The once blue sky of Apex City is now covered in smoke and fire. The city that was once vibrant and full of life is now reduced to hell.
Collapsed buildings and cars lay overturned like discarded toys. The acrid scent of charred metal mixed in with the odor of decay was thick enough to choke you to death.
-------
Cyrus stood in front of the Primary Research Laboratory. Beside him were Professor Albert and the survivors he rescued moments earlier from the second floor.
Their faces were drained of color; their eyes filled with fear and dread. The other soldiers came out one after the other, escorting dazed researchers, teachers, and staff towards the buses.
Some of them were paralyzed with fear, so much so that they dared not to look at their surroundings but stared at the ground.
Cyrus surveyed the crowd with his cold gaze. He looked at the two buses that had been filled with the survivors; about two hundred survivors were rescued from this building.
"Is that all?" Cyrus looked at the squad and asked.
"Yes, Commander; that's all of them. There are no other survivors in this building," one of the squad leaders stepped forward and replied.
"Good," Cyrus nodded. "Move out."
The soldiers immediately filled their vehicles. Engines rumbled to life as the convoy rolled away from the building.
---
A few moments later, they reached the central square, and other units were coming from other directions. Trailing behind were long lines of students, researchers, teachers, staff, etc.
There were quite a lot of them, but considering the total population of this university, it's not that much. Almost two-thirds of the entire university had been infected or died from the apocalypse, and also today is the weekend, so most of the students are out.
These people are the remaining survivors in this university. Although small, to Cyrus, these are talents.
"Administrator, there are no other survivors in this place."
A faint glimmer flashed in Cyrus's eyes; he gave a nod. "Understood."
He turned to his men and ordered, his voice cold and commanding, "Get all of them into the buses! Anyone who tries to cause trouble will be thrown out!"
"Yes, Commander!" the soldiers responded in unison.
A burly soldier with an icy, piercing cold gaze faced the crowd and then bellowed, his voice booming across the square, "You've heard the Commander! Get in line and move quickly. Anyone who makes trouble will be fed to the zombies!"
His words struck them as the survivors froze, their bodies trembling as dozens of guns were pointed at them.
Fear immediately gripped them; all thoughts of disobedience vanished like smoke as everyone got into line and boarded the buses one by one.
Cyrus just stood there watching everything from a distance, his silver hair swaying gently in the wind. He surveyed the survivors with a cold gaze; no sympathy in his eyes, just a detached gaze of a commander.
Within three minutes, the buses filled up, all twenty buses packed to capacity with anxious survivors, the windows fogged by their nervous breaths.
The convoy immediately got into formation; the buses lined up in the center, five armored trucks flanking on each side, front, rear, and both wings, forming a tight iron wall.
Cyrus climbed into the front bus. He swept his eyes over the survivors.
His eyes landed on Professor Albert, who sat in the front row with a female student. His wrinkled hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his glasses.
Gratitude flashed in his eyes, but there was also a hint of wariness as well.
Cyrus pressed the intercom in his ear and ordered, "Move out."
The engines rumbled to life and the convoy rolled forward. Behind them, the university shrank away, swallowed by smoke and fire.
---
Outside the campus, the entire city had already descended into hell.
The streets were filled with chaos; screams and the growling of zombies filled the sky.
Buildings lay in ruins; everywhere one looked was filled with despair.
A man clutched his bleeding neck as a horde of undead pounced on him, tearing him apart.
A woman who seems to be his wife shrieked until her throat split as she collapsed under an avalanche of undead.
Flames roared into the sky, buildings kept collapsing, and explosions rumbled from time to time.
Police sirens wailed faintly in the distance before their sounds abruptly fell silent, replaced by guttural roars and desperate pleas for mercy.
Zombies roamed every corner of the streets, their rotten bodies piling on top of each other in disgusting and grotesque heaps.
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The convoy continued on their way; these zombies couldn't reach the convoy before they were torn to shreds.
The heavy mounted machine guns continued to spew out a hailstorm of bullets, ripping those rotten corpses into bloody pastes.
Grenades and rocket launchers exploded in the streets, and hordes of zombies were reduced to meat under this relentless assault.
The armored trucks advanced in an unstoppable manner, their metal hulls mowing down any zombies in front of them.
Inside the buses, the survivors sat stiffly in their seats in fear and terror; they had been hiding in the university buildings, therefore they had not witnessed the true horror of the apocalypse. Now seeing it for themselves, they were totally filled with fear and terror as well.
A mother's anguished scream pierced through the chaos as she watched her baby being ripped from her hand and torn in half.
A few students gagged at the sight of corpses being gnawed, with intestines and limbs flying everywhere.
Blood sprayed everywhere, and screams echoed through the sky.
The scene made all the survivors in the buses turn pale in horror; their bodies couldn't stop trembling.
One student buried his face in his knees, his voice cracking and trembling as he kept muttering, "It's over... Humanity is finished."
Cyrus sat at the front, casually crossing one of his legs over the other with his electromagnetic cannon resting on his shoulder.
He stole a few glances at the reflections in the window,terrified faces and collapsed hopes.
He let out a faint chuckle, his eyes totally devoid of warmth.