"Strange," I said, still staring after them in surprise. "I thought all infected creatures—even insects and plants—became aggressive after mutation, not cowardly."
"Something's not right here. You're absolutely correct in your assessment. You and I are exceptions—only partially, at that—that only prove the rule. And what's worse, while we received at least brief instructions before deployment (and some afterward) regarding the other known types, I have never encountered these ones at all. And I was overly curious back at the base—more than once narrowly avoiding trouble because of it. And I dislike it more and more." Four Eyes said this without any intention of lowering her rifle, staring tensely in the direction where the creatures had disappeared.
"Yeah, I can't argue with you. It's starting to smell bad," I replied, drawing a gun in addition to my knife. Vector's reflexes constantly assert themselves—I draw it at the slightest suspicion, completely automatically. At the same time, I glanced almost lovingly at the blade of the "shorty."
Yes, my old one broke on Nemesis. But I had an entire squad of government attack dogs at my disposal, so now I have a spare… five of them, to be exact. Yeah, Vector had a genuine fetish for knives, and that particular trait clearly left its mark on me.
"Especially considering that this is most likely a new creation… how I hate that word." I cringed inwardly, given that I myself was a "new creation."
"Quiet. I think I hear something," Four Eyes said, listening intently.
"Yes, me too. It's coming from those insects… and what's worse, I can't see outlines the way I can with living creatures… I'm almost certain we'll have to scramble now — after all, these are hardly ordinary zombies, and only they ignore us," I said, mentally bracing myself. Not that I really need to tense my body; being undead means I'm always physically ready for combat. If only my consciousness were just as cooperative, it would be perfect.
I adjusted my grip on the knife under Yamata's sidelong glance. Yeah—a gesture more than familiar to her, "thanks" to one donor and my excessive greed.
And then, around the corner, a wave of zombies burst out—no, not burst, more like rolled in! At first, I honestly thought there weren't that many of them. But after a couple of moments, when the stream showed no sign of thinning, I pulled myself up short.
What's more, they were clearly moving in our direction. No—that's not right either. They were running!
What's more, the swarm of insects we had encountered earlier had conveniently settled on their backs, their legs buried deep in the bodies of the dead, except for the upper ones, raised like a tarantula poised to jump. The fact that the zombies were reacting to us—and that they were running, despite being ordinary zombies rather than "redheads"—strongly suggested that these insects were controlling them.
"Peaceful creatures… yeah, right," I snorted, moving forward.
Good thing Four Eyes could now shoot much faster and more accurately than a normal person. Her speed and reaction time had increased even compared to her already impressive parameters as a trained fighter. As for rushing into close combat… let's just say it would be unwise for the two of us to do that simultaneously, and in terms of raw combat skill, my current form clearly surpasses Yamata's, and Vector's experience pushes that even further. But Four Eyes is better with a rifle, and no one ever forbade me from using a pistol at close range.
It's a pity we can't simply gun them all down. The zombies are already almost upon us, and if we shoot while retreating, they'll just force us back out of the sewer. There are too many of them. If the main wave crashes against me, we can deal with the rest at our leisure.
A shot rings out, and a bullet whistles past me, piercing the head of one of the fastest runners and lodging itself in the shoulder of the next. Well, yes—it's not particularly difficult to punch through rotten flesh, and these guys have been marinating down here for a long time, so even at first glance they make an even sadder impression than their counterparts topside.
I lunge forward and, ducking under the outstretched arms of another runner, simply cut them off—separating head from body with a reverse stroke. I pivot aside, letting the corpse of a zombie that failed to stop slide past me. These monsters are still terrible at controlling their bodies; otherwise, we'd be in real trouble. Speed is speed, but if their coordination were better, they could simply bury us under sheer mass. The insects either haven't fully settled in—haven't adapted to their hosts yet—or they just have poor control over the dead.
It won't be difficult to do what Four Eyes and I immediately thought of, though it's a shame to waste ammunition. On the other hand, the laboratory should have warehouses—and a security room—so we'll restock soon enough.
Yamata immediately drops a zombie that rushes past with her rifle, then switches weapons, grabbing a captured shotgun—courtesy of the government's special forces. It's far more effective against a crowd at close (or relatively close) range, and reloading a rifle takes longer than picking up a pre-prepared shotgun.
I spin fully and drive my knife to the hilt into the head of a new opponent, then raise my pistol and fire into another's throat. Shaking the blade from what is now definitely dead body; as I pull the blade free, the skull cracks open. I step forward, slipping past grasping hands, and with an upward strike, split the face of the next opponent in half.
A pity it's only the face and part of the skull—so, just to be safe, I finish the job with a reverse stroke, cleaving the head completely in two. Who knows? Maybe that wouldn't have been fatal for these controlled ones otherwise.
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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