Chapter 145: Air Supports
The person she was addressing was none other than Andre. The Siberian tiger shifter stood alone at the forefront of the zombie tide. His body, over five meters long, was battered and bruised. His tail hung limply, broken, and two ribs jutted grotesquely from his side—injuries dealt by a Mutated Lord. Still, he fought with unyielding determination. "I'm the fearless Siberian tiger! King of the jungle!" Andre roared, his voice shaky but filled with pride.
"Siberian tiger? Just say tiger! Why are you bringing Siberia into this?" Erza retorted through gritted teeth, her sarcasm automatic even in the heat of battle. Behind them, the high wall defenses began to falter. Soldiers and security teams scrambled to find any remaining ammunition, but every supply run came back empty-handed.
"It's over! We can't hold the line!" The morale of the troops shattered as the gunfire ceased. Without the constant barrage of bullets, the deafening roar of the zombie horde filled the air, reigniting old fears of the apocalypse. Memories of the early days of the end times—of terror and helplessness—flooded back, and panic spread like wildfire.
The first wave of retreat began. "NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO RUN!" On the wall, Scott grabbed a megaphone and bellowed at the top of his lungs. His voice carried a mix of anger and desperation. "Anyone who retreats will be court-martialed! STAND YOUR GROUND!" But even as he shouted, doubt crept into his heart. The tide of death was relentless, and the line between survival and annihilation grew thinner by the second. "Others are down there risking everything, fighting for their lives!" Scott bellowed, his voice raw and hoarse from shouting. "And we're up here, hiding behind the wall with empty guns? Are we cowards?" His voice cracked as he continued, veins bulging on his forehead. "They've been holding the line for so long—it's about damn time we take our turn!"
"But we're out of bullets!" someone shouted back.
"Then use knives! Use stones! Use your fists if you have to!" Scott roared, pacing the wall with a fiery determination. "We are not weaklings! If those fearless people can do it, then so can we!" The weight of his words filled the air. "Open the gates!" Scott demanded. "Anyone with the heart to fight, follow me! We will not retreat, even if it means dying here!"
His final cry echoed like a thunderclap: "I WILL NOT RETREAT!" "Don't retreat!" "Even if we die, we don't retreat!" "Let's go!"
Emboldened by Scott's ferocity, the soldiers began to move. Bayonets were fixed to rifles, and those without proper weapons grabbed steel pipes, wooden planks, or anything else they could wield. But courage wasn't universal. As the soldiers rallied, some broke away, retreating into the depths of the base in fear. "Forwards!" Scott roared, leading the charge.
The gates swung open, and he and the remaining soldiers stormed into the horde of undead, their battle cries piercing through the chaos. Several mutants took the lead, cutting through the zombie tide like living weapons. Even Scarlett, calm and emotionless as ever, wielded a blade and pushed forward without hesitation. "Are you all crazy? You're just throwing your lives away!" Erza shouted from her position, struggling to maintain control of the fire dragons protecting the line.
"Better to die fighting than die running!" one mutant shouted back.