funbook-pk Chapter 57 It's getting dark
Chapter 57 It's getting dark
The emergency lights in the tunnel hummed, casting flickering shadows on the damp walls.
David Miller watched Carl Jensen's figure disappear around the corner of the corridor.
The footsteps faded into the distance, leaving only the low, repetitive hum of the ventilation system.
He turned around.
Seventeen people were sitting on the tarpaulin; they were all team leaders who were still able to move around.
Everyone's face was covered in dust and sweat, and their bulletproof vests had bullet holes or shrapnel marks.
The air smelled of blood, bandages, and disinfectant.
"The saints have set off."
David said.
The sound traveled steadily inside the tunnel.
"The most difficult time is yet to come."
No one speaks.
Everyone was looking at him.
"For the Lord!"
David raised his voice,
"Undying in a hundred battles!"
A brief silence.
A young white man raised his hand and patted the dust off his combat uniform and helmet.
His movements were somewhat stiff, and his knuckles were white under his tactical gloves.
"Undying in a hundred battles".
He said.
The second voice.
A third voice rang out from all over the tunnel, scattered but gradually forming a continuous sound.
Some people were coughing, while others were just moving their lips.
"Undying in a hundred battles".
David nodded.
He bent down, grabbed a powerful flashlight from the equipment box at his feet, and turned it on.
The beam of light cut through the darkness.
"Okay, get the flashlight."
He says,
"The Lord is on our side!"
The crowd began to move.
Some people took flashlights out of the box, some checked the ammunition, and some stuffed the last bit of compressed biscuits into their mouths.
The movements were slow, but orderly.
David and Jones exchanged a glance.
The two didn't speak, but simply turned around and walked towards two opposite branches of the tunnel.
Footsteps echoed and lingered in the concrete passageway before finally being swallowed by the darkness.
The two of them were the only strength they had, like two bricks that could be moved wherever needed.
Everyone else, after Karl left, returned to being ordinary people.
……
Moonlight filtered through gaps in the clouds, illuminating the infrared-resistant coating on the armored vehicle's roof and giving it a matte sheen.
Prussian George sat with his back against the wheel, looking up at the sky.
The clouds are moving, and the moon appears and disappears intermittently.
Since the order came down that afternoon, all ground troops have withdrawn to this temporary defensive line two kilometers outside the town.
Tanks and armored vehicles were arranged in a circle, with machine guns mounted on sandbags.
The only drones still flying in the town now are drones.
Another twelve-person engineering team went in with geological scanning equipment, saying they were going to survey the underground structure.
"Aren't you going to call tonight?"
"Prussia said. His voice was soft, as if he were asking himself."
The rustling sound of plastic wrapping paper came from the side.
Squad leader Jose tore open a bag of potato chips and poured a handful into his mouth.
The screen of his phone was lit up, and he was browsing a music note app.
"Are you stupid?"
Jose spoke as he chewed.
"Isn't it better to drag it out as long as possible? You can make money without dying."
He swallowed a potato chip and swiped his finger across the screen.
The next video is an edited video of an elderly cat panting on a cabinet.
"Don't forget Hank."
Jose added.
Prussia did not respond.
He remembered how Hank was dragged back.
The bullet hole in his neck had stopped bleeding, and the edges of the wound had turned black.
Two people in white coats put the body into a black body bag, and the sound of the zipper being pulled up was jarring.
"We're just here to make money."
Jose put down his phone, unscrewed a bottle of water,
"Why risk your life?"
He took two gulps, and water dripped from the corners of his mouth onto his combat uniform.
"Look at Hank."
Jose wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"We brought him back, and now we've bought him, but we don't know what we're doing with him."
The alarm suddenly went off.
It wasn't a rapid beeping sound, but an electronic tone broadcast by the system.
"Attention all units. Drone reconnaissance indicates that approximately one hundred armed personnel are leaving from the south exit of Hegang Town. They are heading southeast. Repeat, approximately one hundred armed personnel are moving."
The broadcast stopped.
Jose crumpled the bag of potato chips into a ball and threw it into the trash bag at his feet.
He picked up the rifle leaning against the vehicle, checked the magazine, and then put it back.
Others did similar things.
Some people pulled back the bolt of their guns, while others simply looked up in the direction of the town.
No one got up. No one got on the bus.
Prussia replaced the magazines on his AR-15.
The magazine clicked into the gun with a soft "click".
"I have a bad feeling about this."
He said.
Jose has picked up his phone again and is looking at a tech news article about the latest version update of Noah AI.
"I hope they really have the ability."
Prussia added.
He leaned back against the wheel and looked up.
The moon was obscured by clouds.
It's getting dark.
……
Polpo Dingell moved the toothpick from the left corner of his mouth to the right.
The teeth gripped the wooden pole, producing a faint grinding sound.
He sat in a folding chair, holding a chamois cloth in his hand, wiping the Level 4 bulletproof plate on his chest.
The power strip is made in Germany, with a ceramic composite layer and a matte coating on the surface.
His surname, Dingle, was written on the edge with a marker.
The camp was built on an open area three kilometers east of Hegang Town.
The tents are arranged in a grid pattern, with the command tent and equipment storage area in the middle.
The generator hummed as the beam of the searchlight swept across the outer barbed wire fence.
Polpo held the cleaned power strip up to the light and examined it.
The surface is smooth and free of scratches.
He tucked the power strip back into the slot on his vest and fastened the Velcro.
"I wish I hadn't come."
He says,
"I thought they were just here to chase away the veterans."
His grandfather participated in the 1992 Los Angeles riots.
When I'm bored, I always vividly describe to him how to make veteran barbecue and veteran sauce.
After joining the army, Polpo went to the Middle East.
He fought in street battles in Mosul and patrolled in Kandahar.
He liked that feeling, that exhilarating sensation of the tracks licking the Gundam.
But this time is different.
Those rednecks were spot on.
And they seemed to know where the bullets would come from.
"Pete."
"Do you think they might actually be some kind of saints?"
He unconsciously asked his teammate next to him.
Pete Warren sat on the ammunition box next to him.
He's from Kentucky; his family owns a farm.
I was raised with the Gospel from a young age, although that changed after I beat up my fellow villagers.
"Pete?"
Polpo shouted again.
Pete did not answer.
Polpo frowned and looked up, then suddenly froze on the spot.
There's a hard thing behind my head.
"Hey."
The voice came from behind.
"Dinger sauce".
Stephen tilted his head.
Do you like it?
Stephen Taylor stood behind him.
He was wearing a dark fleece jacket and his face was covered in camouflage paint.
His right hand hung at his side, holding a Glock 19 equipped with a silencer.
boom.
The sound was muffled, like slamming a heavy door shut.
Polpo felt a heat at the back of his head, and then darkness engulfed everything.
Stephen put down his gun.
He looked around.
The camp was quiet.
The searchlight continued to rotate regularly, its beam sweeping across the towering figures on the ground.
Some collapsed at the tent entrance, some lay prone at the machine gun positions, and some huddled beside the armored vehicle.
All Gundams have one thing in common: they can kill in one hit.
Head or neck.