Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse

The armored roar of five JLTV Oshkosh vehicles echoed through the war-torn streets as they accelerated out of the MOA perimeter. Dust and debris were kicked up in their wake, the reinforced tires crushing over long-dead corpses and bullet-ridden pavement.

Inside the lead vehicle, Phillip gripped the roof handle with one hand, his other resting casually on the foregrip of his HK416. The vibrations of the heavy-duty military vehicle didn't faze him—he had been through worse.

Around him, his squad of eight Special Forces operators remained laser-focused, their helmets equipped with NVG mounts, comms headsets, and infrared beacons. Their weapons—HK416s, M110 sniper rifles, and FN SCAR-H battle rifles—were locked and loaded, each outfitted with ACOG optics, IR lasers, and suppressors.

"Radio check," Phillip called through his throat mic as he adjusted his tactical gloves.

A series of confirmations crackled through the comms.

"Bishop-2, loud and clear."

"Bishop-3, all green."

"Bishop-4, weapons hot."

"Bishop-5, good to go."

Phillip nodded, checking the mounted CROWS (Common Remotely Operated Weapon Station) on the JLTVs. The .50 caliber M2 Browning machine guns swiveled smoothly, tracking threats as they navigated the city.

Their objective? Intercept the white Ford Territory before it was overrun.

Phillip turned toward his driver who kept his eyes on the road.

"ETA?"

"Four minutes if we keep pushing," the driver replied, gripping the wheel tightly as he swerved past a burned-out APC. "But the roads are littered with obstacles. We might have to go off-road."

Phillip nodded. "We're not stopping. We reach that vehicle, or we die trying."

As the JLTVs tore through Manila, the remnants of the zombie horde still clashed against the MOA defense line.

Summoned soldiers held the barricades, unloading sustained bursts of 5.56mm and 7.62mm rounds into the approaching undead.

M2 Browning machine guns fired in controlled bursts, tearing through the massive bodies of the more mutated undead.

Overhead, AH-64 Apache attack helicopters swept through the air, their Hydra 70mm rockets obliterating clusters of zombies attempting to breach the outer walls.

Amidst the chaos, Marcus stood inside the command center, monitoring the extraction team's progress.

"Bishop Team is en route," the system officer reported. "They'll reach the vehicle in three minutes."

Marcus exhaled, watching the live feed from the MQ-8 Fire Scout.

The white Ford Territory was still speeding through the streets, its tires screeching as it narrowly avoided collapsed structures and burning wrecks.

The undead were relentless. Zombies sprinted behind it, some clawing at the windows, while others jumped onto the roof—desperate to get inside.

Erica and Thomas were fighting for their lives.

Marcus clenched his fists. Hold on. We're coming.

Two minutes later.

"Shit! They're everywhere!" Erica shouted as she jammed her bat into the face of a zombie clinging to her window.

Thomas gritted his teeth, both hands locked on the steering wheel as he swerved violently to throw off the infected clinging to the SUV.

The Ford Territory tore down an abandoned four-lane road, dodging burnt-out vehicles and overturned buses.

The undead weren't just chasing them—they were trying to tip the car over.

Two zombies clung to the passenger side, their rotting hands punching against the glass.

Another crawled onto the hood, its yellowed eyes locking onto Thomas as it smashed its head against the windshield.

CRACK!

The glass spiderwebbed, but didn't break.

Erica twisted in her seat, and shoved the bat Erica twisted in her seat, shoving the bat through the cracked windshield and into the zombie's face.

WHACK!

The undead's skull caved in, its body sliding off the hood and rolling onto the pavement.

Thomas swerved hard to the right, barely missing a burned-out police cruiser. The SUV's tires screeched against the cracked asphalt as they barreled down an alley, weaving through debris and wreckage.

But the zombies weren't stopping.

More were pouring in from both ends of the alley.

"We're boxed in!" Erica shouted.

Thomas' eyes darted between his rearview mirror and the road ahead.

"Not yet."

He floored the gas.

The Ford Territory surged forward, smashing through a pile of abandoned bicycles, sending them flying.

Behind them, the undead vaulted over wrecked cars and crawled along the alley walls, their feral eyes locked onto their prey.

Two zombies leapt from the rooftops, crashing onto the roof of the SUV.

THUD!

The metal groaned under their weight as they began to pound their fists against it.

Erica whirled. "Shit! We got two on the roof!"

The vehicle tilted slightly as the undead shifted their weight, trying to unbalance them.

Thomas cursed. "They're trying to tip us!"

A third zombie lunged at the driver's side, slamming its rotting fist against the window. The glass spidered but didn't break.

"Hand me the bat," Thomas barked, keeping one hand on the wheel as the SUV jerked violently.

Erica barely had time to react before she tossed the bat into his waiting grip.

Thomas yanked his foot off the gas pedal for just a second—just enough for the sudden deceleration to throw the zombies forward.

WHACK!

Thomas jammed the bat upward, slamming it into the roof of the car, hearing a sickening crunch as it connected with one of the zombies clinging on top.

A muffled shriek followed as the undead tumbled off the side, its rotting body slamming into the pavement.

One down.

But the second zombie was still hanging on, its fingers clawing desperately at the edge of the shattered sunroof.

THUNK-THUNK-THUNK!

The second zombie continued hammering the shattered sunroof, its decayed face pressing against the glass, hollow eyes filled with unrelenting hunger.

"Get this thing off!" Erica shouted, gripping the dashboard as the Ford Territory swayed violently from side to side.

Thomas barely had time to respond before another THUD rocked the vehicle—another zombie had leapt onto the hood, smashing its rotting fists against the windshield.

The cracks deepened.

One more hit and the glass would give out.

"Shit!" Thomas gritted his teeth, knowing he had seconds before they were ripped apart.

He did the only thing he could—

He slammed the brakes.

The SUV skidded, tires screeching as the sudden deceleration flung both zombies forward.

The one on the sunroof lost its grip, tumbling over the windshield—

WHAM!

It crashed against the hood just in time for the second zombie—who had been pounding the windshield—to be crushed underneath its falling companion.

The weight and impact shattered the windshield completely, sending shards of glass flying into the car.

Thomas and Erica shielded their faces as a flailing, snarling corpse rolled into the cabin.

"FUCK!" Erica screamed.

The zombie thrashed wildly in the cramped space, its jaws snapping inches from Thomas' arm as it lunged forward.

"Kick it out!" Thomas shouted, trying to keep control of the car.

Erica didn't hesitate.

She planted both feet against the zombie's chest and kicked with everything she had.

The undead lurched backward, its body half-dangling out of the gaping hole in the windshield.

Thomas seized the moment.

He swerved left—

Slammed the brakes again—

And sent the zombie rolling onto the pavement.

"Okay, it's clear," Thomas said, panting.

"Uhm…what is that in front of us? Are those moving vehicles?"

When Thomas looked to where Erica was looking at, his eyes widened in familiarization.