After half an hour's rest, we regrouped.
I fixed my gaze on Slade.
"Where are we now?"
He ripped open a protein bar, chewing with a smirk. "Didn't get the official maps, but…" He tapped his temple. "I know this place. Worked security here before it all fell apart."
Brick gave a low whistle. "No shit?"
"Yup." Slade brushed crumbs from his mouth, then pulled a crumpled sheet from his pack.
Pen clicked, and he bent over the paper, sketching fast. Rough, jagged lines took shape until the stadium sprawled across the page.
He slid it forward, tapping the drawing. "Here, boss. We're on Roof Sector 7. Directly below us? E8—the executive suites."
I crossed my arms. "And the rest of this floor?"
"Press deck, security hub, broadcast station—"
"Broadcast?" I cut in.
He blinked. "Yeah… what about it?"
"That's our first stop."
Slade scratched his neck. "Uh… weren't we looking for supplies, not radios?"
I sighed, voice flat. "Think, Slade. One walker stumbles in there, trips a switch—speakers scream. Every corpse in the stadium comes running. We're finished."
Idris muttered darkly, "Perfect… just what we needed."
Slade chuckled nervously. "Right… broadcast room first."
"Good," I said, tone final. "Fourth floor's priority. Secure it. Then we sweep for food, ammo, and survivors before nightfall."
The team moved fast—magazines slammed home, bolts checked, steel clicking in the quiet.
"All set?" I asked, rising and brushing dust from my pants.
Nods all around.
"Then let's make it quick."
Pierce yanked the door.
The stairwell erupted with walkers, snapping and thrashing as they clawed upward. I kicked the first one back down, steel flashing as I split the second's skull.
Another lunged for my throat. I seized its head, twisting hard until the neck snapped, the corpse collapsing at my feet.
Idris dropped one with a muffled shot, but my pace carved the path forward. Step by step, we pushed through, the team firing in brutal rhythm, shells clattering across the floor.
By the time we reached the fourth floor, a lone walker in a tattered janitor's uniform staggered at the far end, snarling.
"Hhhrrggghhkkhh—raaahhkkhh—"
Before it could take another step, John's silenced shot cracked. The head burst apart, gore splattering the wall, and the body collapsed with a wet thud.
I flicked my blade, and we began clearing the rooms fast—no wasted motion.
At the broadcasting room, I gestured low, crouching to signal silence. Pressing against the glass, I peered inside. Shadows moved across toppled desks and chairs—walkers shuffling aimlessly.
One slumped in the monitor room, head tilted unnaturally, eyes fixed on the flickering screens.
I eased the door open, kunai sliding free. The team mirrored me, blades in hand.
When all were in position, I gave the signal. Knives punched into rotting skulls, and the walkers dropped soundlessly to the floor.
I wrenched my kunai free and scanned the squad. "Status?"
"So far, so good, kid," Pierce muttered, scraping gore off his blade against a walker's shirt.
I gave a short nod, then turned to Slade. "Did you find the power switch?"
"Found it," he said, crouching by the panel. "But it's locked tight—needs a key."
I exhaled sharply, ready to respond, when Idris stepped from the corner and tossed a bloodied key across the room. "Try this."
Slade caught it, grimacing. "You always bring me the clean stuff, huh?"
Idris cracked a Coke and leaned back. "Well, that's the cleanest one I could find."
Slade sighed and slid the key into the panel. One twist, and the lock clicked open. With a few steady pulls, the old broadcast panel powered down—the lights flickered, static fading into silence.
He dusted off his hands. "And that's how it's done. Speakers are dead, boss."
I nodded. "Good work, Slade—"
A gunshot split the air.
Brick flinched, swearing under his breath. "The hell was that?"
Idris straightened, eyes narrowing. "Gunfire…"
Then came the barrage—rapid shots echoing through the hall, tangled with panicked screams and the guttural snarls of the dead.
Slade hissed, "Sounds like survivors."
Pierce crouched low, grim. "Or some outfit we don't recognize. Either way—it's bad."
I clicked my tongue, sliding my tachi blade free in one smooth motion. "Speculation is a waste of time. We move—now."
My team tightened their grips and nodded as I burst through the door, leading the way.
The hallway was chaos—flickering fluorescent lights, jagged shadows across the fallen. A walker lunged; my blade split it from collar to hip in a single stroke.
From the far end, combat roared louder—shouts, gunfire, the guttural moans of the dead, all clashing in a deafening storm.
Walkers spilled from alcoves and stairwells along the sides. I swept my blade in a wide arc, bodies cleaving apart as blood misted the air.
My team's rifles spat silenced fire, each shot clean and efficient. But before we could breathe, a new wave poured down the main stairwell like a black tide, crashing toward us with brutal force.
"Oh, shit," Slade muttered, fists white on his gun.
"Captain!" Brick shouted, spraying rounds. "If we stall any longer, those survivors won't make it!"
I drew a slow breath, the cold steel steady in my grip. Panic wasn't an option. Not now. Not ever.
My eyes swept the stairwell—walls, angles, choke points. Every foot of this place was a potential advantage.
"Listen up!" My voice cut through the chaos. "You'll stay here. I'll handle this."
Pierce fired into the swarm, snarling. "Kid—are you insane!? We know you're not normal, but this—"
"Pierce," I cut him off, gaze steady. "There's no other way. Trust me."
He gritted his teeth. "Fine… but what do we do?"
"Cover me. Shoot anyone who gets too close." I vaulted the debris.
Pierce cursed. "All right! Give the captain some room!"
"Right—let's light 'em up!" John shouted, rifles blazing.
I surged into the swarm. My blade spun in a blur, steel singing through rotting flesh.
Shuriken and kunai flew in silver arcs, cutting walkers mid-lunge.
Steel wires snapped taut, severing bodies like threads.
Paper bombs left my hand, sticking to either side of the stairwell. For a heartbeat, the world froze—then—BOoM!! The structure convulsed as debris crashed down, sealing the passage in a storm of dust and rubble.
I landed lightly, blade sliding back into its sheath.
The squad regrouped quickly, rifles raised, tension sharp in the air.
"You alright, boss?" Idris called, taking point.
"I'm fine," I said, voice calm but steady. "Good work, everyone. Let's keep moving."
---
📚 Author's Note:
Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed these two chapters. Sorry for being a bit busy this week. Special thanks to DaoistTonyLt for always sending power stones—really appreciate it, man!
🐧