The infected would simply walk around the destroyed roads.
That realization settled heavily inside the command center.
The infrastructure strikes were working.
Bridges had collapsed.
Highways had disappeared.
Interchanges had become mountains of concrete.
The hordes had slowed.
But they had not stopped.
The recon drones proved it.
The infected simply flowed around the destruction like water around rocks.
Slower.
Less organized.
But still moving.
Still coming.
Still heading toward Basa Air Base.
Adrian stared at the tactical map.
Red markers continued appearing.
Thousands.
Then tens of thousands.
Then more.
The latest estimates were becoming absurd.
One analyst finally looked up.
"Sir…"
Adrian didn't take his eyes off the screen.
"What is it?"
The officer swallowed.
"The northern concentrations now exceed two hundred thousand."
Silence.
Another analyst spoke.
"The southern front is approaching one hundred and fifty thousand."
Then another.
