r18novel Chapter 220: Hold the Line
Chapter 220: Hold the Line
The night was not even over.
And another wave was already coming.
Inside Basa Air Base’s command center, nobody spoke.
They simply stared at the tactical display.
The northern drone feed remained projected on the massive screen.
Thousands.
Then tens of thousands.
Then more.
The thermal signatures stretched beyond the camera’s field of view.
The infected looked like an ocean.
A living ocean.
And it was moving south.
Toward them.
Toward humanity.
Ryan slowly put his coffee down.
"I don’t think we’re fighting a horde anymore."
Nobody disagreed.
One analyst quietly spoke.
"At this point...this qualifies as a migration event."
Another analyst shook his head.
"No."
His finger pointed toward the screen.
"They’re all moving in one direction."
Silence followed.
Because everyone understood the implication.
This wasn’t migration.
This wasn’t coincidence.
This wasn’t random.
Somebody was calling them.
Somebody was directing them.
Adrian already knew the answer.
Akira.
Somewhere out there.
Possibly inside Project Eden.
Possibly watching.
Possibly learning.
And tonight, he had thrown an entire country’s infected population against them.
The operations officer suddenly looked up.
"Sir!"
"What?"
The man pointed toward another drone feed.
"Breakthrough."
---
Northwest of San Fernando.
The defensive line had finally been penetrated.
Not entirely.
Not catastrophically.
But enough.
A group of several thousand infected had bypassed the destroyed roads and entered a rural district.
They were moving through open farmland.
No highways.
No bridges.
No bottlenecks.
Nothing.
The artillery had difficulty targeting them.
The aircraft had difficulty seeing them.
And they were moving fast.
Very fast.
Inside an M2 Bradley, Sergeant Paul Navarro looked through his thermal sight.
The display glowed white.
Thousands of heat signatures.
Moving through rice paddies.
Heading directly toward a civilian evacuation route.
He immediately grabbed the radio.
"Command, this is Spartan Three."
"Go ahead."
"We’ve got infected bypassing the northern interdiction zone."
"Numbers?"
Paul stared at the display.
Then cursed.
"Too many."
The answer came back immediately.
"Interdict."
The Bradley commander nodded.
"Copy."
He looked at his driver.
"Forward."
The vehicle surged ahead.
Its diesel engine roared.
Tracks tore through muddy ground.
Behind it, two more Bradleys followed.
An entire mechanized platoon.
Their mission.
Stop the breakthrough.
At all costs.
The lead Bradley’s turret rotated.
The thermal sight centered on the advancing infected.
The gunner took a breath.
Then fired.
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP.
The 25mm Bushmaster chain gun erupted.
High explosive rounds streaked into the horde.
The front ranks disappeared.
Bodies exploded.
Mud and blood flew through the air.
The vehicle continued advancing.
The cannon never stopped.
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP.
The horde began collapsing.
Then more infected appeared.
Then more.
And more.
The commander stared.
"Where are they all coming from?!"
Nobody answered.
Because the answer was obvious.
Everywhere.
---
Several kilometers above.
A pair of AH-64 Apaches arrived.
Captain Maria Velasquez looked down through her sensors.
The breakthrough force filled her display.
Thousands of infected moving across farmland.
No roads.
No choke points.
No obstacles.
If they reached populated zones, it would become a disaster.
She keyed her radio.
"Specter Six, commencing attack."
Her gunner answered.
"Hydras ready."
The Apache descended.
Altitude.
Five hundred feet.
Speed.
One hundred and thirty knots.
The horde filled the screen.
"Fire."
WHOOSH.
WHOOSH.
WHOOSH.
Hydra rockets screamed downward.
The rice fields erupted.
Fire.
Dirt.
Water.
Bodies.
Everything exploded upward.
Entire sections of the horde vanished.
The Apache rolled left.
The gunner switched weapons.
"Chain gun."
The turret rotated.
Then opened fire.
BRRRRRRT.
Thirty-millimeter rounds tore through the survivors.
The attack helicopter crossed directly over the battlefield.
The destruction was horrifying.
Bodies covered the paddies.
Some infected burned.
Others crawled.
Most didn’t move at all.
The Apache climbed.
Maria looked back.
Then frowned.
The horde still existed.
Not as large.
But still large.
She sighed.
"Again."
The Apache banked.
---
Far above Pampanga.
The AC-130’s sensors suddenly detected the same breakthrough.
The fire control officer immediately highlighted it.
"Target."
The pilot nodded.
The gunship entered another orbit.
The massive aircraft banked.
The weapons aligned.
The fire control officer smiled slightly.
"Let’s make this easier for the Army."
BOOM.
The 105mm howitzer fired.
The shell landed directly inside the rice field.
The explosion looked absurd.
A huge water column erupted.
Bodies flew everywhere.
Another round followed.
BOOM.
Then another.
BOOM.
The impacts walked across the formation.
The breakthrough force began disintegrating.
Then the 30mm cannon joined.
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP.
The stream of fire cut directly through the surviving infected.
The AC-130 continued orbiting.
Its guns never stopped.
The battlefield below became a furnace.
---
Near Outpost Echo.
Corporal Daniel Santos was still fighting.
He couldn’t remember how long it had been.
Hours.
Maybe.
The night had become one long firefight.
The machine gun still roared.
BRRRRRRT.
The ammunition boxes around him were nearly empty.
Spent brass covered the bunker floor.
The barrel had been changed four times.
The infected still came.
The dead formed literal walls.
Piles of corpses rose several meters high.
The battlefield no longer resembled farmland.
It resembled hell.
A nearby rifleman looked toward the north.
Then froze.
"...Guys?"
Nobody listened.
Everyone was busy shooting.
The soldier pointed.
"Guys!"
Daniel looked up.
Then his expression changed.
Far in the distance.
Lights.
Hundreds of lights.
Moving.
Fast.
At first he thought they were fires.
Then he realized.
Headlights.
Vehicles.
A lot of vehicles.
The radio immediately crackled.
"Ground reinforcement convoy approaching from Basa."
The defenders erupted into cheers.
Because finally—
The cavalry had arrived.
The convoy grew larger.
MRAPs.
JLTVs.
Strykers.
Fuel trucks.
Ammunition carriers.
Medical vehicles.
And behind them—
Tanks.
Lots of tanks.
The headlights stretched for nearly a kilometer.
An entire battalion.
Daniel blinked.
"Holy shit."
The convoy rolled directly into the battlefield.
Tank turrets traversed.
Machine guns rotated.
The lead Abrams commander keyed his radio.
"All vehicles."
"Weapons free."
The battalion opened fire.
The darkness exploded.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
Tank cannons thundered.
Machine guns roared.
Grenade launchers fired.
The incoming reinforcements slammed into the horde like a hammer.
Entire sections of the infected disappeared.
The defenders on the walls cheered.
Actually cheered.
Because after an entire night of fighting—
Seeing an entire armored battalion arrive felt like seeing salvation itself.
The lead Abrams climbed a hill of corpses and fired.
BOOM.
Canister rounds tore through hundreds of infected.
The battalion continued advancing.
And for the first time all night—
The horde actually slowed.
Not because it wanted to.
Not because it had a choice.
But because there was finally enough firepower in one place to stop it.
At least for now.
Far away.
Beyond the burning towns.
Beyond the shattered highways.
Beyond the destroyed bridges.
The recon drones still watched.
The thermal images still showed movement.
Millions of infected.
Still coming.
Still marching.
Still answering a call.
And somewhere in the darkness.
Somewhere far beyond Pampanga.
Someone was watching humanity’s response.
Someone was learning.
Someone was preparing.
Akira Tomoyasu smiled.
Or at least, that was what Adrian feared.