Episode 88: 20-minutes of Zombie fighting is a lot.

When it rains, it pours—this saying couldn't have been more accurate for our raid on CLUB MED. The moment we began our assault, the truth of this place being a zombie nest became overwhelmingly clear. From the instant we opened fire, the undead swarmed out of the entrance in an unrelenting wave, their rotten forms pouring out endlessly like a dam had burst.

I gritted my teeth as I gripped the handles of the .50-caliber machine gun, the barrel glowing hot from constant firing. The recoil rattled through my arms as I mowed down the creatures with unrelenting force. Three times—I had to reload three full belts of ammunition, and still, the zombies kept coming.

"Damn it, how many are in there?" Scarlett shouted, slamming a fresh magazine into her rifle.

"Too many!" Selene responded, firing off a precise shot that took down a crawler attempting to slip past our defenses. "This is insane!"

For twenty grueling minutes, the battle raged on. It felt like hours. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of gunpowder. The chorus of gunfire echoed through the deserted city streets, drowning out the wails of the undead. Despite the overwhelming numbers, none of us left our cover—not once.

Alfred and Layla played their roles perfectly, acting as our mobile distractions. Any zombies that managed to push past our kill zone were swiftly lured away by their movements. Their computerized precision allowed them to execute maneuvers that no human could. With near-perfect accuracy, they dispatched any stragglers that wandered too close.

The battle formation had naturally fallen into place: I was the cannon, raining down relentless fire with the .50-caliber, tearing through flesh and bone with each burst. Selene, Scarlett, and Natasha focused on precision, taking controlled shots to conserve ammo while ensuring maximum efficiency. Then there was Alfred and Layla—the last line of defense. Anything that slipped past us was met with their mechanical efficiency—each of their shots aimed solely at the head. One shot, one kill.

I took a brief moment to glance at Natasha, who was firing her rifle with practiced ease. "You good over there?"

She nodded, exhaling sharply as she dropped another zombie. "Still breathing. How's your ammo?"

"Running low," I admitted. "But I've got one more belt left. We need to wrap this up soon."

Scarlett cursed under her breath, ejecting an empty mag. "Twenty minutes straight, and they're still coming. This place really is a damn nest."

"Keep at it!" Selene encouraged, squeezing off another shot. "We're making progress."

And she was right. The flood of zombies had started to slow. The once-endless horde had begun to dwindle, the sheer number of bodies piling up creating barricades of the dead. Our kill box had turned into a graveyard, and finally—after what felt like an eternity—the last zombie staggered into view. It barely made it three steps out of the entrance before Alfred put a bullet cleanly through its skull.

Silence.

I exhaled, my arms aching from the sheer intensity of manning the machine gun. Around us, the ground was littered with spent bullet casings, forming small golden hills beneath our feet. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and death.

"Fuh~ that is a hard work!" I said as I let my arms fall to my side.

Natasha lowered her rifle. "Is… is it over?"

Selene peered toward the hospital entrance; her eyes sharp. "Seems like it."

Scarlett smirked, stretching her sore muscles. "Well, if nothing else, at least we made one hell of a mess."

I let out a breath and grinned. "Yeah. We sure did….is everyone ok?"

Natasha shouted as she looked at the nodded Scarlett and Selene, "We're all good!"

When the last zombie fell and the entrance of the hospital remained eerily silent, I raised my fist, signaling the team to halt fire. The battlefield, once filled with chaos, was now quiet, except for the distant crackling of spent bullet casings cooling on the pavement.

Everyone remained on high alert, weapons at the ready, scanning for any lingering threats.

"Layla, Alfred, check the entrance, don't want to get caught off-guard, better safe than sorry" I commanded.

"Yes, sir," they responded in unison before moving forward, their precise, mechanical efficiency making them the perfect scouts for the task.

Natasha exhaled sharply, swapping out an empty magazine for a fresh one in her AR-15. "That was intense... and long," she muttered, rolling her shoulders.

Selene gave a gentle smile, nodding in agreement. "It's rare we get to fight without worrying about running out of bullets."

Scarlett, ever the vigilant one, kept her rifle raised, eyes scanning the perimeter. "We made a lot of noise. Someone might've noticed. I'll check the area."

I nodded, appreciating her caution. "Good call. Take Selene with you."

Scarlett arched a brow but didn't argue. She was perfectly capable on her own, but I stuck by the buddy system—two was always better than one in this world. With a smirk, she motioned for Selene to follow her, and the two disappeared into the ruined landscape. This world I dangerous so I would never want to take any risky chances, after all life always know how to throw a curveball at you.

That left me and Natasha waiting. A minute later, Layla returned—alone.

I frowned. "Where's Alfred?"

"He decided to clear the building on his own," she replied smoothly.

"He's sweeping the ground, first, second, and third floors."

Natasha let out a low whistle. "Of course he did."

Layla continued, "The basement is inaccessible. The elevator isn't working, and the stairway is blocked with debris. So, the only accessible areas are the ground floor, first, second, and third. There are still zombie stragglers inside."

I sighed in relief, feeling some of the tension drain from my shoulders. If anyone could handle a solo sweep, it was Alfred. He was methodical, precise, and relentless. If he was taking his time to clear the hospital, we could rest easy knowing that when he gave the all-clear, it truly meant the place was secure.

"Alright," I said, finally climbing down from my position at the mounted .50-cal. "Let's finish up here."

Natasha and Layla followed as we moved across the battlefield, careful to step over the countless spent shell casings scattered around us. Now that the immediate threat was gone, it was time to handle the second-most important part of the mission—securing our rewards.

"Double tap the bodies," I instructed. "Make sure none of them are playing dead."

Natasha smirked, raising her rifle. "With pleasure."

Layla gave a nod, unholstering her handgun. The three of us began sweeping the field, putting down any remaining threats and securing anything valuable from the fallen. Ammunition, weapons, supplies—whatever could be salvaged would be put to use.

For the first time since arriving, the tension started to ease. This mission, despite its chaos, had gone as smoothly as we could've hoped. With Scarlett and Selene watching our backs and Alfred sweeping the interior, we were in good hands.

I let out a breath and grinned. "Alright, let's see what goodies we've earned today."