The convoy continued on its way. The rapid fire of guns never stopped, and the waves of zombies kept pouring out from every direction. Grotesque monsters were everywhere, but the convoy's firepower was no joke. Armored vehicles rolled forward steadily, their machine guns cutting down the infected in wide arcs.
Cyrus sat inside the lead armored truck, watching the zombies get mowed down in droves. His face stayed calm as he took in the scene. These creatures had once been people, but now they were just obstacles standing between his group and the resources they needed.
About thirty minutes later, after constant fighting, they finally reached their destination. A squad leader's voice came through the intercom in Cyrus's ear.
"Commander, we have arrived."
Cyrus nodded, opened the door, and jumped out. Berscar followed right behind him, his visor already closed. The boy stayed close, rifle ready.
