A slap resounded across the small building, followed by a tooth flying out of a bloodied mouth. Whimpers filled a small room as a man tightly clutched his hands and feet, bounded by ropes while sitting on the metal chair.
"How many are there?!" Dmitri grabbed the man’s jaw and lifted it up, glaring at its lifeless eyes.
"I... will not tell you anything!" The man gritted his teeth, blood flowing through the gaps. "My mouth, has a price... something you cannot afford—!"
Dmitri tightened his grip on the jaw, shove it forward, and watched as the man fell to the ground, helpless.
"Argh! Why are you doing this? We didn’t do shit to you?"
He shouted in pain, grunting and cursing Dmitri to hell back and forth. They were having fun during patrol and suddenly met a disaster from some punk they didn’t know.
His girl, bound like him, whimpered. Fear gripped her mouth from speaking anything.
"Who are those corpses from the intersection? Did you kill them?"
"I didn’t, but our boss did!" the man huffed, spewing blood from his mouth, "They took our food, then escaped, ungrateful dogs! If the boss didn’t take them in, they would have died out here!"
"Escape to where?" Dmitri knelt beside him.
"To some goddamn fucking warehouse to the east!" the man bit his lips and endured the pain, "Why, you want to join them? Aren’t you fucking soldiers—?!"
Dmitri slapped the man again, "You said something about your warlord breaking inside the police armory. What does he plan to do?"
"Tell that to the fucking cops! Aren’t you all the same?" the man spitted blood into Dmitri’s face but the latter tilted his head to the sides. His actions brought a sense of dread into the man’s heart, his limbs shivering while bound in place.
"You, you won’t get anything out of me! The boss will find me here, and you will be dead! So fucking dead, you hear me?"
"You’re too worked up." Dmitri stood up, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get more information from this guy.
"Sir, it’s almost 2 PM." Ryan walked in and reminded Dmitri, shifting his eyes toward the couple. Their bloodied faces had swollen, eyes drooping low and about to faint.
At that moment, a buzzing echoed from one of the rooms in the building. The young man’s eyes glowed in delight upon hearing that sound.
Dmitri observed the couple’s reactions, both finding respite in their plight.
"Oh, a walkie-talkie?" he rushed into the room where the sound came. On top of a small wooden desk sat a small walkie-talkie, the vibration pushing it sideways.
He grabbed it and walked back to the bedraggled young man, placing the walkie-talkie near the mouth. He wanted to know how fast the noose would tighten upon these couple.
A pistol was aimed at the young man’s head, "Talk. Do anything funny and you’ll die."
The cold muzzle that touched his head purged any resistance left, leaving him stuttering.
"Yes..."
Dmitri pushed a button, accepted the call, and was followed by a hoarse voice speaking through the walkie-talkie.
"Garven, you lazy fuck! Where have you been?! There’s a zombie horde attacking the fucking base!"
"Boss...! We’re..."
Dmitri cocked the gun and raised his eyebrows. Garven gulped, feeling the impending death.
"You’re what? Having fun over there? You piece of shit, get back here now!"
"Yes...!"
Garven, threatened on both ends, stammered, answering distractedly. Fuck it, I don’t want to die. No, I don’t want to. My girl is here, our life is about to change, I just can’t—!
The call dropped and Dmitri pulled his gun. Garven heaved, taking deep breaths after slipping out from death’s grasp.
"Garven, babe..." his girl cried, still unsure of what to say.
"Babe, it’s okay, it’s okay..." Garven looked at her, eyes wide, heart beating like a drum. While they were lost in their own terror, Dmitri approached Ryan and whispered.
"Kill them. Silently."
He held no plans to carry two risks around and left their demise at Ryan and Lukas’s hands.
The warlord had active comms—whether the couple died or returned alive would prompt a search about Dmitri’s party. It just depended on how fast the warlord’s forces could sweep around the urban fringe and locate them.
The warlord is powerful?
The fatty zombie and the stalkers were the most absurd entities Dmitri had encountered. What else could be more monstrous than them?
He stepped into a lavatory, turned on the faucet, and rinsed the blood off his hands.
The water system’s still running. he noted, briefly wondering at the resilience of the area’s water and power infrastructure.
Pulling himself from his thoughts, he saw Ryan and Lukas step out of the room, both drawing deep breaths. After reporting to Dmitri, the team moved out once more—more cautious than before.
As they advanced northwest, zombies began appearing frequently, their size and danger steadily growing the closer they drew to the bank.
The group returned to the narrower alleys, uninterested of sweeping the crowded areas. A few stragglers loitered within the narrow pathways. Dmitri and Ryan took turns plunging their knives into the zombies’ heads.
The team traversed through several turns, jumped over wire fences, and crossed two streets before they saw the outline of a small bank on the other side.
Dmitri scanned the area, finding it swarming with zombies. A direct approach would lure all of the undead, trapping his team at the center of a kill zone.
Gunning their way through wasn’t viable either. Not only was ammo limited but their bullet refresh time has long passed.
His knife pierced through a zombie’s neck and pulled his hands, beheading the bastard. He tucked the corpse out from sight, retreating to the alleys.
"Area is packed with enemies. No breaching today, surveillance only."
The team understood. Today wasn’t a clearing operation, but to lay the groundwork for future access to the bank.
Dmitri observed his surroundings and settled on a four-story building overlooking the bank’s premises.
"Secure that," he ordered.
The team moved in, quietly eliminating the zombies lingering around the structure.
Dmitri reached the metal service door at the rear. The knob didn’t budge. He knelt and worked on the lock.
The rattling sound attracted a few zombies, quickly dealt by Ryan, Lukas, and the conscripts.
The locked door clicked. Dmitri slowly pushed it open, stepping inside a narrow, dark corridor.
"Flashlight." he asked.
Ryan handed one over. The light cut through the darkness, revealing two doors lined along the left wall with the corridor bending further to the left ahead.
Dmitri raised his right fand, pulling two fingers up and pointing them to the left. As they approached the first door, Ryan advanced and planted his back on the other end of the door.
Dmitri opened it. A strong stench of odor assaulted his nose, finding the room filled with cleaning materials.
"Move."
They checked the next door and found nothing of interest as well.
"Clear all rooms then move up."
Floor by floor, room by room, the soldiers cleared the building. A few conscripts were promoted to the next star, increasing their firepower in the process.
Still, Dmitri had no interest in drawing attention through gunfire. He crossed the fourth floor and drove his knife into a zombie’s skull, dropping it instantly.
I’m close to promotion. Better let the others take the kills instead.
He could feel his progress rapidly increasing during the operation. Promotions meant more strength, fresh magazines, and refreshed grenades. He intended to make full use of that advantage on the day they breached the bank.
The comms bead buzzed. Dmitri tapped it, Ryan’s voice coming through.
"Sir, the building has been cleared of enemies."
"Secure the area, block the windows, and set up a small outpost here."
He cut the transmission and peered through the closed blinds, studying the street below.
The bank sat at the center of the long street, two small stores flanking it. The bank’s rolls of screens scattered outside the entrance, leaving open gaps wide enough for a person to pass through.
The zombies clustered unnaturally on some access points, suggesting signs of previous entries—human or another. The pattern became more obvious when he noticed those points positioned near the apartments and houses across the street.
"A few cars. Zombies grouping up. Few blind spots, and impossible shortcuts. Silent killing is the only way forward."
Drawing zombies with gunfire or explosions were too risky. A single loud sound could pull not only the horde but the warlord’s forces as well.
A confrontation between the two sides would only slow down Hans’s forces, especially with so little information on the enemy.
I need to return today and request for reinforcements.
Dmitri gripped the knife sheathed on his side, recalling his previous thoughts.
Silent killing may take a while, but it was reliable and more predictable. His only concern was the warlord’s forces expanding their search within the urban fringe, looking for Garven’s cold body.
It seemed that whether they confronted Garven or not, the warlord and his forces would always be pulled into Hans’s schemes.
"A tricky situation..." Dmitri frowned, continuing surveillance, "The bank’s security alarm may still be online. We must break through accurately and quickly."