Chapter 6: Strength in Numbers?

John took a step forward. "What's the plan then?" he asked, eyes on the ROTC officer. "You said we'd hold this floor for now. But now we know we've got a clear place to go."

The ROTC officer stood still for a beat, his cadets waiting for his lead.

He finally nodded. "Agreed. The situation's changed. We've got a verified location, supplies, and a safe route."

The ROTC officer then gestured toward the hallway. "SJ Walk is an option, sure. But it's a longer route to Yuchengco. If we just cross the quadrangle, we'll get there much faster."

One of the cadets shifted uneasily. "The quadrangle's too exposed," he muttered.

The officer instructed his cadet to slowly check out outside and the officer later came back and reported that there were those things standing near the stairs on all 3 ends. He also mentioned that the end where the renovating chapel is at has the lowest of those things, only one of them. 

The officer fell silent, his brows furrowed in thought. 

"We'll split into two groups," he said. "One will take the quadrangle—fast and low, keeping to cover. The other will use the stairs near the chapel. It has the least of those things, but we still don't know how they react up close."

Migs frowned. "You're saying we should engage one?"

Before the officer could answer, Katherine stepped forward, arms folded tightly across her chest.

"Absolutely not," she said, voice sharp. "We're students, not a military squad. We don't know what those things are, or what happens when you provoke them. For all we know, noise or movement might attract more of them. You want to poke the bear just to see what it does?"

The room went quiet for a beat. A few heads nodded subtly, others glanced toward the officer for a response.

Jianna spoke up next, her voice calm but firm. "I agree with her. It's too risky. We've only seen one up close—and even that thing kept moving after we crushed its body. What if it screams? What if more come running? We can't afford to gamble on the unknown right now."

The officer's jaw tensed. "I understand the concern. But we're going in blind already. If we don't figure out how they move, how they react, what stops them—we could lose people anyway. This is a controlled risk."

Katherine's eyes narrowed. "Controlled? Nothing about this is controlled."

"But we don't have time to debate forever," the officer replied, not unkindly. "We need information. And right now, the only way to get it… is by facing one directly."

The officer gave a firm nod. "We need to know what we're dealing with. How they move, how they respond, and if they have any weaknesses."

John crossed his arms. "That's a big risk."

"Yes," the officer admitted. "But if we don't figure it out now, we'll be running blind the whole way." 

Katherine exhaled slowly, then spoke again—her voice more measured this time, but no less firm.

"Fine," she said. "If we're really going to engage one of them… then we do it smart. We don't rush in with makeshift sticks and hope it works out."

Everyone turned to look at her.

"We set up something first. A trap. Maybe a way to slow it down, pin it, even distract it. I'm not risking someone's life just to get a little field data."

Jianna gave a small nod beside her. "That makes sense. If we plan it right, we can control the situation better—and we won't need to get as close."

The officer studied Katherine for a moment, then gave a small nod of respect. "Alright. We'll work with that."

He turned to Richson and Migs. "You two are leaders. Help organize the groups. We need a balance of strength and strategy in both."

Katherine rubbed her temples. "I still think this is reckless, but fine. If we have to engage one, we do it smart. No unnecessary risks."

The officer gave her a reassuring nod. "We understand. That's why my cadets and I will take the lead, we'll use the traps and will be the vanguard. If anything goes wrong, we'll handle it first."

Migs scanned the area and then pointed toward a pile of discarded materials near the hallway corner. "There," he said. "The construction workers left some materials behind, and some of the old chairs are broken. We might find something useful."

Richson was already moving, leading a few others toward the pile. He grabbed a wooden chair leg, testing its weight before nodding. "This'll work."

John picked up a long metal rod from a broken table. "Not perfect, but it'll do the job."

Jianna found an old broken PVC pipe, gripping it tightly. It wasn't as solid as metal, but it was lightweight and easy to swing. She looked around and handed Arthur a similar pipe. 

Migs rummaged through the pile and pulled out a long, sturdy piece of plywood. 

Myreign picked up a rusted hammer, likely left behind by a construction worker. She gave it a few test swings and smirked.

Katherine inspected the scraps with a frown before settling on a meter-long aluminum pipe.

The ROTC officers observed the group arming themselves and quickly followed suit. They rummaged through the scattered debris, picking out broken PVC pipes similar to the ones Jianna and Arthur had found.

As they worked, one of the younger officers leaned in closer to his fellow cadet, keeping his voice low but tense.

"Do we really have to do this?" he asked, gripping a splintered pipe in both hands. "Like… actually kill something?"

Another cadet—slightly older, usually the confident one—hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the twitching creature in the distance. "We're not trained for this," he muttered. "Crowd control, disaster drills, first aid—sure. But this?" He shook his head. "I haven't even killed a chicken, man. Much less… that."

A third officer tightened the strap on his makeshift bayonet, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "Yeah… I signed up to serve. To help. Not to put something down like this."

The senior officer—still trying to keep it together—stood nearby, silent for a moment as he heard them speak.

Then he exhaled slowly. "We didn't train for it… but that doesn't mean we don't act. Look around." He gestured subtly toward the students arming themselves—Myreign with the rusted hammer, Katherine gripping her aluminum pipe like it weighed more than it did, Jianna steadying her breath with quiet determination. "They're scared. And they're still stepping up."

His voice dropped lower. "We don't have to like it. But if we freeze… we'll lose more than just our nerves."

Then, slowly, they stood.

And one by one… they nodded.

One of the officers tested the weight of a long, jagged piece before nodding to the others. "These could work as makeshift bayonets."

The officers worked quickly, securing the PVC pipes to the sides of their wooden rifles with layers of duct tape. The cadets tightened the bindings, making sure the makeshift bayonets wouldn't come loose in a fight.

One of them gave his weapon an experimental jab. "Not perfect, but it'll hold."

Another officer adjusted his grip and nodded. "It's better than nothing. At least we have something to stab with."

"Do we really need to kill them?" said a cadet, his eyes locked on the jagged tip of his makeshift bayonet. He wasn't panicking, but there was something hollow in his voice, like the words had been sitting on his chest for too long.

The group paused.

Another officer glanced over. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… it still looked human. What if it's not dead? What if it's just sick?"

"I haven't even killed a chicken before," another cadet muttered, looking away. "And now we're supposed to stab one of our own classmates? Even if they're… like that?"

Silence settled over the group, heavy and uncomfortable.

Their commanding office tightened the last strip of duct tape on his rifle before speaking. "You think I signed up for this?" he said quietly. "I joined ROTC to serve the school, maybe train for rescue, not—this."

He looked up, scanning the faces of his fellow officers. "But this isn't about what we signed up for. It's about what we're in. And right now, people are counting on us. We don't have all the answers… but we've seen what those things do when they get close."

The officer took a deep breath, scanning the group. "Alright. Both teams will move toward the chapel stairs. We take out that thing first, fast and coordinated. We need to see how tough they are. Oh and remember to switch to silent mode on your phones. Richson make sure to position your group at the back"

But before anyone could move, Katherine raised her voice again.

"We still need the trap," she said. "A distraction at least. Something to help split its focus when it comes close."

Jianna nodded beside her, already stepping toward the pile of discarded construction scraps. "We can rig something fast. A tripwire, maybe something loud that drops and throws it off."

John stepped forward, his brows furrowed in thought. "Wait—if we're setting a trap, then let's make sure it actually slows it down."

Everyone turned to him.

"I noticed something earlier," he said, gesturing with his hand to mimic the creature's slow, dragging walk. "That thing we saw—it wasn't lifting its legs much. It was kind of… shuffling. Like it barely knew how to walk."

He pointed to two nearby chairs.

"If we tie a wire or cord low—just a few inches off the ground—it won't see it. And if it's really dragging its legs the way I think it is, it'll trip straight over."

Jianna's eyes lit up. "That could work."

Katherine nodded slowly, considering. "Alright. Let's use that. Combine it with something loud—when it falls, it needs to be disoriented."

"I've got cords here," Migs called out, already crouched and unraveling a thick wire from a busted power strip.

Arthur moved to help him, dragging the two chairs into place and bracing them with weights from the pile of construction materials. Together, they began tying the cord between the legs, securing it tightly at shin-height.

"Make sure it doesn't snap too early," Myreign said, squatting beside them and tightening a knot. "We need it to hit the floor before it has time to react."

"Done," John said a moment later, pulling the wire taut with a quiet satisfaction. "Now if it's anything like what I saw… it's going down hard."

The officer, watching from a few steps away, gave a nod of approval. "Good thinking. That gives us our opening."

Richson then adjusted his grip on the wooden chair leg, and nodded. "No room for mistakes."

The officer turned to the group, his voice calm but resolute. "Alright. Let's move out."

Silence fell as everyone fell into position—bags zipped tight, weapons gripped hard.