's go!"
"Fire!"
The vehicles had been moved earlier, when Rick's team entered the other hallway, so they were now at some distance. But the formation was solid, and no matter what came out of there, it would be dealt with.
Rick kept firing and yelled:
"Don't break formation! Keep shooting! Someone get a Molotov cocktail ready and throw it into the hallway! Keep your weapons up!"
The soldiers understood how dire the situation was—especially those on the rooftops of the vehicles, whose faces were pale as paper. But instead of retreating, they raised their weapons and pulled the triggers furiously, firing at the infected charging toward them.
The soldiers on the rooftops also lit Molotov cocktails and hurled them with force at the incoming horde.
Crash!
With the sound of breaking glass, the cocktails shattered near the feet of the walkers spilling from the hallway. Flames engulfed them instantly. One of the bottles even exploded midair, like a fire dragon descending upon a walker's head.
However, even though the flames devoured the infected nearby, they still couldn't fully halt the advance. The horde kept charging, while the soldiers—both on the ground and atop the vehicles—sweated and flushed with effort and tension. Adrenaline coursed through their bodies.
Rick's eyes were bloodshot. He stared intently at the hallway, bullets streaking across it. Not even his holographic sight lost track of the infected's movements. For a moment, he thought it was over.
But just as despair reached its peak, the sound of rapid footsteps came from the rear entrance. Hundreds of figures in black combat suits stormed in without hesitation, joining Rick's team in the firefight.
Thanks to the reinforcements and the fire blockade from the Molotovs, the mutated walkers began to fall quickly. The combined effort finally reduced the intensity of the attack. The red-eyed figures started to thin out.
Daniel watched in awe as the reinforcements arrived out of nowhere. To his surprise, they were soldiers from the strike squad, who were supposedly stationed in Georgia.
But when he saw the S.C.T. community insignia on their uniforms, he realized they must have been training nearby. A relieved smile formed on his face.
The sound of gunfire grew louder, echoing across the entire military base.
While still firing, Rick glanced toward the back of the group. Ten minutes later, he finally saw the last wave of infected. He raised his voice to rally his team:
"Hold on! We're almost through this!"
Not everyone heard his words, but the emotion in his face was clear. For a brief moment, the gunfire intensified.
Bang!
With one final shot, the last walker fell. The AA squad moved forward and stared at the lifeless bodies sprawled from the door to the corridor. That's when the questions began.
What were those walkers that could run and leap?
Why were their eyes glowing red and their bodies seemingly unrotted?
Back when Jason was leading, this had never happened. He used to accompany them on every mission and paid close attention to the smallest details. Because of that, many had let their guard down.
What had just happened served as a warning for everyone: this is the end of the world… and there are monsters far more terrifying than the common walker.
After stepping through the corpses, some soldiers found pieces of the bodies of their fallen comrades. The images of them being dragged away returned to the minds of those present.
Rick sighed, looked around, drew his dagger, and stepped forward.
"Gather the bodies and burn them! We can't risk an outbreak!"
…
After the incident, where more than ten people died, everyone was feeling down. Thanks to the support of the AA squad—around two hundred soldiers stationed near the base—the group became far more cautious as they continued.
Rick led the way toward the cafeteria. He knocked on the door, pressed his ear against it, and listened carefully. There was no sound from the other side.
Creak~
The door creaked open. Rick peeked through the gap: no one was inside.
"Rick?"
Daniel's eyes widened, tense, alert to any movement.
"There's no one."
When Rick pushed the door open, the view confirmed it—it was empty, just as he'd said.
Jim asked with uncertainty, "Is it possible all those strange walkers have been wiped out?"
"Maybe not…"
The cafeteria was quite spacious. One of its walls was covered in glass windows, providing a clear view of the outer courtyard. Inside, however, it was a mess, with scattered military ration bags stretching from the back kitchen to the entrance.
The kitchen wasn't far. The rations here were basic, pre-packaged. They didn't taste good, but they were high in calories—just what they needed.
Rick, followed by several soldiers, headed for the kitchen. There was a small storage room inside. At the moment, the doors were open, and some boxes of rations were still intact, though many were scattered across the floor.
"This place was evacuated in a hurry," Daniel said, noticing the dropped rations. It was clear someone had let go of them while transporting supplies, with no time to pick them back up.
Just as everyone was inspecting the area, a nervous voice rang out from the entrance:
"Don't move! Drop your weapon!"