RTS System in the Apocalypse: New World

The first ranks passed one hundred fifty meters.

Anton waited.

The Bastions continued firing across the longer lanes.

Big Rhino’s coaxial machine gun cut through the center while its commander kept the heavy machine gun on the Runners still moving between the vehicles.

The ordinary infected followed behind them.

They filled the spaces left by the dead.

Several climbed onto the cars that had been pushed across the parking rows. Others forced themselves underneath, dragging their bodies through broken glass and loose pieces of metal.

The mass kept moving.

”One hundred thirty meters,” Dmitri reported.

Mercer’s Machine Gunner lowered his cheek against the stock.

The soldiers beside him waited behind the storefront windows and concrete planters.

Dobrev Squad remained near Bastion One.

His Army Soldiers held the center. The Conscripts stayed between them, rifles raised over the divider and the spaces beside the APC.

The third squad covered the eastern lanes.

Everyone still held their fire.

The nearest Runners crossed another row of vehicles.

One jumped onto the roof of a compact car and continued forward.

Bastion Three’s coaxial machine gun followed it, the burst striking the side of the vehicle.

The Runner dropped behind the roof, but its marker kept moving.

”Eastern Runner still active,” Ethan reported.

The infected emerged from behind the car, but now, it had lost part of one arm. Yet, it continued running as if pain didn’t exist.

The third squad tracked it. Their rifles moved with the target as it crossed the lane.

Anton watched its marker close.

”One hundred twenty.”

The Runner reached the last parking row.

”South One. Engage.”

Mercer Squad fired first. Rifle fire cracked across the western frontage.

The Runner disappeared beneath several rounds before it could leave the parking area.

Dobrev Squad followed.

Their first volley struck the center of the approaching mass.

Several infected dropped at once. Their bodies folded into the road, while others crashed into them from behind.

The front rows stumbled.

Some fell across the bodies. Others were pushed forward by the infected still pressing from the rear.

The formation slowed.

Then, the third squad opened fire from the eastern side.

The avenue filled with overlapping rifle fire.

Army Soldiers took the first targets.

Their bursts remained short.

Two or three rounds.

An infected dropped.

Then, the rifles shifted toward the next one.

Conscripts fired beside them, correcting after the first shot and keeping their aim near the head and upper chest.

The difference from earlier clearances showed immediately.

Fewer rounds struck the pavement. Fewer passed through empty spaces between bodies.

The promoted soldiers moved from one target to the next before the infected behind them could step over the fallen.

Mercer’s Machine Gunner fired.

The weapon shook against the concrete planter.

A longer burst crossed the western parking lane and cut through the infected crowding around an overturned bus.

Bodies collapsed beside the overturned bus, briefly blocking the lane before the infected behind them began forcing their way around the wreck.

The Machine Gunner stopped as heat shimmered above the barrel.

An Army Soldier beside him continued firing, keeping the lane covered while the weapon cooled.

Dobrev’s Machine Gunner took the center.

His first burst struck the infected emerging between two delivery vehicles. Several dropped inside the narrow opening, while those behind them continued pressing forward until the bodies were pushed across the pavement.

Bastion One’s coaxial machine gun shifted toward another section before the soldiers entered its firing line.

Its autocannon remained still.

The infantry controlled the center now.

Magazines emptied faster as more infected approached the firing lanes. The soldiers reloaded promptly, and the empty magazines vanished into nothingness once they were replaced by fresh ones.

The firing continued.

The infected had already crossed the one-hundred-meter distance.

Then ninety.

Hundreds had fallen during the first advance, yet the parking lot behind them remained crowded. More continued moving from the commercial entrance and the spaces between the abandoned vehicles.

Anton watched the separate lines maintain their sectors.

”Hold your positions.”

The squads continued firing.

By then, the bodies left across the final parking rows had begun changing the direction of the advance.

The narrow spaces between several cars were already blocked. Corpses lay across the pavement, remained folded over hoods, or hung from broken windows where the infected had tried to force themselves through.

Those coming from behind did not stop.

They stepped onto the fallen and climbed over the vehicles beside them. Others slipped between the bodies and disappeared beneath the crowd, crushed or pushed forward by the infected still moving from the rear.

”Western lanes are narrowing,” Dmitri reported.

Mercer saw the same problem from the storefront.

The two parking lanes beside the overturned bus had almost disappeared beneath the dead. Most of the remaining infected were being pushed toward the wider opening beside the bank, placing a larger part of the advancing group directly in front of his squad.

”Machine Gunner, shift right. Army Soldiers hold the bus.”

The Machine Gunner dragged the weapon across the concrete planter and settled it toward the wider lane.

His next burst entered the front of the crowd.

Several infected dropped, but the ones behind them continued moving and pushed the bodies farther along the pavement.

Mercer’s Army Soldiers fired at those climbing around the bus. Their bursts struck heads and shoulders whenever an infected appeared above the wreckage.

The Conscripts covered the spaces underneath.

One infected pulled itself beneath the bus and reached the other side with most of its back torn open.

A Conscript fired twice.

The first round struck its shoulder and turned it partly aside. The second entered its head before it could rise from the pavement.

The infected collapsed beneath the bus.

More followed through the wider lane beside the bank.

Mercer’s Machine Gunner had barely returned the weapon to position when several bodies were thrown aside from within the crowd.

Something larger pushed forward.

Its shoulders rose above the infected around it, swollen with enough muscle that one arm hung lower than the other. Torn clothing remained around its waist and chest, stretched across skin that had thickened into pale folds.

A second Brute followed several meters behind.

”Two Brutes on the western lane,” Ethan reported.

Mercer saw them between the parked vehicles.

The first Brute struck an infected from behind and sent it rolling beneath a sedan. It continued through the opening without slowing, using its arms to force the others aside.

”Machine Gunner, first target.”

The weapon opened fire.

Rounds struck the Brute across its chest and shoulder.

The infected leaned into the impacts, but its steps continued.

Mercer’s Army Soldiers joined in. Their bursts struck the same side, tearing open the skin and exposing darker tissue beneath it.

The Brute reached the overturned bus.

It placed one hand against the vehicle and pushed.

The bus shifted several centimeters across the pavement.

Its tires scraped against the road while the bodies trapped beneath it were dragged along.

Mercer’s brow tightened.

”Bastion One, western Brute.”

The APC’s autocannon turned.

Its first burst struck the Brute before it could push again.

The 30-millimeter rounds tore through its shoulder and upper chest. One arm disappeared beneath the impacts, followed by part of its neck.

The Brute fell against the bus with a loud groan. Its weight rocked the vehicle once before both stopped moving.

The second Brute entered the opening behind it.

Unlike the first, it climbed over the dead rather than forcing its way through them. Each step crushed bodies deeper into the pavement as it crossed the growing pile.

”Second Brute, behind the first!”

Big Rhino’s heavy machine gun shifted west.

The first burst struck the cars beside the Brute, punching through doors and shattering the remaining windows.

The gunner corrected its aim.

The next rounds entered the infected’s torso.

Its body jerked sideways, but the Brute continued climbing.

One round struck its face and removed part of its jaw.

Another tore through its thigh.

The leg bent beneath it.

The Brute dropped onto one knee, caught itself against the roof of a sedan, and tried to rise.

Zolyah aimed her scope near the center of its head. She fired again.

The Barrett round struck the side of its head.

Bone and dark fluid scattered across the vehicle beneath it. The Brute collapsed over the roof and remained there, unmoving.

”Both down,” Ethan reported.

The western lane opened again.

Mercer’s squad returned its fire toward the ordinary infected following behind the Brutes. Without the larger bodies forcing a path through them, the crowd slowed around the wreckage and began spreading toward the neighboring rows.

Dobrev’s center held.

The third squad continued cutting down the infected approaching from the eastern side.

The distance remained near seventy meters.

For the first time since the infantry opened fire, the nearest ranks were no longer gaining ground.

Anton watched the front stabilize.

”Maintain fire. Do not advance.”

The squads kept their positions.

Big Rhino’s heavy machine gun moved back toward the center while the Bastions resumed covering the longer lanes. The parking lot remained full, but the first surge had lost most of its speed.

Hans checked the Radar.

Hundreds of markers had disappeared.

More still moved from the commercial center, filling the spaces left behind by those already killed.

A larger marker remained near the southern ramp.

It had not moved during the opening cannon fire or the infantry engagement.

Now it shifted for whatever reasons it had.

A nearby vehicle rocked to one side. Then another.

Hans expanded that section of the Radar.

The Tank had started moving.