"Fuck, we need more grenades!" A soldier barked into the walkie-talkie, his voice strained with urgency as he called logistics at central command.
Aston and Tristan, picking up on the desperation, immediately responded.
"Where should we send them?" Tristan asked, his tone sharp and focused.
"The western wall!" the soldier shouted over the chaos.
"Hell, another wave of zombies is surging from here! That damn evolved zombie is furious—it's trying to drown us in sheer numbers! Get those supplies here fast! We're running low on ammo for the Gatling guns and the rest of our firearms!"
He paused for a brief second before adding, "Do you have any RPG? We might seriously need one out here!"
Tristan and Aston exchanged a tense glance before Aston grabbed the walkie-talkie. "We'll send what we can—hold on! We'll get it to you as fast as possible!" he assured, his voice steady despite the chaos and loud noises.