Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 64: Being Strategic

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The Northrop Grumman MQ-8 Fire Scout hovered silently over the ruined city, its high-resolution cameras scanning every street, every rooftop, every possible location where Eagle—Thomas—could have landed.

Inside the command center, Marcus leaned over the console, his sharp eyes locked onto the live feed displayed on multiple monitors. The drone's thermal imaging painted the streets below in eerie contrast, thousands of undead bodies appearing as cold, lifeless masses as they shuffled relentlessly toward MOA.

"Still nothing?" Marcus muttered, rubbing his temple in frustration.

A systems officer shook his head. "Negative, sir. We've scanned the rooftops, main roads, and collapsed structures, but there are no obvious signs of life."

Marcus exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the table. He knew Thomas was alive—if he wasn't, the system would have notified them. That meant he was somewhere, possibly injured or trapped, in this godforsaken city.

"We need to refine our search," Marcus said, turning to the UAV operator. "Looking for a single person in a city this big is impossible. What about irregularities? Any unusual movement patterns?"

The operator adjusted the drone's parameters, switching between infrared, radar mapping, and movement tracking. The feed displayed wave after wave of zombies marching toward MOA, their numbers seemingly endless.

"Sir, we've got too many irregularities," the system officer reported. "There are collapsed buildings, overturned vehicles, and some structures showing signs of recent movement, but that could mean anything—zombies, survivors, looters."

Marcus clenched his jaw. "Damn it. We need something more specific."

The drone continued its methodical sweep, passing over Makati, Binondo, Pasay, and other key districts. The skyscrapers were either completely abandoned or overtaken by the infected, and the streets were too densely packed to make out anything useful.

After three hours of searching, frustration grew in the command center.

"This isn't working," the system officer muttered. "We could be wasting time looking at a hundred different places while Eagle is holed up somewhere completely off our radar."

Marcus knew he was right. Searching a ruined city block-by-block was beyond inefficient. They needed a lead.

He turned to Adrian. "If Eagle's alive, he's probably staying low. If it were you, where would you go?"

Adrian considered for a moment. "Someplace high up, with visibility and an escape route. He wouldn't be on the ground, not with that many zombies out there."

Marcus nodded. "Then we focus on rooftops, specifically ones that have signs of disturbance or recent entry."

The operator adjusted the Fire Scout's parameters again, narrowing its search to high-rise buildings that showed signs of activity—open doors, missing barricades, movement other than zombies.

Hours passed—and then it was still nothing.

"This is why we should focus first on clearing the wave first and then find him after," Adrian said, he too was being frustrated. Even though they were summoned with unwavering loyalty to their summoner, Thomas, they too have to think strategically as they were military officials.

"Think about it, once we finish the wave, he'll gain access to his system, acquire a radio—"

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"That's not simple. Even if Eagle acquires a radio from the system, it won't do us any good if he doesn't know how to use one properly."

Adrian turned toward him. "He could figure it out."

Marcus shook his head. "Radios aren't just plug-and-play. If he doesn't know the frequency we're using, or if he doesn't even understand how to configure it, he could be trying to reach us and failing. And if we have no way of detecting his transmission, then it's useless."

Adrian exhaled, rubbing his forehead. "So what? We keep blindly searching?"

Marcus sighed, looking at the large map pinned to the strategy board. The UAV had already swept through most of their search radius, but the problem was that there were too many possible locations. Thomas could be holed up in any number of skyscrapers, small shelters, abandoned buildings, or even underground structures.

"His best chance of survival isn't waiting for us to find him," Adrian said, stepping up next to Marcus. "It's getting back to MOA himself."

Marcus turned toward him, listening.

"Think about it," Adrian continued. "Even if he's close, finding one person in the ruins of Metro Manila is an almost impossible task. Hell, we don't even know for sure if he's staying put or moving around. What if we check one rooftop, but by the time we send a team, he's already left? We'd be wasting resources."

Marcus clenched his jaw, knowing he had a point. "So you're saying our best move is to let him come to us?"

"It's the most efficient move," Adrian replied. "We hold the strongest defensive position in Manila, we have aerial reconnaissance, and we control the largest operational zone in the city. If he starts heading back, we'll have a much better chance of spotting him and guiding him in."

Marcus was silent for a moment, weighing the options.

Continue searching blindly and risk wasting time, or trust that Thomas will make his way back and use their assets to support his approach.

It wasn't the safest plan. But it was the most practical.

"Very well, but we are still looking for our Supreme Commander," Marcus declared.

"Of course we will, without him, we are going to be useless in this world," Adrian said.

***

Two days later.

Thomas checked the kill count.

[767,321/800,000]

It's nearing completion. At this rate, his army in the MOA complex would finish the mission before midnight.

However—.

The thunderous impact of something landing on the rooftop shook the ground.

Thomas and Erica froze.

A deep, guttural screech pierced the air, the familiar, horrifying sound of a Reaper.

Erica's eyes widened in fear. "Tell me that's not what I think it is…"

Thomas' expression hardened. He already knew.

"It's a Reaper," he muttered, gripping his bat. He approached the door carefully and opened it ajar and peeked outside.

His stomach tightened.

The Reaper was there, its grotesque, bat-like wings folding against its monstrous frame as it sniffed the air, its hollow, predatory eyes scanning the rooftop.

It knew something was here.

Thomas closed the door as silently as possible, turning back to Erica. "It's right outside."

Erica's breath hitched. "What the hell do we do?" she whispered.

Thomas clenched his jaw, assessing the situation. They had two options.

Option one: Stay hidden and hope the Reaper loses interest.

Option two: Move—but they'd have to cross the rooftop, right in its line of sight.

The moment they ran, it would chase them.

And if it caught them?

They wouldn't be getting a second chance.

The Reaper suddenly let out a shrill, earsplitting shriek.

It was charging.

Toward the storage room.

Thomas reacted instantly. He grabbed Erica's wrist. "We have to move. Now."

Erica nodded rapidly, adrenaline surging through her body. "Where?"

"The stairwell. We can't stay here."

"But we'll have to run past it!"

Thomas tightened his grip on his bat, gritting his teeth. "I'll distract it. You run."

Erica's eyes widened. "That's—no! That's insane!"

"It's our best shot," Thomas insisted, already preparing himself. "I'll buy you time. When I say go, you run to the stairwell. No looking back."

Erica hesitated. The doorframe shook violently as the Reaper rammed into it again.

There's no time to argue.

Thomas locked eyes with her. "Do you trust me?"

Erica swallowed hard, then nodded.

CRACK!

The doorframe splintered.

"Go," Thomas whispered.

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