While the three men kept walking, inside the shop the leader signaled his team. Two immediately raised their rifles and aimed toward the street, while the other two crouched by the entrance, knives ready, waiting for the first unlucky one to walk in.
Outside, one of the enemy cautiously approached the doorway, while the other two lingered as guards, machetes in hand.
The first man slipped inside, machete raised, scanning straight ahead with false confidence. He never noticed the two soldiers pressed into the corners, creeping silently toward him.
From the outside, a voice called, "Hey, what's up?" Another asked, "Is it safe?"
The man inside started to answer—only for a hand to clamp over his mouth. He thrashed, but his arms were pinned, and before he could cry out, a blade drove into his skull. His body shuddered once, then went limp. The soldier lowered him carefully to the floor, silent as death.
"Strange…" one of the men outside muttered, suspicion prickling at him. "Hey—you, go check it out."
The order carried weight. Though the second man hesitated, fear tugging at his gut, he finally obeyed. He edged toward the door, machete shaking slightly in his grip.
From inside, the leader exhaled slowly. Through a crack in the boarded window, he had already spotted the cautious one backing away. Looks like we're about to be found out, he thought grimly.
Well then… it's time, the leader thought. He gave a sharp signal, and at once his men reacted. The two with rifles stayed steady, while the others sheathed their knives and raised their weapons, eyes hard and ready.
With a final hand gesture, the leader ordered them to fire. Just as the hesitant enemy stepped through the doorway—BANG! A single shot dropped him instantly. Blood sprayed as his body collapsed in the threshold.
The others outside panicked. Gunfire erupted—BANG! BANG! BANG!—rounds tearing through the one who had started to back away. "Fuck, I knew it!" he cursed, turning on his heel and sprinting. A bullet ripped through his leg, sending him staggering, but he pushed forward with raw desperation. I have to report this to the boss!
Inside the shop, the team leader barked, "Move out!" His squad sprang into action. But the echo of gunfire carried, drawing the hungry groans of walkers already shambling their way.
"Sir, what now?" one soldier asked.
"We're going home. Fast. Let's move!" the leader snapped.
The danger wasn't just from the dead. Inside the enemy stronghold, Mike—who had been lounging in his chair—jolted upright at the noise. His instincts flared. Without hesitation, he stormed outside, four armed guards falling in behind him.
As he strode toward the opposite door, it suddenly burst open. Jay stumbled through, face grim.
"Sir!" Jay shouted.
Mike's expression hardened.
"Go," he ordered.
Jay nodded quickly. "Already did, sir. The others are moving. I sent them the moment I heard the shots."
Outside, a chase had erupted. Jay — competent as ever — had sent a few dozen men after the five-man team the moment word reached him that one of their own had been shot. The city echoed with gunfire as men streamed through alleys and across streets.
"BANG! BANG! BANG!" rounds cracked. "Shit!" someone cursed as bullets tore into plaster and glass. The dozen-man squad closed in. "You can't escape us!" the man leading them shouted.
The five-man team scrambled into a nearby building and barricaded the entrance. Their base was far away; if they didn't fall back soon, they'd be cut off. The leader realized some of them might have to be left behind so the location of the enemy base could be sent to camp. He made a grim decision.
"Keep firing," he ordered, voice low and hard. His squad kept up a steady barrage to slow the attackers.
He looked at the youngest man in his team — James, barely twenty-three — still firing at the approaching enemies. "James. Come here."
James turned, confusion and defiance in his eyes.
"Take the map and run to the base. Now," the leader said.
"No. I can't leave like this," James protested.
"This is an order. You're the youngest. You have to live," the leader snapped. Around them, the others accepted their fate. They tightened their grips and readied themselves to hold the line.
"Think of your sister," the leader added, and the hesitation in James broke.
"I have to protect her," James said, voice breaking. "Alright. I'll go. I'll come back."
James snatched the map, sprinted for the back exit, and vanished into the maze of streets. The remaining men poured their fire into the attackers to distract them and convince the enemy that most of their force was still there, buying James precious time.
Bullets thudded and men fell. "Bang—" A shout cut off as one of the defenders took a head shot and went limp.
"Looks like one of you fell! Hahaha — you're surrounded!" a taunting voice called out.
Then, from different directions, guns were trained on the defenders. "Surrender now!" the voice barked again.
Out of ammo and out of options, the leader sighed and raised his hands. "We surrender," he said, chest heaving.
The voice chuckled. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" it said, amusement thick in the words.
The leader was yanked to his feet and shoved forward until he stood face-to-face with a man whose scar cut jaggedly across his cheek. A gold tooth glinted when he smiled, the cruel grin of a predator savoring fresh prey.
The rest of the dozen men wasted no time. They wrestled the leader's squad into submission, kicking them to their knees and raining punches into their faces. Blood sprayed against the floorboards. The leader himself was struck hard across the jaw by the scarred man. The blow nearly made him black out.
"Heh… you're tough," the scarred man said, his voice like gravel soaked in oil. He leaned in close, the stink of rot and tobacco on his breath. "But that ain't gonna be enough… not for what's coming'." He licked his lips slowly, like a vulture circling over carrion.
For the first time that night, the leader felt a shiver of real fear. His men looked broken, terrified of what awaited them. He knew this wasn't going to end cleanly.
"Alright, let's move!" the scarred man barked. "These gunshots will drag the rotters in soon."
Chains were thrown around the captives, and they were hauled out into the night, stumbling and beaten.
Meanwhile, James was already sprinting through the ruined streets, clutching the map tight against his chest. Every corner he turned, he saw shambling figures drawn by the echo of gunfire.
Damn it, walkers… he thought, pressing himself into the shadows. He forced himself to stay quiet, slipping between alleys, moving only when their attention shifted. His lungs burned, his legs ached, but he kept going.
Leader, everyone… wish for me, James prayed silently.
---------------------------------
What do you think about this Chapter ??
🌟 Want to support the story even more?
You can join my Patreon for special perks and to help keep the story alive:
👉 patreon.com/xavien1
Reach 100 Power Stones = Bonus Chapter
📚 A little note: I'm still pursuing my college degree, so I may not be able to upload every single day. I'll do my best to keep the story going as consistently as possible, and I deeply appreciate your patience and understanding