Chapter 30 – A Man With a Big-Caliber Attitude
"HEY! Something just rolled out!"
"Open fire!"
BANG BANG BANG!!!
The storage bin was shredded midair, cans and food packets exploding across the ground.
"Damn it—STOP shooting! It's food!"
"Careful! Could be a trap!"
The men outside shouted in confusion, guns swinging toward the tumbling plastic bin.
Now.
Hanks moved.
He didn't rush through the doorway—
He dove sideways, body skimming the floor, using a half-toppled checkout counter as cover.
His eyes locked instantly onto three survivors outside—
One crouched behind a pillar across the street.
One taking cover behind an abandoned car's hood.
The third was greedily sprinting toward the rolling storage bin.
Hanks raised his P226.
BANG!
First shot—
The bullet slammed directly into the thigh of the looter reaching for the bin.
"AHHH!"
The man collapsed, shrieking, his broken rifle clattering onto the pavement.
BANG! BANG!
Two more shots cracked out almost instantly—
Sparks burst from the abandoned car's hood as bullets ricocheted, forcing the man behind it to duck.
BANG!
The fourth round smashed into the pillar across the street, kicking up stone chips and making the last gunman recoil in fear.
Four shots.
Perfectly timed.
Perfectly placed.
No kills—but all three enemies were suppressed, pinned down, terrified to raise their heads.
Precious seconds gained.
"GLENN! MOVE!"
Hanks barked without looking back.
Glenn snapped out of his daze and scrambled to his feet, dragging the second storage bin as fast as he could toward the exit.
Inside the supermarket, the walker horde finally surged past the broken shelves—
the closest ones now less than ten meters away.
Hanks fired over his shoulder, dropping the two nearest walkers—
BANG! BANG!
Both heads burst.
Both bodies collapsed.
But more were coming.
"Officer!"
Glenn reached the street corner, dragging the bin behind cover.
He cursed himself for not grabbing a gun earlier—
He could've helped.
Instead he was armed with a bat, swatting at stray walkers.
"Stay down!" Hanks shouted.
Right now he couldn't move.
Lifting pressure from either side meant instant death—
either from the walkers or the scavengers outside.
BANG! BANG!
Another walker fell.
CLICK!
Empty again.
Hanks slammed in his last magazine.
The wounded gunman outside was still screaming.
The other two, terrified by Hanks' precision shooting, hid behind their cover and fired blindly into the store.
Bullets ricocheted everywhere.
PFFT!
One stray round pierced a bag of flour beside Hanks.
A white cloud burst out, filling the air and blotting vision.
"—goddamn it!"
Hanks growled, wiping powder from his face.
His eyes sharpened—feral, focused.
The worse the situation got,
the calmer he became.
The pile of fresh corpses he'd created now worked in his favor—
The walkers stumbled over the bodies, slowing their advance.
A narrow window—tiny but usable.
Hanks rolled toward where Glenn had been moments ago, snatching up his discarded screwdriver mid-motion.
Then he unleashed the rest of his magazine into the advancing walkers.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Skulls ruptured.
Bodies crumpled.
The tide slowed—just barely.
The last three walkers closest to them had their skulls blown apart, their collapsing bodies forming a barrier that slowed the horde behind them.
Now.
Hanks exploded into motion.
He didn't linger, didn't fire another shot—
He turned and sprinted toward the corner where Glenn was hiding.
His speed was unbelievable; the heavy backpack and grueling combat barely slowed him.
That agility—four times greater than an average person—
finally revealed its full, terrifying potential.
He cut across the street like a sudden gust of wind.
"STOP HIM! DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY!"
One of the survivors outside finally snapped back to reality, leaning out to fire.
But even while sprinting, Hanks weaved unpredictably—
zigzagging, shifting weight, swaying left and right—
turning himself into a nightmare target.
BANG! BANG!
Two bullets tore past him, sparking off asphalt.
Hanks didn't even look back.
He felt the shooter's position, reading the echo of gunfire—
and mid-run, he twisted his torso and fired a single retaliatory shot behind him.
BANG!
The bullet struck the hood of the car the man hid behind, spraying sparks.
The gunman shrieked and jerked back into cover.
Using that brief window, Hanks dove forward—
rolled across the pavement—
and slid behind the corner next to Glenn, gasping for air.
"Officer! Are you hurt?!" Glenn grabbed him, pale and shaking.
"I'm fine."
Hanks checked himself quickly.
Aside from being soaked in gore and white flour, he was uninjured.
At the supermarket entrance, the walker horde—now without another target—
finally poured out of the shattered doors.
And the first thing they saw…
was the wounded survivor crawling on the ground.
"NO—DON'T—STAY BACK—AHHHHH!!!"
His screams were swallowed instantly by the frenzy of snarls and tearing flesh.
The sound of chewing replaced gunfire on the street.
The remaining two survivors panicked completely.
Whatever courage they had vanished.
They pushed each other aside in terror, scrambling to escape without a backward glance.
"Move."
Hanks' eyes went sharp.
"We leave this damn place now."
He didn't waste another second on the chaos behind them.
Using the maze-like streets to their advantage, he guided Glenn through alleys and side paths.
The heavy backpacks and fully-loaded bins slowed them significantly.
But they were lucky—
most walkers were too busy feasting at the supermarket.
After several breathless minutes, they rushed into an empty residential house.
Hanks motioned for Glenn to stay back, then quietly checked the rooms.
Once he confirmed it was safe, he waved Glenn in.
They stumbled inside, dropped their gear, and collapsed against the wall.
"Haa… hah… finally… a break…"
Glenn slid to the floor, feeling like his bones were dissolving.
Hanks sat down heavily, popped the magazine from his P226.
Twelve rounds left.
"Five minutes rest," he said, scanning the doorway with wary eyes.
Glenn nodded.
He pulled a bottle of water from his pack and chugged it in huge gulps.
Hanks felt his entire body burning.
The heat wasn't from the weather—
it was the cost of pushing his ability to the limit.
Every cell in his body was overheating, screaming.
He felt like a cheetah—
able to unleash lethal speed and power,
but only for short bursts.
And that…
was something he refused to accept.
A man—
especially a man with big caliber—
couldn't be satisfied with "short."
Once they made it back, he would improve himself.
He'd develop that talent until he could outrun, outfight, and outlast anything.
"Get up."
Hanks exhaled deeply, strength returning.
"We're heading for the gas station."
Glenn groaned, but Hanks grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.
Once again, the two plunged into the trap-filled, walker-haunted streets—
heading straight for the next danger.
The gas station.