Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 69: Finally Some Familiar Faces

The rumbling of heavy engines filled the air as five JLTV Oshkosh vehicles maneuvered into position, encircling the battered Ford Territory, cutting off all possible escape routes.

Inside the SUV, Erica gripped the seat, her breathing shallow.

"We’re trapped," she muttered, her eyes darting between the towering vehicles.

Thomas, however, remained unnervingly calm, his expression unreadable as he watched the military convoy tighten their formation.

"What the hell is this?" Erica’s voice edged toward panic. "Are these guys enemies? Are we about to get shot?"

Thomas didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied the approaching lead JLTV as its passenger door swung open.

A man clad in tactical gear, carrying a HK416, stepped out. His confident stride, relaxed posture, and easy smirk gave Thomas all the confirmation he needed.

Phillip.

The moment their eyes met, Phillip rapped his knuckles against the cracked driver’s-side window.

"Driver’s license and registration," he quipped, the hint of a grin on his face.

Thomas exhaled a tired chuckle before reaching out and bumping his fist against Phillip’s arm.

"Good to see you, too," Thomas muttered.

"Welcome back, boss," Phillip said, his eyes sweeping over the vehicle’s ruined state. The shattered windshield, the dents from undead bodies, and the blood smears all told a story of survival. "Looks like you had fun out here."

Thomas scoffed. "Yeah, a real blast."

Phillip leaned slightly, his gaze shifting to Erica in the passenger seat. "And who’s this?" He smirked. "Don’t tell me you’ve started picking up girls after being kidnapped by a Reaper."

Erica blinked in disbelief. "Excuse me?!"

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. "Right, I haven’t introduced you guys." He turned to Erica. "What’s your name?"

"Erica," she said hesitantly, still eyeing the armed soldiers warily.

Thomas nodded. "Phillip, this is Erica. She’s the one who saved my ass while I was out here."

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Phillip raised an eyebrow. "Your savior, huh?" He extended a gloved hand toward Erica. "In that case, thanks for keeping him alive. We’d be kinda screwed without him."

Erica hesitated for a second before shaking his hand. "Uh… sure. No problem."

Phillip took a step back, surveying Thomas again. "So, boss, what do you need?"

Thomas sighed, stretching his stiff arms. "A good night’s sleep, a hot bath, and some damn good food."

Phillip grinned. "Then let’s get you home."

"Wait—who are they? Who are you?" Erica asked with a dumbfounded expression.

"My men and Thomas respectively," Thomas answered. "Come on now, we are safe, let’s hop out."

Thomas exited the battered Ford Territory, stretching his stiff limbs as the cool night air brushed against his skin.

Behind him, Erica remained seated, still gripping the edge of her seat, her mind struggling to process everything.

Thomas’s men?

Who even was he?

Up until now, she had assumed he was just another survivor—one who got lucky. But seeing the way these heavily armed soldiers responded to him, how they treated him with familiarity and respect, it was clear he was something more.

She wasn’t just traveling with some regular survivor—she had been with someone important.

Phillip folded his arms, watching as Thomas took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders.

Then, his nose crinkled.

"Jesus Christ," Phillip muttered, taking a step back. "You smell like a goddamn corpse, boss."

Thomas smirked. "Gee, thanks, Phil. You always know how to make a guy feel welcome."

Phillip shook his head, waving his hand in front of his face. "No, seriously. That zombie stench is caked into you. You need a decontamination bath before you step foot anywhere near civilization."

Thomas glanced down at himself, his once-dark clothes now stiff and crusted with dried blood, dirt, and God knows what else. He reeked of death and decay, and honestly, he was too damn tired to care.

"Yeah, yeah," Thomas muttered. "I’ll deal with it when we get back."

Phillip shot him a look. "No, you’ll deal with it before we get back. No way in hell I’m letting you sit in one of the JLTVs smelling like that."

Thomas shot him a glare.

Phillip raised his hand. "Of course, I’m just messing with you sir."

Thomas exhaled.

Thomas exhaled, but before he could reply, Erica finally stepped out of the vehicle.

She hesitated for a moment, taking in the scene before her—the towering armored vehicles, the well-equipped soldiers, the disciplined way they moved.

Her fingers curled into fists as she turned toward Thomas.

"Okay, what the hell is going on?" she demanded. "I just risked my life to help you escape, and now suddenly you’re some kind of big shot leader with a private army?!"

Thomas rubbed his temple, exhausted. He had expected this reaction.

"It’s… complicated," he admitted.

Phillip chuckled, leaning against his JLTV. "Yeah, you could say that."

Erica glared at both of them. "You better start uncomplicating it, because I just went through hell thinking we were both regular survivors!"

Thomas exhaled. "Look, I appreciate what you did back there. You didn’t have to help me, but you did. I won’t forget that."

He gestured to the heavily armed convoy around them.

"But the truth is—I’m not just a survivor. I’m in charge of this place."

Erica’s eyes narrowed. "You’re their leader?"

Phillip grinned. "Not just a leader. He’s the Supreme Commander of the private army. We don’t have a name yet but it’s going to be a catchy one when our boss came up with one, right boss?"

Erica’s jaw nearly dropped. "You’re kidding."

"Nope," Phillip said, still smirking. "He’s the reason MOA is still standing. If it weren’t for him, we’d all be dead."

Erica turned back to Thomas, stunned. "So, what, you’re some kind of military officer?"

Thomas shook his head. "No. Let’s save the question and answer for later. Aren’t you tired from running from zombies and fighting them?"

That answer didn’t explain much—but before Erica could press further, Phillip clapped his hands.

"Alright, alright, enough questions for now. Boss needs a bath, food, and some actual sleep. Let’s move before more of those freaks show up."

Phillip waved over one of the operators, who pulled a spare tarp from the back of the JLTV.

"Strip," Phillip said.

Thomas blinked. "What?"

"You heard me," Phillip said, tossing him a canister of military-grade disinfectant spray. "Take off your clothes, spray yourself down, and wrap yourself in the tarp. No one is letting you inside smelling like that. Come on sir, we may be your summ—I mean men, but we still can smell."

Thomas groaned. "This is humiliating."

Phillip smirked. "No, what’s humiliating is walking around smelling like a zombie’s ass. Just do it."

Thomas grumbled, but at this point, he was too tired to argue.

With a sigh, he peeled off his ruined, blood-stained shirt, tossing it aside. The cold night air stung his skin, but the real discomfort came when he sprayed the disinfectant over his arms, torso, and legs.

The chemical burned slightly, but it was better than carrying the stench of death back to base.

Erica, meanwhile, had turned away, arms crossed.

"This is so weird," she muttered.

Phillip grinned. "Welcome to Thomas’ world. And you will do that as well."

"Excuse me?" Erica shot him a glare.

"Look, our leader was no exception, you are going to do it," Phillip said, leaving no room for rebuttal.

"Fine…" Erica removed her clothing except from her bra and panties and sprayed herself with disinfectant and after that, one of the soldiers handed her a tarp, which she used to cover herself.

Satisfied, Phillip patted the side of his JLTV and grabbed his radio. "Alright, let’s get out of here. Command this is Bishop Actual—Eagle is secured, we are RTB, out here."