NOVEL NEXT Chapter 3: Chapter 3 The Last Scream
The evacuation of residents, including the tavern owner, had been planned well in advance. Renault, however, wasn't included in their plans. The townsfolk considered him a paid thug, similar to the Griffin personnel hired by the mayor to maintain order.
Unlike the Griffins, though, Renault exuded a chilling aura whenever the townspeople, including the tavern owner, encountered him due to his ruthlessness in dealing with the infected.
The young and seemingly frivolous Griffin Commander, despite his first impression, was sufficient for the townsfolk's needs as long as he wore the G&K uniform and brought his T-Dolls.
His journey to the Griffin stronghold with the three figures would undoubtedly attract the infected. Any fight they initiate would inevitably draw most of the town's infected to them.
The Griffin stronghold, overrun by the ELID-infected, required battling them to access its equipment. The townspeople only needed a few minutes to escape with their prepped supplies.
The Griffin Commander and his Dolls served as the perfect, and inexpensive, bait. The mayor had already paid the reward upfront, but sadly, the unfortunate man was torn apart by his grandchild before Griffin's arrival.
Renault grimaced, the taste of vinegar lingering in his mouth. He popped another bite of the expired dry food, trying to mask the unpleasantness.
He found no water, but an abundance of wine. Unfortunately, the infected attack had displaced these wines from the cellar, causing them to spoil and taste strange.
After a less-than-enjoyable meal, Renault tidied the tavern, organizing helpful items for easy access. This would be his temporary residence, so some organization was necessary.
The owner's small and cramped bed in the inner room wouldn't suffice. A comfortable bed and warm haven were necessities. A decent dining table and functional kitchen were also desirable.
The tavern lacked these amenities. He needed to explore the town for a better base of operations. Additionally, he needed more food. While the expired rations weren't terrible, they were no better than Zerg biomass food.
As a normal human, he craved good food. Additionally, his clothes, retrieved from old stock, needed replacing. While not smelly, the layers were worn, offering little comfort.
His current equipment consisted of the logging ax found at the town's edge and a crowbar, aptly named the "holy sword of physics." The townspeople weren't keen on arming an outsider like him.
Armed with his sole weapon, Renault crossed the town's simple defense line and headed towards the center. Sporadic gunfire echoed across the town, indicating the Dolls likely engaged with the infected.
He didn't know if the Griffin Commander was alive. He only brought three Dolls, lacking the "Doll puppets." One could only consider him brave, perhaps even foolhardy.
It seemed the commander's survival wasn't guaranteed, but that mattered little to Renault. The man had a nice coat that could be acquired for free. All he had to do was claim it later.
Swinging his ax, Renault strode towards the deserted shopping street.
…
In stark contrast to Renault's cheerful state, the Griffin Commander found himself trapped amidst the infected.
"Damn it! Damn it! Why are all the rounds here rifle ammunition? Did the logistics guys have their brains flooded with water!?"
He had successfully breached the infected's blockade and reached the Griffin stronghold. However, the warehouse held only assault rifle bullets and various full-power rounds used by Rifle Dolls.
His three Dolls, however, were all pistol-wielders!
He cursed inwardly, lamenting the imprinting technology that specialized Dolls in single weapons. Why couldn't they be all-rounders?
The frustrated commander glanced at the three pistol Dolls battling the infected outside the stronghold entrance, emotions swirling within him.
Even his Dolls used different ammunition. The Nagant revolver needed 7.62mm R-type, the M1911 used .45ACP, and the P38 used 9mm. Three Dolls, three types of ammo! Why couldn't they use the same firearms? Why!?
The vast warehouse offered no solace; not even a single box of usable ammunition could be found.
"Commander! We're almost out of ammo!"
The sudden M1911 shot amidst the commander's anxiety felt like a sledgehammer to his head.
What to do? What to do!?
The town was overrun with infected, far exceeding their estimations. The Dolls' ammunition was depleted. If this continued, even he wouldn't survive the infected horde
.
"This is not what I was promised! It's completely different from the information I received! A small number of infected? This town is completely overrun!"
He then remembered something else, His eyes darted towards the tavern. Those people were still there! They must have a way to deal with the infected!
Desperate, the Griffin Commander called out,
"Retreat! Cover me... uhhhhh!"
His scream, piercing through the infected's roars, echoed through the town.