Code Zulu Alpha: Nerd in the Apocalypse!

Chapter 1126: DID YOU JUST MAKE NAPALM?!



Chapter 1126: DID YOU JUST MAKE NAPALM?!

On that note, the ones with the clear shot open fired and reduced their numbers from a distance while the rest of us who would come in via a helicopter strapped up. It'll only take a few minutes before we reach our destination and the ships we were waiting on were close enough.

But yeah, the Admiral was barking his orders from the Eisenhower which was still docked on the Marine Base—as he had a perfect view of everything—and Mitch's team arrived shortly and took care of the dead outside the airport and blocked off the other entrances with the spare vehicles they brought.

We did have the numbers but we wouldn't be idiots about it but it didn't take long before we landed on the roof of the Main Building of this airport.

Continue exploring at m-vl-em|p-yr

Our group landed first than the other Chinook we flew in with, but instead of rushing down according to our plan, I pulled out the case for the gift I received from Matthew which was a Delta 5 from Daniel Defense.

I barely used this gun because I was almost always at the front while Kaley and Jared were doing their designated long-shooting job, but this time, with these new unknowns on the prowl, I laid down on my stomach and went with using a bolt-action.

Without its suppressor—or should I say, just the barrel was already a whopping 24-inch, four inches longer than the barrel of the SCAR Jared got from Royo. Additionally, if we're talking about precision and taking the shooter out of the picture, a bolt-action would always prevail against a semi-auto.

And yeah, this gun of mine was actually a pair because at the time Matthew gave it to me, I revealed that I already had one, so I just gifted my gift to Kaley instead and used what I was used to.

No words were needed to be discussed as we both laid our rifles down and then went prone to pick off the ones at the middle of the runway, which was the place we were supposed to drop in as Oscar mentioned earlier.

Be it a hundred or a thousand deadheads, our group would be able to clear it but fifty or so unknowns could spell if we weren't careful with them.

And as we exhaled and squeezed the trigger at the same time, me taking the one on the furthest right while she on the furthest left, it only took a moment before we saw a puff of black and red before our targets were put to rest.

'That's the universal truth for you.'

Our goal for taking them down was to figure out if they'd die with a blow to the head and to observe what happens next, but I just felt a weird twist in my gut, as Kaley and I saw each of them look at their fallen comrades.

"What the fu—"

As all of this was happening, and even before we took down two of them, the groups outside of the airport were already piling bodies one after the other, but this awful feeling in our gut just made the two of us empty our mags to whichever we could and reload one more time and empty it as well before what was left of them turned in our direction and unhinged their jaw.

We were already bracing for a deafening scream of some sort but their "scream" didn't even reach our ears even though we could see from our scope that their wailing ripped off their cheeks as they forcefully enlarged their mouths to be a better speaker.

And with our second reload of our 10-round mag carrying 6.5 Creedmoor rounds, we managed to put all of them down—at least what was on the central runway—before our comms specifically told us to get back in the Chinook and fly away.

Because not only did we invade their territory, but we also killed their guild members, so each and every one of them—which were on either side of the airport—stopped being fish in a barrel as they turned around and headed for the Main Building with speed.

I actually thought the "command" to hunt us down would cease once we take care of these ones we just put down, but no, these fucks were running back with a grudge.

My only regret was to not fire as fast as I could've plus forgetting that we had survivors to liberate in this building, but it was only a matter of time before we got swarmed with hundreds upon hundreds of the undead.

"Alright, time to go—"

"AH, NO WE DON'T!"

"YEAH, WE JUST FUCKING GOT HERE, KID!"

It's just that we had several people here who were known to stand their ground, especially the ones carrying machine guns, but our pilots still booted up our only means of escape as these two fucks—Oscar and Harper—had already mounted their M240's with hundreds upon hundreds of ammo linked together.

Additionally, Bogdan seemed to have just finished lining up—forgive the comparison—what seemed to look like white, sticky, gel-like semen, from ten small-ish wine barrels to be chucked to where the bulk of the dead would be coming from.

But yeah, Oscar and Major Harper had already opened fire along with the other soldiers that came with us—my group included—towards the angry horde that was coming for the intruders on top of the Main Building, but Bogdan just let out this arson-y smile as he lit up the same small-ish wine barrels and threw it a great distance away.

A few people still weren't sure what Bogdan was planning but I just had a realization from the ingredients he was working on yesterday.

'If those machineguns only needed a little~ bit of accuracy, this firebomb fuel gel mixture needed a lot less…'

And yeah, seeing a great flame envelop each and everyone one of those undead fucks and spreading on each of them with the slightest touch confirmed my suspicion.

"DID YOU JUST MAKE NAPALM?!"

"YEAH! AND THROW THIS ONE OVER TO THAT SIDE!"

"I'LL THROW ONE TOO!"

"ME TOO! YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD ME YOU WERE MAKING NAPALM! GIMME!" Oscar exclaimed.

"COLONEL! MAN THE FUCKING MACHINE GUN!"

Quinn took his place, "I'LL HANDLE IT! GIMME— HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

Ignoring Quinn's murderous laugh while mowing down the undead burning or not, this type of incendiary weapon was banned for use against civilians but let's just say that all is fair in love and war.

And like a man's inherent impulse to dig holes when handed a shovel, we were also predisposed to gladly experience what it was like to watch things burn when the victims should be what they were called, victims.


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