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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Signs (4), Atascadero
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A new variant had been discovered, so an interim report was necessary. The claymore mine had been detonated, requiring noise support as well. The radioman clutched his radio, struggling with it. Jamming was usually resolved by switching frequencies, but not this time. The radioman grumbled.
"To think a monster has such good tech."
The unit split into two for the time being. Jeffrey took the radioman and one squad in the vehicles to find a spot with comms.
In the meantime, Winter decided to search for keys to the isolation ward with the remaining soldiers. They had door-breaching gear, but smashing through countless doors and bars wasn't feasible. Both the noise and time were issues.
(Door Breaching: The act of forcibly breaking or blowing open a door.)
Still, they packed the gear. Winter chose the Halligan bar. It looked like a pickaxe with a horn on the side and a pry bar attached below the handle. Solid steel, perfect as a weapon.
"Found them."
A soldier rummaging through the police office held up a keyring. Winter snatched it mid-toss.
"Keep looking. The more, the better."
The soldiers found three more bundles. Right after, the windows rattled violently. Noise maker support. Winter checked the time, estimating how far Jeffrey had gone in the Humvee. Distance would allow back-calculating the monster's output. It was too soon for that now, though.
Jeffrey's return was later than expected. Winter secured one eastern watchtower and posted sentries to prevent the special variant from slipping out. Nearly thirty minutes passed before the three Humvees rolled in line. The returning Jeffrey explained the delay.
"The Public Health Service got interested."
The Public Health Service Commissioned Corps was a quasi-military organization under the Department of Health and Human Services, currently overseeing quarantine lines with CDC and FEMA support. They also handled intel gathering on infected variants.
"Damn desk jockeys have no sense of reality. One doctor grilled me endlessly. Didn't care how urgent it was—said I had to file the report first, by the book. Shit."
That wasn't all. Winter asked.
"So, the conclusion?"
"Capture it if possible. Kill or not, secure it first and call—they'll send a chopper."
"Making it sound easy. No other support?"
"They asked if I needed it with you here. I said no. It's already late; waiting for support would take forever. The monster won't sit pretty, and we don't have enough to surround the building. That's my take."
Rising fame had its downsides. The higher the reputation, the bigger the expectations. Jeffrey knew what Winter was thinking.
"They haven't learned from Mogadishu. That's why they're like this. Can't have idiots at the top. Whole place is stuffed with bookworm 'experts' reeking of mold."
The U.S. intervention in the Somali civil war ended in惨 defeat at the Battle of Mogadishu. They'd put too much faith in special forces, assigning impossible missions assuming success.
A heavy voice cut in.
"What if they just show up? Should've at least cussed them out on the way back."
It was the platoon's sole staff sergeant speaking. Jeffrey shot back.
"Hey, that doctor was a colonel. Who commands if I end up in the stockade?"
"No problem. NCOs are the army's backbone. And there's another LT here. Go with peace of mind."
His tone was utterly flat, no inflection. Expression blank. That's why his nickname was Bore. Marvin "Bore" Lieberman. Jeffrey looked exasperated.
"Sergeant, you're so expressionless your jokes don't land as jokes."
"Makes sense. I'm serious."
"What?"
The soldiers chuckled. Winter interjected.
"I get you don't wanna, but wrap it up. Days are short this season."
Half-joking camaraderie. As always, jokes in the face of fear marked veterans. It eased subordinate tension too. Lieberman nodded along.
"Better than our LT, as expected."
"What?!"
That wrapped the banter. Two officers and one sergeant, plus sergeant-treated privates first class and sergeants, spread out the facility map to plot movement lines. The site was too vast for lumped movement; time wouldn't suffice.
"Let's not overreach first off. Sending this force and expecting big wins is thief's greed."
Jeffrey nailed it from the start.
Winter agreed.
"Smart thinking. It tested our firepower earlier with infected babies up front. No harm in caution."
"Split by squad but parallel since there's three corridors. Enables support and link-up when needed. Relay comms—no sweat. It can detect our radio, so it'll be like herding for the kill."
The sergeant proposed while marking paths. No need to avoid even essential radio. Jeffrey nodded, jotting times at points. The privates first class and sergeants copied times and rally points for their parts. Where to meet in emergencies, when and where allies would be, etc.
Winter scanned the map, committing it to memory over tech reliance.
Investing in 「Map Reading」 now offered low returns. Without boosting 「Memory」 too, mini-map updates would lag.
"Lieutenant Han, you're central. No objections?"
"Yes. Has to be."
Accepting matter-of-factly drew playful oooohs from the soldiers. Jeffrey stood.
"Alright. Check ammo, let's move!"
Search commenced. Keys divided among Winter, Jeffrey, and Lieberman; reserves took the last bundle. Two per squad peeled off for watchtower and lobby watch, so search teams were around nine each, commanders included.
"Is it still in the ward? Might've slipped out meanwhile."
Sergeant Elliot was in Winter's squad. Jeffrey's consideration.
"It's inside. Jamming's still heavy."
Winter replied, unlocking the first sector door. To prevent rear ambush, relock after entry. Blast the lock if urgent.
Grilles dividing sections appeared often. Passing, soldiers peeked at locked side doors.
"Sir, look. The trapped ones aren't stirring."
A soldier called Winter over. The boy officer stuck to the door, wary of other directions. Peer through wire-meshed glass. Variants frozen like stills. Facing windows, unmoving.
"Dead?"
"Who knows."
Winter ordered soldiers back. Elliot looked puzzled.
"Doesn't look starved at least. Conserving energy?"
Right answer. Winter replied ambiguously.
No need to prove it.
Thunderclap. As white clouds flashed, frozen variants spasmed awake. Cling to grilles. That explained facing windows.
Amid stunned silent soldiers, variants stared out windows only. Then slowly, motion faded.
"Whoa, fuck, scared me."
Elliot muttered low.
After, all strove quieter. Soldiers mindful each step.
Corridors uniform: dark, silent. Walls crammed with rooms, no sunlight gaps. Outside noise nil too. Save thunder-triggered variant fits, only muffled boots.
Scenery shifted abruptly.
Third sector: partition door ajar. All visible doors open. Winter pulled down helmet NVGs. Green-tinted view. Key: faint crimson stains on floor.
"Lots of footprints."
"Damn it!"
Winter warned.
"Hooey. Keep voices down."
"...Sorry."
Soldiers kept eyeing Winter. Their gear lacked thermals.
Infected variants ran hotter than humans. Barefoot. Even so, fresh prints odd. Little time passed; they'd exited and moved organized.
'Where'd they go.'
Winter grabbed radio to report. Heavy static.
"Lieutenant Jeffrey. Staff Sergeant Lieberman. Hear me?"
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump. Heavy footsteps overhead, front to back. Simultaneously, radio static spiked then normalized. All looked up. Winter confirmed no comms, sighed.
"That passing overhead was our prey, looks like."
Elliot asked uneasily.
"What now?"
"Follow."
Winter dashed empty corridor. Soldiers followed in panic.
"It went back!"
"Trap."
Smart one. Noisy on purpose. Pinpointed location at radio attempt.
Uncertainty now: speed key.
Defy predictions.
Full sprint to corridor end. Next sector open too.
Obvious traces: bloodied handprints, footprints smeared on walls and floor. All southbound. North corridor pristine. Soldiers already fretted for Lieberman.
South: Lieberman. North: Jeffrey.
Static eased; radio buzzed.
"Oh, finally working. Lieutenant Han. You there? Something off here. All doors open. Might need backup."
Lieberman's voice. Winter didn't reply. Ordered radio silence from soldiers too.
"No response. It can't know our position."
"But...!"
"Order."
Pinned soldiers; Winter reactivated NVGs. Scrutinized north-south, decided.
"We go north."
Instant pushback. Won't follow sans explanation. Winter tapped NVGs.
"Invisible footprints thicker north."
"Huh...."
Realizers mixed dread and dismay.
"My God, a real trap!"
They desperately chased already-running Winter. Two corners, 80 meters, then Winter slowed.
Jeffrey hadn't reached Winter's position yet. Here's partition still locked. Individual rooms shut too.
Winter pried partition, nudged ajar to look locked.
From experience, Winter deemed foe sly as human.
'If ambushing, won't tense target.'
Why only here doors locked?
Recalled map. North corridor central crossroads had protruding auditorium. Ideal for mass variant hide.
Ambush likely right ahead.
Wait, counter-ambush possible.
Reveal here, foe might bolt elsewhere.
Winter pressed finger to lips. Soldiers hadn't grasped full picture. Here to help, why not link? But obeyed. Winter's confident air.
Winter lowered radio volume. Jeffrey's voice through static.
"Lieutenant Han? Staff Sergeant Lieberman? He-llo? Damn. Frustrating."
Boy signaled soldiers: prep for combat.
============================ Author's Note ============================
1. As you may have seen in the notice, even switching to premium is 90 days out. No loss expected for those with 3-month passes.
2. What are you all doing reading this? Steam Summer Sale started! Go buy games already.
3. LIMBO was fun. Heartwarming tale of a boy seeking a girl—definitely try it.
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Read 436 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!
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