Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 55: New Threat in the Sky

The battle had been raging for eighteen hours straight.

The soldiers on the front lines were exhausted and stretched to their limits. But Thomas knew there was no room for rest. The enemy was relentless.

MOA's defensive perimeter was still holding, but barely. The ground was covered in charred remains, pools of black ichor, and shredded corpses of Mawbeasts, Juggernauts, and thousands of undead. Shell casings and discarded magazines littered the battlefield.

And yet, the horde kept coming.

Thomas crouched behind a destroyed IFV, quickly swapping his empty magazine for a fresh one. His HK416 was running hot from continuous fire, but he had no choice. The left flank was under siege.

"KEEP FIRING!" Thomas shouted as he rose from cover, unleashing a controlled burst into an advancing Mawbeast. His rounds tore through its chest, causing it to stagger, but it still lunged forward.

BANG! BANG!

Two well-placed shots to the head finally put it down.

Phillip, positioned to Thomas's right, fired his SCAR-H, dropping a Strangler mid-air before it could latch onto a soldier. The creature let out a shriek before collapsing into the mud.

"Boss, this is getting ridiculous," Phillip grunted, ejecting an empty magazine and slamming in a new one. "We've been fighting for almost a day straight, and they're still pouring in!"

Thomas reloaded quickly, scanning the battlefield.

The trenches were a choking mess of blood, debris, and burning corpses. Abrams tanks, their armor blackened from battle, continued blasting holes into the horde, while flamethrower teams worked overtime torching any undead that got too close.

"Incoming!" a soldier screamed.

Thomas turned just in time to see a Juggernaut barreling toward the southern barricade, its massive arms raised to smash through the line.

"AP SHELLS! NOW!"

BOOOOOM!

A 120mm APFSDS round from an Abrams tank slammed into the Juggernaut's chest, punching a hole straight through its hardened exterior. The creature staggered, but it wasn't dead.

BOOOM!

A Hellfire missile from an Apache screamed through the air, striking the exposed wound. The Juggernaut let out a deafening roar before collapsing onto the remains of a destroyed Humvee, its body twitching before going still.

Another one down.

But Thomas knew it wasn't over.

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A brief moment of silence fell over the battlefield, but it wasn't peace. It was a shift—something was changing.

Phillip wiped sweat from his brow. "You feel that?"

Thomas did.

A strange pressure hung in the air, as if something unnatural was watching them.

"Drone recon, report," Thomas said into his radio.

"We're picking up something weird, Commander," the drone operator responded. "There's movement above us."

Before Thomas could respond, a blood-curdling shriek tore through the sky.

It was not a Mawbeast.

It was something new.

WHOOSH!

A massive winged creature dropped from the sky like a living missile, snatching a soldier off the barricade before anyone could react.

The man screamed as the monster carried him high above the battlefield, flailing in sheer terror.

Then—

SNAP!

With one powerful bite, the creature severed the soldier's head clean off, his decapitated body convulsing as it was unceremoniously dropped back onto the battlefield.

The headless corpse crashed into the trenches, sending soldiers into a panic.

"HOLY SHIT!" someone shouted.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!"

The creature let out another high-pitched screech, circling just beyond the reach of the Apache gunships.

Thomas didn't hesitate.

"KILL IT!" he barked.

The creature banked hard, then dove toward the trenches, its bat-like wings outstretched, talons extended to grab another victim.

"FIRE!"

BRRRRRRRTTTTT!

The 30mm chain guns of the Apaches opened up, raking the sky with tungsten rounds.

The creature twisted unnaturally in mid-air, dodging some of the bullets, but a few rounds struck its left wing.

It screeched, momentarily losing control, before it regained its balance, flapping hard and retreating back into the darkened clouds above.

"Drone operator, what the hell are we dealing with?!" Thomas demanded.

"Sir… We've got a swarm of those things approaching," the operator said, his voice tense. "Estimate dozens, possibly hundreds."

Thomas's stomach dropped.

One had been bad enough.

A swarm was a nightmare.

"ALL UNITS! FOCUS ON THE SKY!" Thomas roared into his radio.

"Avenger teams, lock onto those targets!" Marcus's voice came through the comms.

The Avenger missile launchers repositioned, their targeting systems locking onto the flying creatures.

"Target acquired—launching!"

WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!

Stinger missiles shot into the sky, tracking the airborne threats.

A handful of direct hits exploded mid-air, tearing apart several creatures instantly. Their mangled remains fell like meteorites, crashing into the burning battlefield below.

But many of them dodged, twisting their bodies mid-flight, avoiding the missiles with inhuman precision.

Then, they dove.

"Here they come!" Phillip shouted.

Thomas spun, aiming upward as a Reaper swooped down, claws extended toward him.

He unloaded a burst of 5.56mm rounds into its chest, causing it to shriek in pain. But it didn't stop.

The creature slammed into him, knocking him off his feet.

"SIR!" Phillip shouted.

The Reaper pinned Thomas to the ground, its mouth snapping inches from his face.

He grabbed his combat knife and slammed it into the side of its skull.

The creature twitched violently, black ichor spilling from the wound, but it still fought.

It took all of Thomas's strength to keep its razor-sharp teeth from tearing into his throat.

Then—

BANG!

A sniper round tore through the Reaper's head, sending it slumping lifelessly onto Thomas.

Phillip ran up and yanked the corpse off him.

"You okay?!"

Thomas coughed, wiping the disgusting ichor from his face.

"Yeah…" He exhaled. "But these things are worse than anything we've fought so far."

He looked up.

The sky was filled with them now.

Thomas's grip on his HK416 tightened as he stared up at the sky. The creatures—the Reapers—weren't just circling anymore. They were preparing for a full assault.

The sky above MOA was a storm of black wings and piercing red eyes, dozens—no, hundreds—of the flying abominations flapping in unison, their unnatural screeches blending into a terrifying chorus.

He had never seen anything like this.