Chapter 66: The Whole Family Goes Out
Kensington could be considered a University City, with over a dozen nationally renowned universities in the vicinity.
Some were close to the city center, while others were farther away.
Currently, the military was using the sports center as a starting point to push out and clear zombies from other areas of the base.
The destination for Luna Dawson and her group this time was the yet-to-be-liberated University City in the base’s southeastern quadrant.
The areas around the universities were well-developed, with food streets, office buildings, and all sorts of shops, which meant they could also scavenge for supplies.
The group tried everything from praise to song, but they failed to win over Little Sweet Potato’s heart and could only climb into the car in defeat.
Luna Dawson put Little Tiger and Rollo into her space, and the two-car convoy set off with great momentum.
Their destination this time was the University of Economics and Trade and the University of Media Arts, over forty kilometers away. Combined, the two campuses likely had tens of thousands of people who had turned into zombies—more than enough for the family to have a good, thorough cleanup.
Along the way, they found signs that the military had cleared some of the main roads. The base’s perimeter walls would likely be completed soon.
’I’ll have to speed up the Crystal Core collection this time,’ Luna Dawson thought. ’Otherwise, all the commotion I’m causing might attract the military’s attention.’
The family made it to the vicinity of the university campuses without much trouble.
Although this area was far from the city center, it had a large permanent population, and plenty of zombies roamed the streets.
The family proceeded in a stop-and-go fashion, clearing out zombies as if playing a matching game.
Luna Dawson even collected all the abandoned vehicles along the way into her space. Wherever they passed, only the bodies of zombies were left lying on the ground.
The car swayed and crept forward over a road overgrown with roots and branches. They were still several kilometers from the universities when they found the path ahead completely blocked by a pile of abandoned vehicles.
Rusted car bodies were crammed together, with shattered glass scattered on the ground. A single glance was enough to see there was no way through.
Blake Blue quickly slammed on the brakes. The vehicle swayed slightly before coming to a steady stop.
Luna Dawson was just about to lean out to see what was ahead, but Evan Olson had already pushed open his door and jumped out. His movements were crisp and efficient; he landed lightly, absorbing the impact, and quickly scanned the surroundings before looking up to assess the roadblock, searching for a passable gap.
Just as he steadied himself, the intermittent sound of gunfire drifted over on the wind. It wasn’t very loud, but every shot was perfectly clear.
The others getting out of the car behind him heard it too. Their relatively relaxed expressions froze for a moment, but they didn’t panic. They just subconsciously huddled a little closer, a new wariness in their eyes.
Evan Olson tilted his head, listening intently for a few seconds. His fingertips tapped unconsciously at his side—a habitual gesture from his time in the military for judging the direction and intensity of gunfire.
He then dropped his hand and said with certainty, "Our country has strict gun control. In the apocalypse, the only ones with this kind of firepower are most likely the military. Judging by the distribution of the shots, it’s probably a small unit in a defensive formation."
Kevin Keane listened as well, raising an eyebrow slightly. He added, "Their ammo shortage must be significant. The intervals between shots are getting longer, and the rhythm is erratic, lacking the cohesiveness of tactical coordination.
It sounds more like they’re conserving ammunition, using precise single shots rather than suppressive fire. In the military, this kind of output is almost always a sign that they’re about to run out of ammo."
After all, they had both served in the military and could pick up on details in the gunfire that an ordinary person would miss.
Hearing this, the group’s expressions grew a little more serious. Encountering the military was, after all, good news.
However, with the soldiers low on ammunition, whether they could handle the situation depended on the number and level of the zombies they were facing.
"Should we go help them?"
Wayne Dawson spoke up. In the hearts of the people of Celestia, soldiers held a very high status.
Lynn Shelby was the first to voice an opinion. "I don’t care. Either way is fine with me."
"Me too. I’ll go with whatever the group decides."
Miles Dawson didn’t know enough to tell if the gunfire signaled a critical situation, so he could only go with the flow.
Mrs. Dawson quickly said, "If there are soldiers out there who might need rescuing, we should go and see. They’re out here to save us civilians, so we should help if we can."
The grandfather was also inclined to help. "Rosalind is right. We should help if we can."
Luna Dawson was also leaning toward helping. In her past life, she had survived as an ordinary Superpower User thanks to the military’s rescue efforts on many occasions. She had always felt a sense of gratitude toward soldiers.
But now they were a team, and she had to ask for everyone’s opinion.
Luna Dawson looked at everyone. "Let’s take a vote. If everyone wants to go, we’ll go."
Wayne Dawson glanced at the group and began to count. "Alright! Hector gets a vote too. I’ll count to three, and everyone who agrees to go, raise your hand. Three... two... one..."
In the end, it was unanimous. Hector raised his little hand high in the air.
"We’re still too far away. Let’s get closer to the source of the sound, and I’ll use my perception to see how many people and zombies there are."
After Luna Dawson spoke, she, Kevin Keane, and Evan Olson took the lead, while Blake Blue, Lynn Shelby, and Aaron Palmer brought up the rear.
The group moved forward with their guns raised, fingers resting near the triggers, ready for any surprises.
In an alley, Luna Dawson thought for a moment and decided to release a Marauder from her space.
She had her grandfather, Mrs. Dawson, Rhonda Dawson, and Hector get into the vehicle first, then told Miles Dawson and Wayne Dawson to get in as well to protect them.
She told them the rest of the team would return after dealing with the zombie horde. Time was short, so the people in the vehicle didn’t waste words, simply nodding and telling them to focus on the rescue.
The members of the rescue party continued onward for about another kilometer.
Luna Dawson’s expression tightened. "The situation is not good. About five hundred meters ahead, there are at least a thousand zombies, including quite a few Tier 1 mutants. The gunfire is continuously drawing in more from the surrounding area. There are four military trucks with about a hundred soldiers and forty to fifty survivors. They’re completely surrounded."
They all exchanged glances and quickened their pace. "A thousand zombies? And mutants? No wonder the gunfire was so sporadic. They must be too tied up to get away."
As they got closer, the group could clearly see the chaotic scene ahead.
Four military trucks were arranged in a triangular formation. The lead truck was at the front, its hood dented and deformed from zombie impacts, its windshield shattered.
Several soldiers were positioned on the hood and along the sides of the truck, struggling to fire at the surging horde.
The two trucks in the middle were pressed close together, their cargo beds packed with survivors. Many soldiers stood guard at the edges, using their rifle butts and bayonets to fight off zombies climbing aboard.
The last truck brought up the rear. Its cargo bay doors were wide open, and a dozen or so soldiers had formed a defensive line, desperately holding back the zombies pursuing them from behind.
Bullets thudded dully into zombie flesh. Every so often, a soldier would be wounded by a superpower, forced to grit their teeth and fall back, only for someone else to immediately fill the gap.
"That’s the insignia of the Central Military Region!"
Aaron Palmer recognized the emblem on the military trucks at a glance, and his heart instantly sped up. It was, after all, the military region where he had previously served.
The rest of the group also noticed something was wrong. The attack rhythm of the several dozen zombies closest to the trucks was unusually orderly.
Instead of the chaotic, frenzied swarming of normal zombies, they seemed to be under someone’s command, specifically targeting the weak points in the military’s defensive line.
"Something’s not right. There’s something wrong with these zombies."
Luna Dawson said in a low voice, having witnessed the power of Spiritual System zombies in her past life, "It’s like they’re being controlled!"
Her words had barely faded when a commotion suddenly erupted in the back of one of the military trucks, behind the crowd of survivors.