Maya's voice carried undisguised anger and anxiety. "David from Eighth Squad is usually the deputy captain of the reservists.
This time, David moved too fast, and since his teammates are all reservists he normally leads, they fought their way past the designated clearance line!
Our veterans couldn't stop them no matter how much they shouted.
They were lured into a semi-enclosed maintenance workshop.
Mikey is leading people in to try to open a path."
"Bossie, give me the overhead view and thermal imaging of that maintenance workshop in Sector D," Calista ordered.
The drone feed switched.
A large rectangular workshop appeared on-screen, with several exits blocked by roaming walkers.
The thermal imaging inside the workshop showed a dense mass of walkers moving, constantly pressing toward several heat sources in one corner. That had to be the trapped squad.
"They won't last much longer," Calista judged quickly. "Maya, send the nearest squad to support them."
Maya pressed the communicator. "Lieutenant Welles, from your position, can you provide long-range suppressive fire on the workshop's east exit?"
"Yes, but I need to clear the firing line. Give me two minutes."
Maya nodded. "Take your squad and feint from the flank. Draw the walkers outside the workshop away.
Mikey, don't force the main entrance. Look for side windows or vents. Throw something in and use noise to disrupt the walkers inside. Create a breakout window for David and the others. Move!"
The atmosphere in the command center tightened. Calista's eyes stayed locked on the screen.
Inside the workshop, David leaned against a piece of metal equipment, breathing hard.
The seven team members who had rushed in with him had barely formed a fragile circle.
All around them were tightly packed walkers, countless rotting arms reaching out from the dim corners.
Their ammunition was nearly gone, and despair was starting to spread.
"David! What do we do?!" a young team member shouted, his voice nearly breaking.
David's face was smeared with blood. His chest rose and fell violently, and his eyes were full of self-blame.
He had always felt ignored. Leo had joined the Defense Force at the same time as him and was still a rookie, yet thanks to his physical ability and luck, he had earned merit again and again, while David had never found a chance to prove his worth.
That was why David had been so eager to earn credit this time. He had led the team too far forward, only to drag his teammates into being trapped with him.
Amid the fear and regret growing wildly in his chest, he suddenly spotted a damaged ventilation duct opening above and to the side.
"Any grenades left?"
"Two!"
"Listen to my order!" David roared, forcing down all his panic. "Throw both grenades into the densest parts of the horde!
Then follow me out through that vent. Dump any gear you can throw away. Take only guns and knives."
Just as they were about to throw the grenades, fierce gunfire and explosions rang out from outside the workshop.
Lieutenant Welles and Mikey had begun their feint and suppressive fire.
The walkers inside the workshop were thrown into confusion by the disturbance.
"Now! Throw!"
Two grenades were hurled far into the walker horde in two different directions.
David went first, scrambling up the equipment like a monkey, grabbing the edge of the ventilation duct, and forcing himself inside.
The others fought desperately to follow.
Just as the last team member had half his body inside, a walker reached out and grabbed his ankle.
David twisted around inside the duct, drew his dagger, and hacked hard into the rotten wrist. The team member finally broke free and crawled in.
They had only crawled a few meters through the narrow duct when a thunderous grenade blast erupted below, followed by the sound of walkers being torn apart by the shockwave.
The walkers' hissing was cut off by the explosion.
They had made it out.
A few minutes later, when Mikey led his team in through a smashed side window and burst into the workshop, all they saw was wreckage and smoke slowly dispersing.
Soon, Mikey's group found Eighth Squad beneath the outer wall on the other side of the workshop. They were shaken and covered in scrapes, but every one of them was alive.
"Fuck you, David!" Mikey grabbed David by the collar, his eyes wide with fury. "Have you lost your mind trying to play hero? Do you know you almost got everyone killed?"
David's face was deathly pale and his lips trembled, but he lifted his head. "It's my fault. I'll take responsibility. But I brought my team out."
Mikey glared at him for a long while before letting go with a heavy snort. "You bastard. I'll deal with you when we get back. For now, fall in. Stay with us, and don't you dare run off another step."
That brief incident left everyone in the command center sweating.
Calista let out a slight breath of relief, but her gaze turned colder.
The uncontrollable side of reservists converted from civilians had been fully exposed in this real test.
After spending a certain amount of ammunition and taking a few minor injuries, the fighting on the roads and other open areas was gradually brought under control.
Walker bodies piled up everywhere and would need to be burned later by a dedicated team.
But the more dangerous part still lay ahead. The combat squads had to enter the various buildings and factories.
In Sector E, Tenth Reserve Squad was assigned to clear a three-story office building.
Following procedure, they first used noise to lure out the walkers, then cleared the building floor by floor. The first two floors went relatively smoothly.
But on the third floor, when they pushed open the door to a conference room, the nightmare came.
Behind the door were not scattered walkers, but dozens packed so tightly together they could barely move.
They seemed to have been trapped there since the time of the virus outbreak. The instant the door opened, they surged out like a floodgate bursting.
"Retreat! Back to the stairs!" Corporal Brad, the team leader, roared.
But the narrow corridor and stairwell severely limited the team's retreat speed.
In an instant, the squad was scattered.
Screams, gunfire, and the sound of biting echoed through the enclosed space, chilling everyone to the bone.
"Ah! My arm!"
"Help me! They've got me!"
"Shoot! Shoot!"
"Sector E, Tenth Squad encountered a large indoor walker horde ambush! Repeat, ambushed! Urgently need support!"
"Medical station! Prepare to receive critical casualties!"
Maya immediately dispatched nearby squads. They had to seal off the building exits quickly and prevent the walkers from rushing out and spreading.
The cruelest side of battle was laid bare before these young people.
When reinforcements arrived and brought that floor back under control, the scene was unbearable.
Four reservists had died on the spot, their bodies torn apart beyond recognition.
Two more were seriously wounded. One had been bitten on the left arm, while the other's calf was a bloody mess, torn down to the bone, the wound already turning black.
Even more suffocating was that the young team member with the bitten calf was still conscious, his face filled with extreme fear and pain.
He looked helplessly at his leg as it gradually lost feeling, then at the teammates and medical staff gathering around him, their expressions complicated.
Ethan, who was leading the medical team, crouched in front of him, quickly examined the wound, then met the pleading look in the man's eyes. He raised his head and said calmly, "Listen. I need to amputate here in the field, before the virus spreads."
"No... don't... please..." the wounded man protested weakly.
Ethan gripped his shoulder and squeezed hard. A trace of reluctance flashed through his eyes, but there was more resolve than hesitation. "Listen, kid. If you want to live, endure it. This is the only way."
There was no time for anesthesia on-site, only rough alcohol disinfection and cauterization to stop the bleeding.
At the same time, the other medical personnel were carrying out the same brutal emergency treatment on the team member whose arm had been bitten.
The two men's screams echoed through the corridor, turning the faces of everyone who heard them pale and making their stomachs twist, but the process was quick.
The severed limbs were quickly sealed for disposal. After the wounded were injected with cardiac stimulants and antibiotics, they were rushed to the medical station on stretchers.
Similar situations also occurred from time to time during clearance operations inside other buildings, though the severity varied.
Hidden walkers, dark environments, fraying nerves, wrong judgments...
Each one was devouring lives.
...
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