Chapter 220
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 220
Chapter Title: End of April (7)
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There was no alpaca herd on the usual path. Winter raised his fist.
"Halt."
Animals domesticated by humans from the start, with strong sedentary tendencies, wandered near the ruined ranch. Therefore, he had noted it as a kind of omen from the beginning. If the herd vanished, there would be a reason. Was it a wild predator? Fatal beasts were rare in the empty ruins of civilization.
Winter, following the tracks with his eyes, pushed through the bushes. He had plenty of ammo, so he had left the iron bar behind, but the anti-materiel rifle with the suppressor measured 1.55 meters, meaning there was no need to dismount from the saddle.
Between the two-toed hoof prints were traces of the plague on two feet, as expected.
"Shoe prints mixed in—could it be survivors being chased?"
A question from 'Alejandro,' distinguishable by accent alone. Winter shook his head.
"Look here. Too flat for combat boot tread. It takes a very long time to wear down like that, but the central plains front collapsed recently. Probably a few wearing shoes from before infection. Regular variants don't even know how to untie laces, and there's no reason to."
So, it was time to prepare for combat. The visible tracks suggested a small group. Whether that was all of them or just vanguard for a larger horde would only be known after checking.
At that moment, new information updated on the tactical PDA. It indicated that some highlighted targets were estimated to be pursuing survivors. Winter's eyes narrowed.
If survivors had made direct contact, they wouldn't have used the word "estimated." Nor was there another unit nearby skinning scalps.
'Did they start decoding their signals?'
The Trickster's jamming waves spanned multiple frequencies simultaneously. That meant it used numerous channels at once for any transmission. It was like shattering a single message into pieces and scattering them according to a set pattern—similar to human frequency hopping, and just as difficult to decipher.
But they had ample time for observation. With time and budget invested, few things were impossible. The functioning government's power sometimes exceeded even Winter's expectations.
In any case, none of the updated info pointed to immediately accessible targets. The operational area was so vast that the distances between them were excessive. It seemed fine to proceed as is from here.
"Any Trickster traces?"
"No. Still, there's a chance it's moving with them within radio range."
Even if not, it was better to handle it on the way. The company's base was close. With ample ammo, they couldn't threaten the unit unless it was an enormous group, but getting hit first would inevitably amplify the noise. It could trigger a domino effect of assaults. In the worst case, multiple groups might merge.
Winter led the maneuver team with [Tracking].
At some point, the blood trail stretched long. The footprints dwindled. Only traces of two-legged walkers remained. A cool breeze carried the stench. It was still clear only to Winter. No more need to follow tracks. [Combat Sense] gauged the approximate distance from wind speed and odor density.
"Smells rotten."
Morales wrinkled his nose. He was the quickest among the platoon members and sensitive as befits his rank.
"There."
In the direction Winter pointed, under the shade of the canopy, variants had gathered. Even knowing the direction, the platoon couldn't spot them right away. The distance was about 250 meters. With the dense foliage, it was like a game of hidden pictures. Morales let out a tense sigh.
"Huh, you see that? Why drag the prey all the way there?"
"It's daytime. Their way of preparing for airstrikes, probably."
"What the..."
A deeper sigh. He wasn't unaware of the plague's cunning.
In any apocalypse, the sky remained humanity's domain until the world ended. That was one reason the mobile plague favored abandoned cities and shadows.
Winter ordered the platoon to take low profiles. Regular variant eyesight wasn't particularly better than a human's. Even a ghoul wouldn't easily spot them.
The maneuver team wasn't yet proficient at lying prone or prone on horseback. It would probably remain difficult. But they could at least dismount and lie down. Horses don't lie down in dangerous places, but they obey commands from trusted riders. Anxious from the stench of breathing death, they still flopped sideways—a result of consistent training.
"Engage like this?"
The soldiers, taut as bowstrings, braced for combat. But Winter held them back.
"Wait. Can't see from here, but seems like other groups around."
"Yes?"
"Look. They're not touching the prey."
With his corrections, the sprawled alpacas were visible to the naked eye, but not to the platoon. Winter handed the detached sniper scope to puzzled Schultz. Peering through the 10x magnification, Schultz tilted his head.
"It's true. Could be waiting for something."
Meanwhile, Winter widened his field of view. Even with corrections, prolonged focus was needed to avoid missing details. Their patience with hunger suggested at least a ghoul or equivalent leading the group. He needed to locate it first.
'Found it... Won't be easy to quietly pick off the outer ones one by one.'
The enhanced variant was perched on a branch right under the canopy. Unlike the ones chasing the war correspondents, this ash-gray, festering monster was nimble enough to climb trees.
The ghoul jerked its head this way and that. It seemed to be scanning all directions. The maneuver team remaining undiscovered was fortunate. Or perhaps the host's eyes had never been good to begin with. Even enhanced variants couldn't overcome a poor foundation. The variance in intelligence among the same type was proof.
"Harper, Schultz. Watch the flanks."
Approaches from downwind could be hard for even Winter to notice.
Two hours passed. A rare lull in the wind rustled the grass tucked into their ballistic helmets for camouflage. Uncomfortable soldiers fidgeted, their napes burning under the afternoon sun.
"They're coming."
Bingo. Dry elation, feral grins on the platoon. Morales muttered.
"Worth the ambush. Thought it'd take longer, but they came right to us."
Finally, beneath the deep blue canopy, the Trickster appeared. In truth, Winter had been certain of a special variant from the prolonged wait alone. Ghoul- or grumbler-led groups had limits to how far they could space out. Only a Trickster could coordinate separate herds across radio reception range, even with over an hour's gap.
'Still pretty slow. Conserving heat?'
Prioritizing human hunts must have left nutrition lacking.
Monster changes over time weren't limited to combat power. Metabolic suppression was one example. Normals were either fully rigid or moving, but enhanced types controlled heat expenditure more freely. They could even remain conscious while stiffening their bodies.
Meanwhile, the radio was silent. Even without jamming intent, a transmission for coordination would have been expected at least once. Perhaps it had even acquired radio focus ability. If true, gamma grade was likely. As pondered before, grade increases didn't always mean combat boosts.
A valuable hunt.
"Lieutenant... no, Major. Request airstrike? Might be tricky up close."
Morales pointed to the comms gear.
"Tricky" referred to the evidently recently infected ones. Armored ones were one thing, but how had two in Centurion medium infantry suits gotten infected? Some gap somewhere? Looked hard to kill with rifle rounds.
"No. Too close. Exposure mid-move would be a hassle. Would like to verify air support works properly, but not the time. I'll handle the problematic targets."
To avoid friendly fire, they needed distance. Even undetected, the enemy might change course on a whim. A shifted position would render strikes useless.
The base was close too. Explosions far louder than gunfire might draw distant groups, so requesting strikes from farther out was wiser.
250 meters was plenty for standard engagement anyway. Winter prepared to snipe.
"That rock there's about 120 meters. Only shoot ones crossing that line."
Experienced soldiers could hit at that range. Morales, identifying the baseline, replied.
"Hua. Ready when you are."
Winter set his rifle aside and steadied his breathing. Plan was shoot what's needed, then swap weapons. Better to minimize special ammo expenditure.
At the end of his stable sight picture, the Trickster's head appeared. Crystal clear aim without the telephoto lens. The grassland beneath the long sight line rippled vividly in spring colors. From it, he read the wind.
Bang-!
A sharp crack echoed clearly even through the suppressor. The pale head exploded in an instant. Splut! The impact felt tangible just from watching. A death that belied its enhanced grade.
Before they could react, he fired follow-ups. Bang, bang! With each whiff of gunsmoke at his nose, each heavy recoil to his shoulder, each slight pushback of his body, another head shattered. The medium infantry variants had their faces erupt inside bulletproof glass. Thick goggles shattered into hundreds of pieces, and the torn innards of their protective gear oozed thick crimson. The two suits turned into heavy camo prison rags.
Kyaaack-!
The ghoul leaped from the tree. His predicted arc pierced its landing spot. Splurt! The monster vomited blood and flesh. Its grasping chest already lacked a heart. The torso tore front to back, bending at an impossible angle. The lodged round snapped ribs and burst from the spine, popping bloodshot eyeballs.
Boom! Bang! Belated rest for the infected GIs. Filthy helmets soared into the air. The APHE blast had obliterated skull and gear alike. The next target took it in the gut. Such power rendered body armor meaningless. Liquefied entrails poured from the gaping hole. The soldier still shouldering his rifle shattered along with his weapon.
A barrage closer to destruction than kills.
The monstrous firepower projection brought more rest than the ammo expended.
"Señor..."
Alejandro invoked God in melancholy Spanish. Monsters or not, they were ex-US.
Click! Magazine empty. Breech locked open. Ten semi-auto rounds in just 4.5 seconds. In that time, the variant group's vanguard closed 50 meters. They had bolted at the first shots. The plague's chorus surged. Winter instantly swapped weapons and dropped the booming tenor first. A full-body muscle mass, just shy of ghoul.
The stronger ones closed faster. So front-to-back order sufficed. By the time ~20 casings pinged, tallying some twenty deaths, Morales shouted.
"Fire!"
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat! The small, dull reports mimicked hail on a windshield. Hit rate high. The netted variant group melted in real time. Countless tripped over corpse-choked feet. Yet they blindly reached and charged, no thinkers among them, no adaptation.
The wave of death fully crumbled 30 meters before the ambush point.
"Good work, everyone. Clean up thoroughly and withdraw."
Winter rose and ordered confirmation kills.
"Morales, report to HQ. We got one."
"Got it."
The satellite comm terminal unfolded. Mid-transmission, the PDA updated.
As Winter moved to recover dog tags from the infected soldiers' corpses, he spotted a dead belly twitching. Staring down mounted, soldiers who had been sporadically firing paused and gathered one by one.
"Uh, this can't be... what I think it is?"
Schultz shuddered.
"Probably. Hold fire for now."
Soldiers grimaced at Winter tapping the camera. But scenes like this hadn't been captured up close before. If they had, everyone would have seen it by now.
The wriggling beneath the oozing hide finally tore through flesh, splitting wide. A distorted new life. Kek! Kek! Kyaaack! Spitting amniotic with wet coughs, it unleashed a shrill wail. The umbilical cord linking to the dead mother dragged across the dirt.
Before Winter could order fallback, the soldiers retreated on their own.
Schultz groaned.
"Major. Is this worth it? We already know they can reproduce."
"Need to know how quick they turn dangerous post-birth, right? No hard evidence, but Fort Roberts nearly fell once, suspected fetal variant cause. Seeing this prevents complacency after 'clear.'"
"Uh..."
Meanwhile, the unfocused newborn wriggled, gnawing its cord. Teeth already? Must develop fetal for infection spread. It crunched the tough, firm flesh with black tongue flicking nonstop. Infection spurs protruded prominently.
Then eyes opened. It smacked its lips a few times and locked onto the watching humans. Kya! Hunger's joyful recognition of people. Winter checked his watch. Less than a minute since emergence.
"Everyone, fall back further."
Atascadero in mind, no room for complacency. Unknown how old those were, but they had leaped several times their height.
The fresh monster's clumsy steps accelerated explosively. Excel shook its head uneasily. The instant the little monster finally sprang, Winter's single shot pierced its crown. Soft skull crunch. Brief gasp. Then silence.
The GI corpses lay scattered around the bite-marked alpacas. Dog tags recovered, Winter selected the next target. The sun still stretched long.
============================ Author's Note ============================
#Nightmare
Had a nightmare last night, but nothing remembered except sine, cosine, tangent.
What kind of dream was that...
#Q&A
Q. Carpis: @Comparing John Varon and Winter, who's stronger in combat? Anti-materiel rifle brought it to mind, so asking.
A. Winter is stronger now.
Q. OneChance: @Trickster doesn't seem to always emit radio, so how do you approximate location?
A. Uncertain if mentioned in-story, but to answer here... They exchange and compare detections from multiple points. Think of it like triangulation. Instinct, not calculation.
Q. Scan_Born: @You shot it.. Owl sweet and sour pork—pour it? Reminds me of that owl comic..
A. Decided to hate owls from now on.
Q. PleasePickUpSoap: @ (strategy) Actually, Alien's best reproduction is air-infection prototype. Going parasite suggests creating a child between David and Elizabeth, a bridge lifeform. Makes perfect sense. Evolution itself proven not always efficient. Reason not callable B-grade slasher cuz characters' actions central. (abridged)
A. Shortened unavoidably due long comment. Reading yours, I agree. Haha. Alien as their child. So heartwarming.
Q. Sincere: @5 people how sentry? Daily full no rest shifts—ex-soldiers know the horror ㅠ
A. In my service, infiltration incident hit, so GOP stuffed with rookies, FEBA halved.
Night guard extended to 1.5 hours, and that year record snowfall Gangwon added night snow removal shifts awhile. Double duties per night, felt like dying.