Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse

The instant the creature landed, a sharp chime rang inside Thomas's head.

[System Notification: Unknown Threat Detected]

[Analyzing…]

[Analysis Complete]

[You have encountered: Aberrant Titan]

Thomas barely had time to register the system's information before the Aberrant Titan lunged.

"MOVE!" Thomas bellowed.

The team scattered, breaking formation just as the Titan's massive clawed hand slammed into the ground where they had been standing. The force of the impact cracked the concrete, sending a shockwave through the refinery floor.

Phillip rolled to the side, raising his M4A1 and unleashing a burst of 5.56 rounds into the creature's chest.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The rounds hit—but they might as well have been pellets against steel.

"It's tanking everything!" Shadow 1 shouted, adjusting his aim and firing at the Titan's legs. The bullets barely slowed it down.

Thomas gritted his teeth. "Aim for the head!"

Shadow 2 took position, firing a well-placed round at the Titan's face. The bullet ripped through its cheek, but instead of falling, the Aberrant Titan roared, shaking the walls with its monstrous voice.

Then—it moved again.

Faster than any infected they had faced before.

The Titan rushed Shadow 3, swiping with its elongated claws. The operator tried to evade, but it was too fast.

The claw caught him mid-dodge—and ripped him apart.

"SHIT! SHADOW 3 DOWN!" Shadow 4 shouted.

His body hit the ground in two pieces, a bloody mess of torn flesh and shattered bone.

Thomas gritted his teeth but had no time to process the loss.

The Titan turned to its next target—Phillip.

Phillip barely had time to react before the creature lunged again.

"GET DOWN!" Thomas yelled.

He raised his MK18 and fired point-blank at its skull. Three headshots.

The Titan stumbled, its movements momentarily lagging, but not stopping.

Phillip, now on the ground, kicked away, trying to put distance between himself and the beast.

"We need the Apache!" Shadow 1 barked.

Thomas grabbed his radio, flipping to the gunship's frequency.

"Overlord, this is Eagle Actual! Requesting immediate fire mission! We have an Aberrant Titan inside the refinery! Danger close confirmed, but we need it DEAD!"

Marcus's response was instant. "Roger that, Eagle Actual. Standby."

Outside, the Apache adjusted its position, the whir of its rotor blades growing louder as it prepared to engage.

The Aberrant Titan had barely recovered when Thomas shouted.

"EVERYONE GET BACK!"

The team broke away, just as the Apache's M230 chaingun roared to life.

BRRRRTTTTT!

A barrage of 30mm rounds ripped into the Titan's body, tearing through muscle and sinew.

The Titan staggered, letting out an inhuman wail as the high-caliber rounds shredded its torso.

But it still wasn't dead.

Instead, it began regenerating, its wounds closing rapidly.

Phillip, still breathing hard, cursed. "It's healing!"

Thomas saw it too. The Aberrant Titan's flesh was reknitting itself, tendrils of muscle reconnecting before their eyes.

"It's regenerating…"

Thomas had one option left.

"Bring the hellfires!"

"Confirm danger close strike?"

"DO IT!"

"Roger. Hellfire inbound. Five seconds."

Thomas looked up—saw the Apache adjust—and knew what was coming.

"EVERYONE GET TO COVER!"

The Titan, sensing the attack, let out a final, deafening shriek and charged.

Too late.

From the sky—

A Hellfire missile screamed downward.

The impact was deafening. The explosion engulfed the Titan, turning it into a fireball of gore and flame.

[You have killed the Aberrant Titan!]

The refinery shook from the impact. Metal beams groaned, and smoke filled the air.

When the dust cleared, nothing remained of the Aberrant Titan except for burned remnants fused to the floor.

Phillip coughed. "Holy shit. That was too close."

Thomas exhaled, lowering his rifle. "Yeah. But it's dead."

Marcus's voice crackled in over comms. "Eagle Actual, Hellfire confirmed kill. No remaining threats detected."

Shadow 4 knelt beside Shadow 3's remains, silent for a moment.

Another loss. Another name to remember.

Thomas clenched his jaw as the dust settled. The Hellfire had done its job, but the mission wasn't over.

"Shadow Team, sound off," he said into comms.

"Shadow 1, green."

"Shadow 2, good."

"Shadow 4, all clear."

Phillip gave a quick thumbs-up. "We're intact, minus one."

Thomas's grip tightened around his MK18. Shadow 3 was gone, and that wasn't something they could undo. But right now, they had to finish the job.

"Alright," Thomas said. "We still have stragglers inside. We clear the refinery room by room. Once that's done, we check the gauges and confirm how much fuel is left. No point in securing a refinery if there's nothing worth taking."

Phillip nodded. "Got it. Let's move."

With their NVGs switched on, the team stacked up outside the next section of the refinery—a long corridor leading deeper into the facility.

Thomas took point, sweeping his rifle's laser sight across the darkened halls. The walls were stained with dried blood, and empty bullet casings littered the ground, likely from refinery workers who had tried and failed to defend themselves when the outbreak hit.

A low gurgling echoed from up ahead.

"Contact," whispered Shadow 1.

Thomas raised his fist, signaling caution.

The team moved silently, hugging the steel walls, until they reached the main storage control room. Inside, the remaining infected were gathered—about half a dozen twisted bodies, hunched over what remained of former workers.

One of them turned, its milky-white eyes locking onto Thomas.

No hesitation.

Thomas fired first. TSSK! TSSK! TSSK! Three rounds punched through the infected's skull, sending it crashing onto the console. The others reacted instantly, lurching forward.

Shadow 2 and 4 opened fire, their suppressed rounds cutting through the pack. One by one, the infected dropped, but not before one managed to reach Phillip, clawing at his vest.

"Son of a—!" Phillip struggled, shoving the creature back.

Thomas stepped in, pressing his barrel against its temple and pulling the trigger. One shot. Clean.

The last infected crumpled, its blood pooling beneath it.

"Clear," Shadow 1 confirmed.

Thomas scanned the room, heart still pounding. "That should be the last of them."

The refinery fell into silence once again, save for the hum of industrial machines still running on backup power.

"Alright," Thomas said, exhaling. "Let's see what we're working with."

Phillip moved toward the refinery control panel, wiping away dust and half-dried blood from the screens. The terminal's main interface flickered weakly, the power grid barely holding together.

SYSTEM DIAGNOSTICS RUNNING...

PRESSURE STABILITY: NOMINAL

STORAGE CAPACITY: 74% FULL

FUEL TYPE: MIXED CRUDE AND REFINED STOCK

RESERVE STATUS: COMPROMISED SECTOR 4

Phillip let out a low whistle. "We're sitting on about seventy-four percent capacity. That's more than we expected."

Thomas leaned in. "Break that down. What's usable?"

Phillip tapped through the options, narrowing the readout. "Looks like we've got a mix of diesel, aviation fuel, and refined gasoline in the main tanks. Some crude oil is still stored separately. If we can get a proper processing line running, we could even refine more."

"Is it stable?" Thomas asked.

Phillip frowned, switching screens. "Most of it, yeah. But Sector 4 is flagged as compromised."

Thomas narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with it?"

Phillip scrolled through the system logs. "Pressure issues. The pipeline running through that section probably took damage during the initial outbreak. Could be leaks, contamination, or structural failure."

Thomas exhaled. Not a deal-breaker, but something they'd have to fix. "Can we move the fuel without using that sector?"

Phillip nodded. "Yeah, we can reroute the flow through the remaining pipelines. Might take time, but it's doable."

Thomas turned to his team. "Then we're in business. We hold this place and get the pumps running. Overlord, you copy?"

Marcus's voice crackled over comms. "Copy, Eagle Actual. Sounds like we're in luck."

"We are," Thomas confirmed. "Tell command the refinery is secured. I am going to build a base around here. Overlord, I want you to find another oil refinery in the region. We need to secure multiple supply points if we want long-term sustainability."

Marcus responded quickly, his voice carrying the efficiency of a man already pulling up maps. "Understood, Eagle Actual. We'll start scanning for viable locations. Stand by."

Thomas turned back to his team. "Alright, we hold position here. Shadow Team, start a full perimeter sweep. No chances—every structure, every storage tank, every access tunnel. If something is still moving, I want it gone."

Shadow 1 and Shadow 2 immediately moved out, their suppressed rifles at the ready as they began a sector-by-sector clearance of the refinery. Phillip stayed behind at the terminal, continuing to analyze the fuel system's condition.

Phillip looked up from the terminal. "Good news and bad news."

Thomas exhaled. "Go."

"Good news: The pumps are operational. I can start fuel transfer into transport tankers at any time. We can also establish a permanent pipeline to ship fuel out of here if we set up infrastructure."

Thomas nodded. "And the bad news?"

Phillip grimaced. "Sector 4 is worse than I thought. There's contamination in the lower pipeline chambers—looks like some of the infected got into the system early on. Could be rotting biomass clogging the pipes, or worse, some kind of mutated organic buildup."

Thomas narrowed his eyes. "Meaning?"

Phillip scratched his chin. "If we start pumping without fixing it, we could get bad batches—contaminated fuel. Could wreck engines or, at worst, cause a chain reaction in the refinery itself."

Thomas let out a slow breath. "So we clean it out."

Phillip nodded. "Yeah, but that's not gonna be fun. We have to go down there."