My Sniper System in a Zombie Apocalypse World-Chapter 69: Those Not Chosen

As the group moved through the streets, Elaine slowed her steps, a troubled expression on her face. After a moment, she finally spoke.

"Jaxon... I’m sorry about Ryan. I didn’t know he was that kind of person. He never acted like that before, when we were with him."

"He was always like that," Na-rin said calmly. "You just did not notice it, Miss Elaine."

Hae-in glanced at Jaxon, her voice uneasy. "I’m sorry, Jaxon. Are you mad at me?"

Jaxon sighed, shaking his head gently. "It’s not your fault. He made his choice. I don’t blame him either. We’re all just trying to survive, in the end."

"But he..." Hae-in started, but Jaxon cut her off, a small smile on his face.

"I’m actually a little surprised none of you went with him. Do you really trust me more than those choppers?"

"Of course!" Hae-in replied instantly. "Even if they really came to rescue people, I’d still choose to stay with you."

"What...?" Jaxon was taken aback, confused by her logic, but he didn’t dislike the feeling. He lowered his voice. "Thank you."

Jaxon turned his gaze toward the choppers overhead, his expression hardening. He didn’t know their purpose, but his priority remained the same: find his family. He would meet up with them first, then assess the situation. It was better to leave the larger strategic decisions to Natasha.

As the distant roars and howls of the Infected began to echo across the city, the group quickened their pace, a sense of urgency settling over them once more.

....

Seven choppers clawed at the sky above the ruined city, their rotors a frantic pulse against the oppressive silence.

"Good luck out there," crackled the voice over the comms, laced with grim resignation. "This city’s swallowed more choppers than I can count. Few make it back."

"Command, this is Hawk One. Visual on target building. Confirmed rescue subjects inside," the lead pilot reported, voice clipped and focused.

"Copy that, Hawk One. Prepare for descent. Maintain formation."

"Sir, the Infected... they’re swarming below us," another voice interjected, laced with urgency.

"Gun them down. Clear the landing zone immediately," the commander ordered without hesitation.

"Roger that, engaging targets."

Suddenly, a monstrous roar ripped through the air, followed by the sickening crunch of concrete. A chunk of debris, the size of a small car, hurtled towards one of the choppers, slamming into its rotors.

"Mayday! Mayday! We’ve taken critical damage!" the pilot screamed, his voice dissolving into static as the chopper bucked violently. "Losing control, going down!"

The stricken aircraft spiraled out of control, before impacting into a building, exploding in a ball of fire.

"Down below, there’s a Variant, Sir!" a soldier yelled, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

On the rooftop near the target building, a hundred-meter skyscraper, the Variant stood tall. It was massive, easily ten feet tall, its muscles tight and bulging. Its eyes burned with a chilling intelligence as it hefted another slab of concrete.

This was the Variant, the same one that had almost tracked Jaxon down at the hotel, its senses still attuned to his scent. Behind it, thousands of bald Infected followed, letting out guttural roars at the sky.

"Kill it!" the order barked from the lead chopper.

The gatling gun roared to life, spitting a hail of bullets that tore through the Infected horde. Bodies shredded, limbs flew, but the Variant was too fast. It punched through the rooftop, making a huge hole, and jumped down inside to take cover. Then it hurled another chunk of concrete with terrifying force, sending it flying toward the choppers.

"Sir, the Variant is taking cover!"

"They’re getting smarter... Eliminate the threat!" the higher-up commanded, his voice tight with desperation. "All units, focus fire on the Variant! Priority target!"

"Unable to acquire target. Request permission to descend for visual," a pilot reported.

"Permission granted. Proceed with caution."

One of the six choppers descended, its gatling gun unleashing a torrent of fire into the building’s windows just below the rooftop where the Variant was last seen. The air crackled with tension, a desperate maneuver to draw out the creature.

Then, a deafening roar erupted, shaking the aircraft. A massive explosion tore through the side of the building.

Boom! A gaping hole appeared where the chopper had been firing.

Suddenly, a flood of Infected poured from the breach, a living wave of decaying flesh surging toward the descending chopper.

The minigun roared, a futile attempt to halt the onslaught. Bodies were shredded, limbs and black blood sprayed, but the sheer number was overwhelming. The pilot fought to gain altitude, but it was too late. The Infected clawed and swarmed, their hands latching onto the chopper’s skids, landing gear, anything they could grasp.

More and more clambered aboard, a grotesque, writhing mass dragging the aircraft down. One managed to breach the open doorway, its jaws snapping, and lunged at the gunner, tearing into his flesh.

It turned its attention to the pilot, its eyes burning with feral hunger as the chopper began to spin, plummeting towards the ground.

"Sir, we’re losing them! Requesting immediate orders!" a pilot shouted, his voice strained with urgency as another chopper went down.

"Negative! Disengage! High-Value Target extraction is paramount!" came the cold, detached order. "Hawks Two and Three, continue suppressing the Infected. Hawks Four, Five, and Six, proceed with HVT extraction."

The designated choppers ceased their fire and descended toward the rooftop, where a group of people frantically signaled for rescue. High-value targets: Politicians, senior officers, the leaders of society.

Dozens of them huddled together, a small group of soldiers desperately trying to hold back the encroaching horde. The choppers touched down, rotors churning the air into a frenzy.

The HVTs scrambled aboard, their faces etched with terror and relief. But the choppers were operating at maximum capacity. They were forced to leave the soldiers behind, the very men who had risked their lives to protect them.

Those left behind cried out, their pleas lost in the roar of the engines. They were abandoned, left to face the inevitable onslaught.

Then, the horde of Infected reached the building. The remaining soldiers fought with desperate courage, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. One of the choppers, struggling to gain altitude, was suddenly swarmed. Infected leaped onto the skids, their claws tearing at the metal. One managed to breach the cabin, its teeth sinking into the flesh of a HVT.

Screams echoed through the air as the chopper lost control, joining its fallen comrades in a fiery crash below.

.....

Meanwhile, on the emergency stairwell clinging to the side of the building, Ryan hauled himself upward, his lungs burning, his muscles screaming in protest. He clawed his way to the rooftop, driven by a desperate sliver of hope.

He burst onto the roof, blinking against the harsh sunlight, and saw them: four choppers in the sky. Confusion warred with elation. ’Why only four?’ But it didn’t matter. They were here. He was saved.

He stumbled towards the edge of the roof, waving his arms frantically, shouting with every ounce of strength he possessed. "Help! Over here! I’m here!"

The building where the HVTs had been rescued wasn’t far from him. He could see the choppers banking, turning. He kept shouting, jumping, praying they would see him.

From one of the choppers, a voice crackled over the comms. "Sir, there’s someone signaling for help on the rooftop below."

"Confirm, is he a designated rescue target?" came the cold, detached reply.

"Negative, Sir."

A small pause followed. Then, the order came. "Affirmative, disregard. We cannot risk further asset loss for a non-priority individual."

Ryan watched, his heart plummeting into his stomach, as the choppers turned away. His hope, so fiercely rekindled, died a swift and brutal death.

Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision. Regret washed over him, a bitter tide of what-ifs and should-haves. He had made so many wrong choices, and now, they had led him here, to this lonely rooftop, to die.

Suddenly, the door behind him splintered and shattered. A wave of Infected surged onto the roof, their rotting faces contorted in grotesque hunger.

Ryan screamed, a primal sound of pure terror, as the horde descended upon him. He cried out for mercy, for salvation, but there was no one to hear him. His flesh was torn apart, his bones crushed, as the Infected feasted on him.

Meanwhile, atop the skyscraper from which it had launched its devastating attacks, the Variant stood motionless. Its gaze followed the four remaining choppers as they receded into the distance.

And it wasn’t alone. Across the city, in other locations, similar Variants stood sentinel. Their eyes, cold and calculating, tracked the departing helicopters, a silent network of predators observing their prey.

.....

As Jaxon and the group ran through the streets, thunderous sounds chased close behind. Gatling gun fire ripped through the air, followed by furious howls and distant explosions that shook the ground beneath their feet.

Hae-in glanced back first. The others followed, lifting their heads.

High above the ruined skyline, four choppers were already pulling away, shrinking as they flew toward the horizon.

"They’re leaving," Hae-in said quietly.

"Regret not asking for their help?" Jaxon asked without slowing down.

"What? No, not at all," Hae-in replied quickly. Then her voice lowered. "I was just wondering... if he managed to get rescued."

No one answered. Their footsteps filled the silence.

Then Na-rin spoke, her voice calm but uneasy. "I’m more curious why there are only four now. And those explosions earlier..."

"Do you mean..." Bong-gu muttered, but he did not finish. The thought settled over them, heavy and unspoken.

Jaxon’s eyes narrowed as he ran. He recalled the creatures he had seen in this city, the ones that were smarter, stronger.

’It must be another variant,’ he thought grimly. ’Only creatures like that could cause such chaos.’

He pushed the thought aside and tightened his grip on his weapon. "Let’s keep moving."