Ch.28Chapter 4. Lambert Drive (13)

In front, a wave of gang members and zombies being driven towards us. In the sky, 12 helicopters. Behind us, the road is completely blocked with vehicles, and buildings seal off both sides.

Well, this is just great. Either we disobey and die by minigun fire, or get swept away by that approaching zombie wave. Can’t break through that crowd with just an M4 and a rifle.

I checked if we could break through the buildings, but it’s impossible. Even if we could smash through the glass windows, we’d never get past the walls behind them.

I spot a cage on the ground. A zombie is howling inside while the human trapped beneath it can only tremble, unable to even open their mouth.

Wow. Helicopters. The best I’ve ever managed was hooking zombies to a tow truck and dragging them around. This kind of hunting drive is creative.

Using cages to round up zombies, then shredding them with miniguns and rockets… They’re keeping all the fun to themselves? That seems a bit unfair.

“30 seconds remaining.”

Looking in the side mirror, I see CDC people getting out of the cars behind the fire truck. Some have had their handcuffs removed, but most haven’t. Without being told, these educated folks line up along the roadside and kneel down.

Cassandra is lying on a stretcher. Since she’s not the type to be compliant, I check and sure enough, her arms and legs are handcuffed. Still, seeing the bandages around her shoulders and back is reassuring.

Meanwhile, the fire truck remains motionless. I wonder if the door is broken, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. The windows are covered with metal plates and perforated sheets, so I can’t see inside. No way to know what they’re thinking.

…But why is the fire truck flashing its high beams like that? Just to be annoying? The nerve, with its water tank leaking like a sieve.

I consider what might happen if we continue to Hampton. The journey itself should be safe, but I’m not sure what awaits us there. Hmm… surely I won’t end up as some kind of experiment for those doctors back there.

On second thought, becoming Cassandra’s pet human might not be so bad. She’s a bit strange, but she has big breasts… yes, big breasts. That might be enough, I think.

But only if I could trust those helicopter guys.

“15 seconds remaining. Black van and fire truck, exit your vehicles or we will open fire.”

I glance up at the helicopters circling around us. They’re ready to rain bullets if necessary.

The pale-skinned woman with silver-blonde hair stands out among them. She’s not wearing a bulletproof helmet in an operation zone, which suggests she’s the commander.

…I seriously wonder if I can trust people who put humans and zombies together in cages and drag them around as bait.

Wait. Didn’t that woman mention something about Military Police 8 earlier? Could it be that she’s 8qawsed8, and she’s the one who brought these helicopters?

“Nah, that can’t be right.”

But what if it is? I’d need to run away immediately.

The fire truck behind me flashes its high beams again. I tap the brakes a couple of times. Seeing my taillights flashing, it settles down.

But why aren’t they getting out? Do they want to die? Or is there some compelling reason they can’t surrender to the Military Police…

There is someone like that. Someone who sent people to retrieve a bag—Hans.

“Wow.”

I’m starting to understand that there must be bad blood between this Hans guy and the woman in the helicopter. That’s why they won’t get out. They’d be killed if they did.

Though I could be wrong.

“5 seconds remaining!”

I open the door. As I get out, I smoothly slide the M4 and rifle from the passenger seat to the driver’s seat. Ready to grab and shoot if needed.

“Black van with the pink bag, step away from the vehicle! Fire truck, we’re not waiting any longer!”

I raise my hands and slowly back away, but not submissively. I drag my feet, drawing a large V on the ground.

Then I look toward the fire truck and frantically signal with my hands.

* * * * *

Leticia and the soldiers watched the commander with tense eyes. The commander held her right hand up. When that hand came down, they would open fire.

But she didn’t lower it. Instead, she shook her head and waved her hand. A signal to wait.

‘Is she smiling?’

The corners of the commander’s mouth curled up like a grinning snake. Leticia followed her gaze. The V drawn on the ground was clearly visible.

“…V. Finding you in the most unexpected place.”

But she soon leaned back, her face losing interest.

“An Elza intelligence agency loyalist… I expected something more interesting. Leticia, what do you think? There, an Elza person offering themselves as a slave rather than a master. Is he worth any sympathy?”

Leticia looked down at her fellow countryman frantically waving his arms. From above, he looked somewhat pitiful, as if begging for his life.

“Pleading for one’s life is the nature of living beings, so I think that’s unavoidable.”

“Then perhaps a dignified slaughter would preserve some semblance of dignity. Everyone prepare to fire. Target the fire truck and black van with precision strikes, but leave enough firepower to clear the zombies…”

Just then.

V suddenly banged on the car. The fire truck abruptly turned on its high beams, lurched forward, and rammed the black van from behind.

“What’s happening?”

V quickly jumped back into the car. Virginia leaned out of the helicopter. The minigun gunner took position, and the military police gripped their rifles.

“Tilt!”

The helicopter tilted. The military police officers who were waiting for the order to fire grabbed their rifles in panic. Thankfully, their training had kept their fingers off the triggers.

Virginia jerked her head back. A bullet whizzed by with a ping! and hit the ceiling of the helicopter cabin.

“C-Commander!”

Strands of silver-blonde hair fluttered in the air. Virginia regained her posture, brushing back her newly shortened front hair.

“Ha…”

Her purple eyes glowed with a strange light, as if boiling. Her cheeks flushed red. Her black-lipsticked lips twitched—the excitement of a gourmet facing a delicious meal.

“Minigun, what is the minigun gunner doing! Right now…!”

“No. It’s pointless. The firing angle is wrong. Throw grenades!”

A military police officer threw a grenade with its safety pin removed. Less than a second later, the helicopter shook. They heard something hitting the underside with a thudding sound.

The violent maneuver caused the military police officers to hit their heads on the ceiling.

“W-what happened?!”

“Something exploded below the helicopter! Do they have anti-aircraft weapons?”

The air squadron commander and co-pilot were busy stabilizing the helicopter. Fortunately, it wasn’t a critical hit, but sharp maneuvers were now difficult.

“No, as far as we know…!”

“He shot down the thrown grenade.”

Everyone was shocked at the calm voice.

“…What did you say, Special Task Commander?”

“Exactly what I said. Our personnel threw a grenade, and the man in that van shot it down.”

“…How?”

“That man is now lying in the van and shooting. With his legs wrapped around the passenger seat, his head resting on the driver’s seat, and his rifle stabilized on the window frame. It’s possible because the fire truck is pushing him steadily from behind.”

“It must be a coincidence. There can’t be that kind of marksman.”

“It’s not a coincidence. Intelligence Officer.”

Virginia opened a long bag. She had insisted on carrying it herself, so everyone had let her.

“Squadron Commander, I apologize for the trouble, but please adjust the minigun’s firing angle. Leticia, tell the other helicopters to proceed with the operation as planned—identify and escort the convoy. However, Angels 4 and 5 will fire on the fire truck and van. Leave the miniguns and rockets for ‘zombie cleanup’ and use riflemen.”

While Leticia was busy relaying the orders, the squadron commander asked:

“Special Task Commander, the van is one thing, but the fire truck’s armor is extremely thick. Rifle bullets won’t penetrate it.”

“Then I’ll handle that myself.”

The bag opened. The military police officers were .

Inside was something shaped like a revolver. No, it was too large to be called a pistol.

It was incredibly long, large, heavy-looking, and elegant. It was truly a chunk of metal. It was hard to tell if it was meant to fire bullets or grenades.

Understandably so. They had never seen a revolver with a 26cm barrel length before. Engraved on the barrel of this questionably practical revolver was a single snake.

Virginia loaded bullets into the revolver’s cylinder. One. Two. Three… seven. Rifle bullets could be seen hitting the sides of the fire truck and van. Soon, flames erupted from the left rocket launcher of Angel 4.

– Angel 4, hit! Angel 4 hit! Left launcher lost!

– That crazy bastard shot this! See? That crazy son of a bitch shot and hit this! Retreat! Retreating!

Ignoring the flood of radio chatter, Virginia extended her arm straight out.

And,

fired.

* * * * *

Fire truck.

“That guy’s insane.”

A man armed with a rifle kept exclaiming in amazement.

The driver of the cash transport van got out and suddenly started dancing. Seeing him turning his head and flicking his wrists, they thought he might have finally lost his mind. But that wasn’t it.

“That’s… V, right?”

It was just as Camilla pointed out. That man was indeed V. How else could someone think to draw such a symbol in this situation?

“He must be like us. If he’s a Western spy, he can’t afford to be captured here.”

“I suppose so?”

“It’s frustrating not being able to communicate.”

“I’ll flash the high beams, sister.”

Flash. Flash. The man frantically signaled toward the fire truck. He kept hitting his palm with his fist, alternately pointing at the van and the fire truck.

“…Is he asking us to ram him from behind?”

“We have to hit that van anyway if we want to get out. We have no choice. We don’t want to be captured.”

“…Everyone. I’m sorry.”

Camilla hung her head.

“I didn’t expect things to turn out this way. I should have been more resolute.”

“What are you saying, sister? We’re the ones who left the decision to you. You don’t need to blame yourself.”

“That’s right.”

“Anyone would have done the same, sis. When we heard the hostages were released, of course we had to come. What happened to our other comrades has now happened to us. So…”

But the liberation fighter was holding back tears. Camilla reached out her hands to both sides. The four liberation fighters held each other’s hands.

“…For Elza.”

“For Elza.”

V had already finished preparing. The rifleman pressed the accelerator. He gently bumped the back of the van and accelerated. Fortunately, the timing was perfect. V quickly slipped into the car and extended his rifle from the driver’s seat to fire.

“…What’s he doing? How can he shoot from that angle?”

“He’s lying down.”

Camilla marveled. The rifleman misheard and asked, “Pardon?” Camilla’s face lit up with joy.

“He’s lying down! We’re pushing him, so he doesn’t need to drive!”

“But how can he hit a helicopter with a rifle—”

A loud explosion rang out in the air. Black smoke spread from the underside of the helicopter. Unfortunately, the fuel tank didn’t rupture, only suffering some shrapnel damage, but it was enough to force the helicopter to retreat.

“…What did he do?”

“I don’t know, but let’s focus! Provide covering fire if we can!”

“Helicopter on the right!”

Rat-tat-tat! They could see the armor plating deforming. It was rifle fire. It looked like someone punching steel plate, but it didn’t penetrate.

“Can this work? Is it possible?”

An M4 rifle extended from the passenger side of the van. Tat-tat-tat, it fired in bursts of two or three. Flames erupted from the footboard of a helicopter approaching from the right. The rocket launcher had caught fire.

“…There are people who can actually do that?”

Camilla muttered in disbelief. She had considered herself quite skilled at shooting, but the man ahead seemed to be in a realm she could never reach.

“He’s not as good as you, sister.”

The rifleman in the driver’s seat grinned. Camilla was about to tell him not to say such things. She appreciated the encouragement, but…

That’s when it happened. A silver flash reflected through the driver’s side window. It was the reflection from a sniper rifle. Camilla instinctively shouted.

Thud.

In one shot, the bulletproof panel was pierced and the glass cracked.

“Huh.”

Thud.

The rifleman flinched. A hole appeared in his head. Blood splattered across Camilla’s face.