Chương 72: Chapter 69: Enemy at the Gate

Alex lifted me up smoothly using a dense platform of his bramble wall as requested, and then immediately dropped back down to start smacking zombies away from the barrier. From my new vantage point, I could see the giant was already halfway through the parking lot, making a straight line for our position. Better yet, the beast could see me plain as day on my perch. It let out a loud, guttural roar that rattled my teeth and picked up its pace.

It didn't even bother waiting for its lesser brethren to get out of the way; it simply trampled everything in front of it, turning lower-level zombies into paste under its massive feet. As it closed the distance, I fired off an Inspect. Undead Behemoth: Level 20. I rolled my shoulders to limber up, summoned my bow directly from my storage ring, and knocked an arrow. I started peppering the monster as fast as my hands could move, keeping its focus entirely locked on me.

I primarily aimed for center mass, doing my absolute best to turn the thing into a pin cushion. Unfortunately, it didn't appear the arrows were doing much structural damage. The behemoth just kept on coming. I tried aiming for its eyes a few times, but while it wasn't fast enough to dodge the projectiles, it was smart enough to duck its chin and catch the arrows harmlessly on its thick, reinforced scalp. By the time it reached the gate, its head looked like a grotesque cross between a porcupine and Pinhead.

Right on cue, the gate team threw open the double barriers and split to the sides. The monster charged right on in, completely taking the bait. The second its massive torso cleared the threshold, Alex reengaged his vine whips and the gate team slammed the heavy metal shut. They worked like a well-oiled machine. They were so fast that the ordinary, shambling zombies outside didn't stand a remote chance of reaching the gap before it snapped shut and was locked.

Just before the behemoth reached the wall, I leaped off the bramble platform and started backpedaling into the open courtyard. I stored my bow, pulled my. 45 pistol, and began taking steady potshots at its face to maintain its aggro. Behind me, the creature stormed right through my previous bramble perch, shattering the thick vines like they weren't even there. I made a conscious effort to keep my boots on the concrete sidewalks intersecting the quad.

I definitely didn't want to get tripped up by the various small crop plots planted within what used to be the grass. From there, Joe, Pete, and I started the long, brutal slog to take the beast down. Up close and personal, the behemoth was absolutely revolting. Even ignoring the suffocating stench of decay, its skin was a jumbled, necrotic mess of weeping lesions and purulent sores. As a former police officer, I had seen numerous human bodies in various stages of decomposition.

But to say this monster was suffering from severe skin slippage was a massive understatement. As I circled it, a stray thought crossed my mind: if we survived this night, there was absolutely no way Denise was letting me into our room, let alone letting me crawl into bed with her smelling like this. I know that wasn't exactly what I should have been worried about in the middle of a life-or-death fight, but the damn thing was so slow and lumbering that I honestly wasn't terrified of it catching me.

Out in the parking lot, things seemed to be heating up as well. Over the walls, I could hear random bursts of gunfire and the occasional piercing shriek of a necromancer. A couple of times, a volley of shots was immediately followed by an increased, chaotic moaning from the ordinary shamblers. I could only hope that meant Mike or the kill teams had successfully taken out one or two of the controllers.

As I continued to kite the behemoth around the quad, Pete and Joe executed their hit-and-run tactics, running past its flanks to hack at its tree-trunk legs with Joe's tactical axe and Pete's morningstar. They were definitely drawing blood, but it wasn't enough to bring it down. A few times, the monster attempted to take massive, sweeping swings at the two of them, forcing me to rush in with my sword to lay into its calves and whatever part of its torso I could reach.

Slowly but surely, we were wearing the monster down. The community gardens looked like a total disaster zone by minute three, but what are you gonna do? We were fighting literal evil, right? You've got to have priorities. When it became clear the behemoth was losing its speed and strength, Joe and Pete pulled off a coordinated move I hadn't expected. While the beast was focused on chasing me, Pete slipped up from the rear and smashed his morningstar directly into its forward leg just as it was taking a heavy step.

The crushing blow forced the beast off balance, causing its massive frame to tilt. Stolen novel; please report. At that exact instant, Joe rushed forward, launched himself into the air, and hit it with what I can only describe as a textbook flying shield bash. The impact absolutely trucked the beast, slamming its twenty-five-foot frame heavily to the concrete. Pete didn't wait a single second; he immediately began raining brutal morningstar strikes into the creature's skull.

Joe rolled out of his tumble remarkably fast, driving the blade of his axe into the monster's neck. Not wanting to be left out of the party, I ran over and started cutting and slashing at its head and neck with my sword. Being this close, the smell was entirely overwhelming, but we trudged through the nausea because we were finally dealing significant damage.

Whenever the monstrosity tried to wedge its arms underneath its torso to push itself up, one of us would slam a weapon into its joints, knocking it right back down. A few times it tried to blindly flail its arms at us, but it was far too slow, and we easily slipped out of the way. As much fun as I was having, my stamina bar was flashing dangerously low, and I was positive Joe and Pete were running on empty, too.

Taking a quick running start, I leaped onto the beast's broad, rotting back and began hacking furiously at the base of its neck. Despite being a decaying corpse, its skin was incredibly leathery and its bones were even tougher. Finally, I managed to open up a wide patch of flesh, exposing the thick spinal column. I raised my blade and slammed it halfway to the hilt directly between two vertebrae. The beast screamed, a deafening sound, and began to buck violently.

Like a seasoned bull rider, I held onto the grip of my sword and rode the thrashing monster for as long as I could. The wild motion actually benefited my cause, violently jostling my blade left and right, wedging it even deeper into the wound. With a sickening crack, the spine snapped, and the disgusting thing collapsed, instantly pinned to the ground. It wasn't dead yet, though. Its milky eyes still tracked our movements, and it angrily snapped its jaws and moaned.

I knew from experience that high-level undead could heal from even grievous wounds if left alone. I pulled my sword from its neck just as Joe unslung his Remington. 308 rifle, preparing to put a high-caliber round through its eye socket the exact same way he had finished the Wyvern.

"Nuh-uh, Joe," I panted, holding up a hand.

"This time it's my turn. You take your snipe and go blow that fucker TJ right off his roof." Joe just smiled, storing his rifle back in his inventory ring as he and Pete began to meander back toward the main office to catch their breath. Looking over toward the double gates, I could see it was still business as usual. Shamblers were pressed hard against the iron, desperately trying to crawl over the growing pile of corpses.

Alex's vine whips were still putting in massive work, and our volunteers were steadily taking them out, thrusting spears and swords through the gaps into zombie heads. I walked around to the front of the behemoth's head and stared down into its dead eyes. Leaning close to its face, I whispered softly, " Fuck you," and shoved my sword hilt-deep into its right eye socket. What are the first two rules of Zombieland? Rule one: cardio. Rule two: double tap.

I wrenched my sword out of the right eye and slammed it one more good time directly into the left. Finally, after pulling my sword out of its ruined eye socket and hopefully its brain, the damn thing went entirely still. Just as I turned to walk back to the office, a loud, echoing gunshot shattered the ambient noise of the courtyard. That was definitely Joe's Remington.

Out in the distance, the horde moaned loudly, and at least one of the remaining necromancers let out a final, dying shriek, followed quickly by a few smaller, distant gunshots from the kill teams. Joe's voice came over the radio, crisp and calm.

"Tango down." A moment later, one of the kill team leaders checked in, reporting that the last of the horde controllers had been successfully eliminated.

"Awesome," I replied, keying my mic.

"Jace, take your drone over to that house and confirm the kill on TJ. Travis, keep your drone high over the remaining horde and monitor their movements. See if there are any more controllers mixed in with the crowd." Just as I clicked off the radio, the loud, distinct roar of a heavy diesel engine revved into life, tearing off into the distance away from the intersection. Jace's voice cracked across the channel.

"Uh, Dad… That guy's not dead. He just took off toward downtown in what looked like an old, white farm truck." I let out a long, heavy sigh, wiping a mix of sweat and grime from my forehead.

"Copy that," I replied.

"Just keep an eye out for if and when he decides to return."