'Turn right here,' the voice instructed. 'There's something these zombies try to protect that way.'
But to Konrad, it felt like any other narrow corridor.
One that went on forever, lit only through the cracks in the ceiling or his flashlight. And it would intersect with other similar service routes at random, looking all the same.
"Why does this place feel like it's about to fall apart?" he grunted, advancing with sword drawn.
If he had a third hand, he'd even hold a pistol, feeling vulnerable down there.
'Must've been an earthquake,' the brain suggested. 'I always felt tremors during Blowouts, too.'
"What are those anyway?" Konrad asked, but had no time for the answer.
Another Bloodsucker decloaked right in front of him, damn close to giving him a heart attack.
"And these," he yelled, stabbing with the sword. "Who'd create such monsters and why?!"
Even if it had no weapons or room to maneuver, it took all the strength and skill Konrad had to kill it. And without the brain's Psyonic Field, he would have run straight into its arms.
'You can stop screaming, it's dead,' the voice pointed out.
But he still felt like his heart would explode.
'The researchers thought they'd make the perfect grunts,' the brain explained. 'They're tough, fast, and can turn invisible. But there's no way to control them, so I'm surprised they're here.'
"Grunts?" Konrad panted. "These aren't even the final boss monsters?!"
Insanity. But using them as guards, whether they could or couldn't control them, made sense.
"If they didn't want to come back here anymore, they only had to release them, and—"
Yeah, they did a pretty good job.
While the voice thought it was already dead, he couldn't help but poke it with his sword.
"What do you mean they couldn't control them, though?" he asked. "Not even you?"
'Nope,' the brain said, sounding disgusted. 'They're impervious to my mind-reading or possession. It's as if they're only driven by their primal instincts. And that's to drink blood.'
Konrad shivered. He shouldn't have asked about it.
But thank the spirits, he only met a few more zombies as he explored the corridor.
"How far is it? This network is huge," he grumbled, wiping his sword clean.
And stepping out into an opening, he had only realized how enormous it actually was.
His rickety corridor crossed over a larger one, which in turn seemed to act as a collector for a few more from below. And a staging area for the zombies, all turning their heads towards him.
"Fuck, not even a warning this time?!" he complained, scrambling to get his pistol.
Whichever was fine.
He saw no way to get down there, but nothing stopped the bullets the zombies sprayed at him.
To make it worse, whenever they hit that perforated steel bridge in front of him—
It was about to break and crash into the main corridor below.
'My directions were off,' the voice admitted, sounding puzzled about it. 'But there should be a staircase on the other side of that bridge that takes you down there, and—'
With a creak, it finally collapsed, falling twenty feet to squash a few zombies below.
"Well, no crossing that now," Konrad grunted, trying to return their fire. "You were saying?"
'That whatever controls them is at the end of that lower corridor.'
Ugh. Wasn't that great?
And he ran out of ammunition for his Makarov before he realised.
"Damn zombies," he complained, throwing the now-useless piece of metal at them. "How many is that? Ten? Fifteen?! Even if there's a way to climb down, I can't do it while they're here."
They soaked up his bullets like sponges.
Shook them off and fired back from a plethora of their own, looted, rusted weapons.
'You have the Five-seveN, too,' the brain reminded. 'No shrugging that off, but—'
Yeah. He didn't have to say it.
Konrad was terrible at aiming; he knew that, too.
He tried to pick up archery back in Kasserlane once, but gave up right away.
Controlling where his sword swung or stabbed was much easier for him.
Aiming with a bow, or even these pistols—
'I don't get it,' the voice complained. 'From your memories, you provided a decent sniper cover back in the Wild Territories. Why can't you do that now?'
"First off, I had a scoped rifle, and I still wasn't that great," Konrad groaned. "And second—"
Nope, there was no time for a second point.
A third Bloodsucker decloaked behind him, making even the brain scream in surprise.
And he put away his sword to use that damned pistol instead.
One he had already thrown away as he ran out of ammo.
"I fucking hate it here," he shouted, ducking under the monster's claws.
It still managed to pin him to the wall, its disgusting tentacles shuddering and opening wide.
It had shark-like teeth behind them, closing in on his neck fast.
All his strength, boosted by his panic, was too little too late to shove that thing away.
At least the firing from below had stopped, except for the familiar barking of an AK, but—
It came from across the fallen bridge, not from below.
And the aim was much better than the rest, his Mama's Beads having to save his life again.
"Fuck, sorry about that," a man shouted, not something the zombies had done before.
And while wrestling for his life, Konrad couldn't even turn to look.
"Get this thing off me," he yelled, pulling up both knees to kick it in the guts.
It didn't do much, but the next burst of bullets did.
The Bloodsucker had finally let him go, long enough to free his sword and stab it in the throat.
And the chest. And decapitate it. Even slice off every single tentacle one by one.
"You fucking freak," he cried out, stomping on the corpse.
That was close. Way too close.
And without the—wait. He got outside help, but he left Dmitry on the surface.
Konrad spun around to see a scowling man reload his AK, looking as if he saw a ghost. He had a receding hairline and a familiar face, making him forget the Bloodsucker for a moment.
"Strelok?!" he shouted across, and the man nodded.
"Wait, you're the guy who's been looking for me?" he yelled back, glancing out behind his cover.
The zombies were still waiting for them down below, spraying bullets in response.
But Konrad no longer cared.
"Holy shit. Yes. Yes, I've been looking for a while now," he said, taking a step towards him. But that bridge was still gone. "Crap. Uh. We, um, need to talk."
Strelok scoffed.
"Yeah, well, how 'bout later?" he asked, leaning out to fire at the zombies. "A bit busy right now."
Of course. But he couldn't wait.
"You're from another world, right?!" Konrad kept yelling. "Why don't you use your magic?"
It would have been much faster, even if Strelok's aim was not as terrible as his.
The man would only scoff again, pulling back into his cover.
"I knew it was odd to see a guy running around with a sword," he grunted. "But there's no point in hiding it now, I guess? There's only one problem with my magic—"
He paused to reload, then looked Konrad in the eyes.
"I don't have it."