The battlefield was chaos.
Gunfire, explosions, and the screeches of the undead filled the air as Thomas and his forces held the line against an endless wave of monsters. The ground was slick with blood and charred remains. The heat from burning corpses and destroyed vehicles created a hellish haze over the battlefield.
Thomas reloaded his HK416, slamming a fresh magazine into place. He didn't have time to check his kill count. The only thing that mattered was that the enemy kept coming.
"Phillip, we're moving!" Thomas shouted, motioning toward a section of the trenches where the line was at risk of collapsing.
They sprinted across the mud-soaked ground, ducking behind the remains of a flipped Stryker. Bullets zipped past them as friendly forces continued their suppression fire. Soldiers in the trenches were struggling—Mawbeasts had jumped in, tearing through them with brutal efficiency.