The Little Prince in the Ossuary
00021 The Little Prince of the Charnel House
# High Risk High Return, Paso Robles (8)
It was not difficult to find the final entry point of Abel's platoon. It was only there that the road was cleared up. It was enough to climb up on the abandoned SUV and take a look.
Creston Road leaks from Route 101 north-south through the city to the right. The way down to the street was Walnut Drive. At the crossroads, there were wreckage of smashed American vehicles. Fragments of blood and variants soaked in asphalt are random.
Scars, blood, skid marks. Traces of combat scattered all around. Insights and Battle Senses automatically analyzed these traces. An outline of the previous battle emerges in augmented reality. It was a noisy hologram at the limit of its technical grade, but it was enough to predict the precedent.
This intersection is blocked to the south. The fences, houses and roads were obstacles. The Abel squadron must have been ambushed from the side. I know when I see a humvee slammed in the doorway like it was hit by a big iron spike. The other Humvee and the transport truck were destroyed on site. Winter approached and measured the size of the fist marks on the iron slab.
It's about a inch and a half in diameter.
Fortunately, this is not the worst case for specialty and enhanced variants. Winter also knew how to hunt.
‘Mutation Code Grumble'. Based on the size and depth of the marks, the reinforcement rating is the basic Alpha. The number is probably two. ’
Special variants found within the game are named (mutation code), depending on their shape and characteristics.
Grumble. It means thunder. It's a habit of screaming before attacking.
Winter searched for vehicle debris and the remains of American soldiers. Take ammo, grenades, extra handguns and silencers. Two sets of combat rations were also good income.
I look around to see if there are any other clues worth writing about. On the north left side of the intersection, I stopped looking at the automobile supply store. It looked more like a retailer dealing with automotive satellite TV or audio equipment than a full-fledged shop.
As I approached and looked at it, I had nothing to do with this. The windshield was broken, allowing entry without noise. There were many things that winter coveted after stepping on a piece of glass. But I couldn't have it all. I took a miniature TV and a rechargeable radio. TV was to be taken to the camp, and radio was to be used as a noise source as a decoy.
There was a restaurant and a gas station across the street. Winter only confirmed that oil was coming from the main organs and let it go.
Shortly north of that, winter found its first indicator.
“Is that what a health center is...? ”
One of the clues I got from Sergeant Cohen was the health center. If it weren't for the Reading Method, it would have been difficult to find. Single-story buildings that are no different from typical homes. There's only one small sign that tells us it's a health center. It says, "San Luis Obispo County Department of Health."
There's still plenty of room. Winter decided to explore the interior. If there were any survivors left, and if they were injured, there's a good chance they went in looking for medicine. Even if not, consider Sergeant Cohen's injuries. I wish I could find antibiotics, painkillers, splints, pressure bandages.
The health center was an unpredictable structure. A large glass door with windows roughly the same size as the door. It's not just ordinary glass, it's reflective glass. You can't look inside from the outside. Some were blind, even though they were transparent. It meant that it was not a bad place to hide.
Two variants loitering near the side entrance. You draw your knife back and snap one of them. The skull collapses and dies instantly. Kick one of the others in response to the noise. The upward kick raises the chin. Brains shake. It's hard to stand up straight, rather than screaming. He pushes the man in groggy form with his foot and stabs him with his whole body, aiming straight at the center of his glabella.
Phew.
A handful of dead blood splashes over and over. The mutant limb twitches, but moving doesn't mean it's alive. Stronger than humans, but no brain can withstand the destruction of the brain.
Remove the corpse and open the door. It's locked. What do we do? Winter looks around, but there's nothing we can do. The boy approaches the window on the side. The jungle also taps its tip against the glass and gently taps the handle with its remaining hand.
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. Once you have incontinence, you accelerate.
Wake up at once and it'll be chaotic. All variants of the audible will be present. If we don't have the time limit, it won't be bad to collect and kill them all, but that's on the way back later, if we really have time to try.
Small-scale pieces, usually falling into the window. Thief thief. It was small. It's hard to hear if you don't listen. After the proper holes have been made, winter opens the gap of the blinds and looks inside. After a few seconds of moxa, I put my hand in and stutter. Blinds hanging there, but all the locks are there. The window was quickly opened.
Horses are windows. They're bigger than people. I wasn't uncomfortable getting in. The inside of the health center was a mess. I feel dizzy with all the descriptions. It looks like a space used to be a clinic based on the desk facing each other and the charts spilled out.
Bang, bang. Noise you couldn't hear outside. The hallway that followed the sound was a fleshlandscape sprinkled with all sorts of blood. There was a stench in the stuffy air. The door that illuminates through the windows, on the other side of the darkened interior. Five mutants are pounding on the door. Winter dragged the nearby mobile bed and blocked the corridor. Push forward.
“Is it big?”
Mutants attracted attention to the sound of the bed rolling. Bend your head. How creepy it was at first when I saw something like that. I can't feel my heart racing anymore, screaming and screaming. Winter pushes the bed, speeding up, and kicks it away. The bed that rolled into a quark collided with the mutants. Mutants fall tangled with the bed.
Winter ran over it. The two steps that I took stepped on the necks of the two mutants. Crumbling. As the others struggle to grab the bridge, winter climbs on the fallen bed and twists. Carved knives. I got hit by the first guy who got up. Cut transversely from temples. Cut deep inside the orbit, damaging the brain. A variant that burst in both eyes fell down, wrapped around its face, and glowed. It was like a man shed tears. Your brain is clumsy, so you don't die right now. This glow grabs the remaining two ankles and knocks them down again. Winter when mutants glanced down at the tangled mess. I pulled my pistol and shot it three times.
*, *, *. Three broken heads in order. Blended blood and bribes spilled. The old death fades from my nostrils.
Winter approaches the door where the dead beat. Something would be in here, because it wouldn't have been crowded for nothing. Winter knocked on the door.
“Anybody in there? ”
The answer never comes back. Winter knocked calmly again. Still unresponsive. Locked. It was fortunate that the mutants were beaten, and the cracks were opened. Ringer's Hanger is as good as a lever, nearby. I pushed him through the door and pushed him all over. There was a groan. The hanger bends. The hanging door opens shortly.
Doo doo doo doo!
Scratching the silenced rifle with a speaker. If it weren't for the blunt vision in the air, it would have died right away. It is a link between Survival Sense and Combat Sense and Insight. The door bursts open. The sound of debris scattered through the desolate corridor was confusing.
The gunfire ceases. A rattling door, a sighing American soldier in it, and a mummified corpse. The latter looks long dead, but there are several recent bullet holes. Given the status of the U.S. military, it was understandable. It looked like a warehouse. There was a shelf of medicines and first aid supplies. I spilled a lot.
Winter slowly lowers its weapon and takes off its mask.
“Calm down. I'm not here to hurt you. ”
Quickly sweep through the hierarchy and label with your eyes. He was not a soldier.
“…… Sergeant Ashford. ”
I dropped my gun. In the beginning, I held it with one hand, and the followers were shaking. Hasty breathing sergeant rubs his eyes and looks back. Shrunken pupils, sweaty brow.
“You're not hallucinating, are you? ”
“Well, what do you think? ”
“Damn it! Don't say that! A little while ago, the dead were calling me. Right there. If I die, I'll go quietly, like a dick.... ”
The frown is not normal. My comrades are dying, and I've fallen apart. Rough strains outside the door. A step-by-step door that opens with a dead body in a threatened locker room. I'm losing my mind.
Especially if you've been hit with morphine. There's an empty morphine tube nearby.
He was holding a gun in one hand because he injured his other arm. The bandage is poorly wrapped and wet.
I have to use EXP. I'm saving it for this. Winter called up a list of skills and poured experience into First Aid. A smooth-filled bar chart. Grade 5 seemed sufficient. Skilled Intermediate skill level.
“Stay still. Bandages, I'll put them back on. ”
Bandages that are more tangled than tied. Blood clots, bandages and flesh attached. If you unravel it at random, the wound will become messy. The medicine cabinet had hydrogen peroxide in it. The lid was opened and poured into the affected area. Disinfectant. The wound turned white. A mixture of disinfectant water and blood spills out. Deeply.
He's got morphine, but he's not in any pain. Sarge groans low. It's a pity there's still a cure, otherwise it would have screamed horribly.
Morphine is called the Last Analgesic. It has many side effects and, above all, is highly addictive. There is a true story about a soldier who was beaten with morphine when he was young and did not forget the feeling of dying of old age.
“How did you get hurt? ”
“I was sitting in the Humvee Battery... The car was rolling.... ”
“I'm glad you're not dead. ”
It must have been a while since you were injured, but blood is leaking under your skin. The body moves on its own according to the correction of the technology. You don't move to your own doctor, but your senses convey in an orderly fashion, a strange feeling. This was how the viewers' experience of sensory synchronization would look like.
Unlike regular bandages, pressure bandages have rubber-like elasticity. Draw and wind to stop hemostasis.
However, it is not good to wrap it up as hard as it is. It was an accident in Korea, but the doctor wrapped the bandages too hard. The soldier has no blood flow, and his toes are completely numb. I had to amputate it. It is also why winter has invested in First Aid to a skilled level.
Ashford asked.
“But who are you? There's no rank certificate, and it's suspicious... ”
"Do you understand when I say Cole Sine Banana? ”
“Ah, you're the monkey of the commander. ”
I don't mind winter because it's not sane. It didn't take long to tie the bandages.
What do we do now? Moderately able to communicate, but it is unlikely to expect long distance magnetism. Of course fighting is forbidden. Among the side effects of morphine were visual abnormalities and impaired judgment. If I held my gun up, I would have caught a tough guy.
“Are there any other survivors? ”
“Do I know you? ”
Sarge was annoyed. Winter swept through visible medicines and first aid supplies and tied a pair of crutches to the side of the duffle bag. Then I pulled the sergeant up.
“Just get up. We can't stay in a room with no doors closed. ”
“It's annoying...... I think I'm going to throw up. ”
But it still twists and twists. Winter moved him to a perfectly healthy room. After checking for any other hazards, you took all the morphine tubes from the sergeant's portable ambulance bag.
“Wait here. I'll take the rest of the morphine. ”
“Huh? … Hey, no. Go away.”
The struggle to grab the boy and the morphine at the same time returned to nothingness.
“I can't come with you right now. Do you remember Sergeant Cohen? ”
“Cohen? Of course I do. ”
“I was on my way to save him. ”
“Is he still alive? ”
The sergeant wept. Despite his strong pain and medication, he seems to have remained mentally pleased with his colleague's survival. Winter nods.
“It's time to communicate. Hang tight, I'll connect you. ”
Winter calling Sergeant Cohen. I waited so long, the answer came right back.
[Hey, kid! Where are we? Almost there?]
“Calm down. It's still a health center. ”
[Ah... I see.]
Even if I didn't look at him, I could tell by the look on his face. There will be a different amount of time to wait alone. Winter turned to talk.
“I have better news for you. ”
[Good news?]
“Yes, Sergeant Ashford is alive here. ”
[Oh, my God! Thank you! That son of a bitch is alive!]
“… you're listening to me right now. ”
[Huff.]
Sergeant Ashford grimaces and extends his hand. It means change the radio. He poured out his insults first. Of course I'm not really angry. to share the joy of being alive. It was true that I was happy because of my weak voice.
“I can't believe this weekend warrior trashed Sergeant Sky. You want to die?"
Weekend warriors are nicknames of the National Guard members who only serve a certain period of time throughout the year. Even the same National Guard is different from regular soldiers because executives and key personnel work throughout the year.
Watching the sparkling conversation, winter knocked on the clock.
“I'm sorry, but I hope your communication is brief. ”
“Time's up. Looks like Cinderella. ”
After restoring his composure, the sergeant throws a light joke. Winter gave him two shotguns of 30 rounds.
“You know why I took morphine? ”
“That's it, so go now. I'm ashamed of what I've been raining so far. Promise me you'll come back is enough. And……. ”
The sergeant turns his gaze in a strict direction and scratches inside the helmet.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome. ”
Winter said goodbye to him and left the room. Immediately the door closes.