Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 47: I Have Seen You Before

The Guadalupe Bridge had been destroyed, forcing the horde to reroute. The new priority was securing the alternate crossings before the undead could reach MOA.

"We're sending fireteams to each bridge," Thomas ordered. "We hold those crossings at all costs."

Elias Carter, Chief of Army, nodded. "Fireteams will deploy via Black Hawks. Each team consists of seven riflemen and three heavy gunners. They'll establish a defensive perimeter and eliminate anything that moves."

Adrian Vance, Chief of Air Force, added, "We'll keep the Black Hawks on station above each fireteam to provide air support with M134 miniguns."

Marcus Holt turned to the comms officer. "Get those birds in the air. We move now."

The sound of helicopter rotors filled the air.

Three UH-60 Black Hawk helicopters were fueled and armed, their side-mounted M134 miniguns prepped for fire support. Soldiers loaded onto the aircraft, their weapons checked and ready.

Captain Ryan Keller, leader of Fireteam Alpha, stepped into the Black Hawk as the engines roared.

"Mount up! We move in sixty seconds!"

Fireteam Alpha: Deploying to Makati-Mandaluyong Bridge

Fireteam Bravo: Deploying to Estrella-Pantaleon Bridge

Fireteam Charlie: Deploying to Jones Bridge

"Coming in hot! 30 seconds to drop!"

Inside the Black Hawk, Fireteam Alpha checked their weapons. Seven infantry and three heavy gunners prepped their M4A1 carbines, M240B machine guns, and M67 frag grenades.

The co-pilot relayed intel from the drone feed. "Zombies approaching from the north side. Estimated 2,000 in the first wave."

Keller tightened his grip on his M4A1. "We hold this damn bridge until we get the order to fall back."

"Ten seconds!"

The Black Hawk hovered just above the bridge, side doors open as the fireteam fast-roped down. The moment their boots hit the ground, they moved to cover positions.

"Move, move! Gunners, set up your positions!"

The three M240B machine gunners took up defensive positions, bipods deployed, covering the northbound lanes.

From above, the Black Hawk's minigun spun to life.

"Engaging targets!"

BRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!

The 6,000-round-per-minute M134 minigun ripped through the first wave, bodies dropping like flies as the rounds tore through flesh and bone.

Keller's radio crackled.

"Fireteam Bravo, we've landed at Estrella-Pantaleon. Engaging now."

"Copy, Bravo. Charlie, what's your status?"

"Setting up at Jones Bridge. Contact imminent!"

Keller peeked over his cover. The horde kept coming.

"Machine gunners, lay it down!"

The M240B gunners opened fire, the deep, thunderous sound of their 7.62mm rounds hammering into the undead. Spent casings clattered onto the pavement.

Keller sighted down his M4A1, took a deep breath, and squeezed the trigger.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Headshot. Headshot. Headshot.

The undead collapsed, but more surged forward.

Above, the Black Hawk banked left, its minigun sweeping another column of zombies.

"Shit! We've got fast-movers!"

A dozen zombies in tattered running gear broke from the pack, moving twice as fast as the others.

"Take them out!"

The gunners shifted fire, but a few breached the perimeter.

One lunged at one of the soldiers, tackling him to the ground.

"Get it off me!"

Keller spun, knife drawn, and drove it deep into the zombie's skull, yanking the soldier to his feet.

"Keep your head on a swivel!"

More rounds poured into the horde, but they kept advancing.

"Reloading!" one of the machine gunners yelled.

Keller saw something worse—another wave closing in.

"Black Hawk, we need another pass!"

"Copy, coming around!"

The minigun lit up the bridge once again, mowing down another hundred undead in seconds.

But it wasn't enough.

Keller's radio crackled.

"Command, we've got heavy resistance at Makati bridge!"

Thomas's voice came through. "Hold the line. Air support are en route."

"Copy that, we are holding the line."

The firefight was relentless. The Black Hawks circled above, miniguns spewing hot lead into the endless wave of undead. The soldiers held their ground, their rifles barking as they picked off the advancing zombies. The M240Bs thundered as belt-fed rounds shredded through the front ranks of the horde.

But then... something changed.

A soldier near the edge of the bridge suddenly stopped firing. His breath hitched, eyes wide in horror.

"What the hell is that?" he muttered, gripping his M4A1 tightly.

Keller turned in the direction of the soldier's trembling aim. The camera feed from the soldier's helmet transmitted the footage back to Command.

Thomas, watching from the MOA Command Center, felt his blood run cold.

His eyes widened. "No…"

The unmistakable hulking frame of the Mawbeast came into view, crouched low atop an abandoned delivery truck. Its grotesque, sinewy form rippled as it sniffed the air. Its maw opened, revealing jagged teeth dripping with viscous black saliva.

Then another one appeared.

And another.

A pack of them—twenty in total—crawled from the shadows, their clawed hands gripping the cracked pavement as their deep-set, glowing eyes locked onto the soldiers.

Keller instinctively gritted his teeth, raising his rifle.

"Command, this is Fireteam A. We got incoming! Not zombies—MONSTERS!" he yelled over the radio.

Before anyone could react, the first Mawbeast lunged.

It exploded forward, clearing the 20-meter distance between it and the front line in a single bound. Its razor-sharp claws ripped into the nearest soldier, tearing through body armor like paper.

"AAARGH—!" The soldier's scream was cut short as his head was torn clean off.

"CONTACT!" Keller roared. "OPEN FIRE!"

The soldiers unleashed a barrage of gunfire. The Mawbeasts, however, were fast—inhumanly fast. They zigzagged between vehicles, using the wreckage as cover. Some climbed onto the walls of the buildings while others leaping from rooftop to rooftop like predators closing in on their prey.

Another Mawbeast lunged.

A soldier turned just in time to fire point-blank, the M4A1's 5.56mm rounds punching into its chest—but the monster barely flinched.

It ripped the gun from his hands and snapped his neck with a single twist.

"BLACK HAWK, WE NEED FIRE SUPPORT NOW!" Keller shouted.

The circling UH-60 Black Hawk swooped in, side gunners training their miniguns on the creatures.

"Engaging!" the door gunner confirmed.

BRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!

The M134 minigun unleashed a storm of tungsten rounds, punching through the asphalt as they swept across the pack.

Two Mawbeasts took the brunt of the bullets, their grotesque bodies jerking violently as 7.62mm rounds tore into their flesh. Unlike the undead, which crumpled under sustained fire, these creatures refused to die instantly.

Blackened ichor sprayed from their wounds, but they kept moving—slower, but still moving.

"FUCK! THESE THINGS CAN TAKE A BEATING!" one of the gunners yelled.

The first Mawbeast staggered, its torso riddled with bullet holes. It let out a deep, guttural snarl, limbs twitching, as if the bullets were fueling its rage rather than killing it.

The second one lurched forward, crawling on all fours. Its left arm was hanging by strands of flesh, nearly severed from the M240's gunfire—but it didn't stop.

"KEEP FIRING!" Keller roared.

The M240 gunners squeezed their triggers, emptying their belts into the injured creatures. The first Mawbeast's skull finally cracked open, gray matter and dark blood splattering the pavement as a final burst tore through its head.

The second, still moving, lunged with its remaining arm—but a well-placed burst from a rifleman shredded its kneecap, causing it to collapse.

"Grenade out!"

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One of the soldiers lobbed an M67 frag grenade right onto the downed Mawbeast's back.

BOOM!

A chunk of its body was blown apart, ribs and spine exposed—and yet, even as it twitched violently, it still tried to crawl forward.

Keller stepped forward, drew his M9 Beretta, and emptied the mag into its skull.

POP-POP-POP-POP-POP!

The Mawbeast's body finally went still.

Two down. Eighteen left.

Above, the Black Hawk gunner watched the scene unfold, his hands sweating over the minigun grips.

"They're not going down easy," the co-pilot muttered.

The pilot nodded grimly. "We need to get the hell out of here before—"

THUMP!

Something slammed into the Black Hawk's side.

"What the hell was that?!" the door gunner shouted.

The pilot's blood ran cold as he looked to his left—only to see a Mawbeast clinging onto the Black Hawk's fuselage.

"SHIT! IT'S ON US!"

The creature had leaped from a rooftop, clawing into the armor plating. It let out a shrill, distorted snarl, its glowing eyes locked onto the cockpit.

The gunner swung the minigun to fire, but the Mawbeast climbed over the fuselage, staying out of his line of fire.

"GET THIS THING OFF ME!" the pilot screamed.

Then, before anyone could react, another Mawbeast leaped from a nearby building—straight onto the tail rotor.

CRUNCH!

The entire aircraft shuddered violently.

"WE'VE LOST TAIL CONTROL—"

SPINNING!

The Black Hawk spiraled downward, its fuselage twisting uncontrollably.

The Mawbeast ripped into the tail section, snapping cables and tearing through the stabilizer. The entire aircraft pitched violently, alarms blaring in the cockpit.

"WE'RE GOING DOWN!"

Below, Keller and his fireteam watched in horror as the Black Hawk lost altitude.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

BOOOOOM!

The helicopter slammed into the pavement, sliding across the bridge before crashing into a pile of abandoned vehicles. Flames erupted from the wreckage.

Silence.

Then, movement.

A single Mawbeast crawled out of the burning debris.

Its flesh charred, but its body still moving.

It let out a deep, guttural growl, locking onto the soldiers.

Keller gritted his teeth, raising his rifle.

"Hold the line!"

The Mawbeasts charged.

The soldiers opened fire.

And the real massacre began.