Once the shock of the explosion dies down, Carl, who has been hanging onto his pilot helmet for dear life, shouts. "What the fuck happened!?" With his legs busted, the pilot has been sitting on a white plastic chair, hiding most of his body behind the wall while reloading.
Randall, who's on the ground floor, passes on Gordy's rifle, fully reloaded, to Albrecht. The crew chief promptly takes it after resting his MP9 by a wall, next to a spare one. Randall then answers Carl's question. "Gordy's gone man, we're all that's left!"
"Fuck!" Carl cursed before leaning partially out the window, his MP9 cracking ever so often against the ragtag group of zombies looking forward to cutting them up alive. "And she was such a good one too!" By now, his tone has taken a much harsher edge to it after the loss of a comrade.
Albrecht also adopts a fierce expression, having been forced to retreat and left Gordy alone to her death right in front of him. Randall though, one can only imagine just how bad he must be feeling right now. Gordy has been a sister in all but blood to him, having ventured to many battles ever since they were conscripted to form the 404th Division. As a wolfkin, he used to joke around with Gordy that he would valiantly pass away first due to his fierce racial trait. But lo and behold, Fate is a cruel mistress as always, and Gordy moved on before him. The only thing stopping Randall from rushing out with gun blazing and knife waving is the reminder that he must do as much damage as possible to the enemy before him.
Due to Gordy's sacrifice, the first wave of zombies has taken a big hit while what's left of them are now much more cautious and wary of the trio. Having stumbled into the C-4 trap and Gordy's grenades, these zombies have wisened up. Instead of running at them like headless chickens, the zombies harass the trio while waiting for more of them to arrive before finally overwhelming their location. It's a basic tactic, fitting for their low-IQ mind, but still very effective against the trio as it forces them to burn through precious ammo.
Despite Gordy's G1 rifle not being a weapon Albrecht extensively used, the crew chief has adeptly handled the rifle without much issue. He has been trained in both the G1 and the MP9, not to mention the fact that both weapons share the same handling characteristics. The only differences are the level of firepower and magazine capacity each has to offer. Though Albrecht thinks it should be fine to complain about the optical sight the rifle is equipped with, he is not used to that but it's more of a mild annoyance due to his lack of experience using one. That said, getting the sight on target is still surprisingly easy due to the wide field of view and good eye relief the sight has to offer. He would have loved to use the rifle for a bit more due to its capability to down a target in one shot but unfortunately, a 20-round mag is woefully lacking against an enemy that never seems to exhaust their number.
With a couple of clicks, Albrecht curses softly before grabbing the magazine of the rifle to check, only to see it's empty. Quickly putting away the G1, the crew chief retakes his MP9. Not willing to waste their already low ammo count, Albrecht crouches by the side of a tool cabinet and braces the SMG on it. Eyeing a zombie with a set of gnarly claws that dared to step forth while he was switching his weapon, Albrecht took his sweet time to ensure the best chance of hitting the target before pulling the trigger twice. Both bullets hit the zombie, one center mass while the other strikes her shoulder blade. Not enough to kill her, but more than enough to knock her down on the ground and unmoving. Albrecht will deal with her when she gets back up, otherwise, there's a more pressing concern right now.
Scanning the back line further away from the Osprey, Albrecht can barely see a row of zombies standing still, doing something. Trusting his gut, Albrecht shouts. "Carl! What the fuck is going on over the far side!?"
The pilot, who has the best view out of them all, nearly jumps in fright when he sees a whole firing line of Archer-class zombies. "Fuck! Incoming!"
Just the warning alone is more than enough for Randall and Albrecht to immediately dive for the ground, while upstairs, Carl just throws his body haphazardly onto the floor. Barely have the trio duck for cover when a barrage of arrows, with devastation equal to that of ballista bolts, puncture holes into their building. Carl curls his body, trying to minimize his target profile as arrows keep sailing a mere breath away from him. Albrecht rolls away from the tool cabinet and the view of the garage door, just in time for a bolt to slam and completely decimate his prior cover. Randall glues his body to a concrete block that's been a part of the foundation of the building, he frowns when an arrow ricochets off it and breaks after it punches through the flimsy wall of the garage.
"Damn it, if they keep up this suppression fire..." Randall left the latter half of the sentence unsaid amid the sound of arrows zipping by and rubbles falling everywhere.
Albrecht, who has rolled into a small ditch used to service the underside of vehicles, raises his voice. "It's either we die to the zombies using this chance to overwhelm us, or the garage literally collapses onto our heads. Either way, this is really not how I expect our last stand to end!"
With the zombies keeping up the long-range barrage, the trio cannot poke their heads out to engage the melee types that are approaching their holdout, no doubt. Their worry is proven true when a Praetorian wielding a scythe crests the doorway. Randall immediately sets his gun on the threat, downing her in a couple of shots. Another zombie rushes in, poising her scythe to strike Randall down, only to be beset by a burst of 9x25mm bullets by both Albrecht and Carl. The latter is leaning over the catwalk, aiming his weapon downward.
As the bodies riddled with holes collapse onto each other, Randall knows from experience that keeping this up is ill-advised. The wolfkin watches as Albrecht, who's checking his magazine pouch for any more ammo, swears. "Shit! I'm out of magazine!"
"Albrecht!" Carl pulls a spare mag from his own pouch. "Last one, make it count!" The pilot throws the magazine down, and Albrecht adeptly catches it before reloading. All the while, the onslaught of long-range attacks still hasn't stopped. This means they can't even spring up the booby-trapped Osprey for an explosion either...
The arrow barrage must come to an end, otherwise, their preparation and efforts thus far would amount to none. Having made up his mind, Randall checked his equipment. Two and a half mags for the G1 and a fully loaded USP, smoke grenades, a whole lot of them, and he may have found the use for those after all. Randall then discards the unneeded weight like his rucksack and empty belts. Finally, he unstraps his helmet, which Carl and Albrecht immediately take note of. "Randall, what are you doing?"
Instead of replying immediately, Randall removes his helmet, showing his wolf ears and a head of dark gray. Coincidentally, the bulletproof helmet is adaptable to fit races with different physical traits other than humans. Randall then takes out Gordy's dog tags before removing his own, after that, he flips the helmet before placing the tags inside. With a swing of his hand, Randall slides his helmet to Albrecht who catches it with a look of perplexity. Finally, the wolfkin clears the confusion in the air by saying with a tone of finality.
"I'll be outside." Pulling out a couple of smoke grenades, Randall tosses them out of the garage. "Be prepared to detonate the Osprey when you get the chance."
Looking at the surviving 2-6 crew members one last time, Randall adds. "Good luck." Before rushing outside under the cover of the deployed smoke screen. His posture mirrors that of a predator on the hunt, befitting of the experience he has learned in his childhood.
Walf· Mar 8, 2024
Heartbreak117· Author · Mar 9, 2024
