My Sniper System in a Zombie Apocalypse World-Chapter 38: Grenton is Lost

Chapter 38: Chapter 38: Grenton is Lost
In the dead of the night, a lone soldier ran through the dark streets with everything he had.
His boots slapped against the wet ground, echoing across the area. Behind him, the infected gave chase.
They were not the normal ones. Some leaped across rooftops and cars, their bodies twisting in the air. Others crawled on all fours, moving like beasts, covering long distances in seconds. Their limbs bent the wrong way, their speed unnatural.
The soldier did not dare run straight. He turned into narrow alleys, cut through tight corners, and slammed into walls as he ran. He knew this was his only chance.
The roars behind him grew louder, closer.
Hot breath brushed the back of his neck.
"Huff... huff... huff..."
His lungs burned. His vision blurred. Just as his legs threatened to give out, he saw it.
An open door. His hope.
He threw himself inside, slammed the door shut, and locked it with shaking hands.
Then his walkie-talkie rang.
"Gerry, do you copy? your situation."
The sound made him flinch. He pressed his back against the door, listening.
"They found me," he whispered, then swallowed hard.
"Sergeant... I’m here," Gerry said, his voice trembling. "This is probably the end for me. I’m trapped."
" your location, Gerry. We’re coming for you."
"Forget about me, Sergeant. I’m already dead." He laughed. "But it’s fine. I planted the bombs. I did my job."
"Gerry, tell me your location. This is an order."
Before he could reply, the door behind him exploded inward. The lock tore apart like paper.
"They’re here."
Gerry hurled the walkie-talkie aside and raised his rifle, his hands shaking.
"I’m not going down alone, you bastards!"
The infected roared back at him, a cacophony of guttural sounds, but they were met with bullets.
Tat. Tat. Tat.
Shells clattered to the floor as bullets tore through rotten flesh. Bodies dropped, and blood sprayed the walls.
Gerry maniacally laughed, as he held the doorway. "HAHAHA!"
Then a massive form pushed through the swarm, forcing the entrance to burst wider.
The bullets hit it, but it did not slow down.
It looked like a jumper, but far larger, nearly three meters tall. Its limbs were long and twisted, its muscles swollen and thick. Its eyes locked onto him instantly.
Roar. The sound vibrated through his bones.
The creature charged, smashing through tables and cabinets like they were nothing, stopping only a step away from him.
Gerry kept firing.
Tat. Tat. Click. Click.
His bullets ran out. His hands trembled as he stared up at the thing towering over him. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but his legs would not move.
"What the f*ck are you?!!"
Bam.
The monster swung its claws downward, and he was smashed into a meat paste, killing him in an instant. Blood and gore splattered across the room.
In the corner of the room, the walkie-talkie crackled.
"Gerry? What happened? Gerry, answer me!"
The creature turned, let out a roar, and smashed it into pieces.
....
Meanwhile, deep underground in a hidden room, the other voice echoed through the silence. The sergeant, a rough looking man, gripped the walkie-talkie tightly.
"Gerry, answer me."
Only static replied.
He lowered the device slowly. He knew it was the end for his subordinate.
"Fuck..." he cursed, slamming his fist onto the table.
The door suddenly opened, and a soldier staggered inside. His face was battered, he looked extremely exhausted, and his eyes were moist with tears.
"Corporal Miller?" the sergeant said, standing up at once. "What happened? Weren’t you guarding the bridge?"
Miller’s legs gave out. He dropped to the floor, shaking.
"Sergeant... they attacked us." His voice broke. "Those monsters... Johnson and Peter... they’re gone."
He covered his face and cried, sobbing like a child who had lost everything.
The sergeant froze. Johnson, Peter, Miller, these three were his best men.
His chest tightened. Rage surged up his throat, but he forced it down. He turned away, his teeth grinding as his hands trembled.
Suddenly, roars echoed through the underground halls. At the same time, gunshots rang out.
Corporal Miller jolted awake from his crying, his blood running cold. "Why are they here? This place is supposed to be hidden!" he shouted.
Then his eyes widened in horror.
"No... no, they followed me." His voice began to shake. "That’s not right... they let me escape on purpose?"
He then laughed maniacally, his hands grabbing his hair and scratching his face, like his mind had snapped.
The sergeant turned sharply. "What nonsense are you talking about, Corporal?" he barked. "Pick up your weapon and get up. We’ll kill those monsters."
"It’s useless. We can’t win." Miller laughed harder, tears running down his face. "We’re the best soldiers? That’s bullshit. This isn’t something humans can beat. The world is already doomed."
"Tch." The sergeant clicked his tongue. "He’s lost it."
He had seen it before. Soldiers who broke after seeing too much.
Without another word, the sergeant grabbed a rifle and stepped out of the room.
Outside, a wide underground space opened before him, once a facility. Now it was a battlefield. Ten soldiers, bruised and exhausted, fired nonstop at the incoming infected.
Above them, the entrance was being torn apart. Metal bent and concrete cracked as wave after wave of infected poured in.
As the opening grew wider, the real horrors arrived.
Jumpers leaped down, closing the distance in seconds. One landed on a soldier, dragging him to the ground as his screams were cut short.
The sergeant stood near the doorway of his room, his face twisted with fear and rage. Around him, the underground facility was in chaos.
Grenton city was just a hellhole.
He gripped his rifle tightly, refusing to surrender to despair. Each shot he fired found its mark, tearing through the advancing infected.
A jumper lunged at him, but he skillfully sidestepped just in time, emptying his magazine into it until it collapsed with a sickening thud.
Minute after minute, the fight continued. One by one, his comrades fell, until he was alone, surrounded by a horde that never seemed to tire.
"These monsters... why did I even come here?" he muttered, bitter laughter escaping him.
Memories flashed unbidden, his wife’s gentle smile, his daughters’ laughter.
’I’m sorry... Daddy can’t come home this time.’
Soon, the infected closed in. They tore into him, biting at his arms, legs, chest, every part of his body.
Pain tore through him, but through the agony, his hand closed around something beneath his uniform, a controller.
"Burn in hell, you monsters!" he screamed and pressed the button.
"Boom!"
A few kilometers away from the place, Jaxon opened his eyes.