Dean's eyes remained locked on the monitors, watching the armed men moving through the trees outside his fortress. He had spent years preparing for the undead, but he knew that humans were the real threat.
Silently, he stood and walked to the weapons room in the underground bunker. His hands moved swiftly, selecting the right tools for the fight:
Barrett M82 sniper rifle with armor-piercing rounds.
HK416 assault rifle loaded with extended mags.
Two Glock 19 pistols holstered on his thighs.
A tactical combat knife strapped to his chest.
C4 explosives with a remote detonator.
A bandolier of grenades—both fragmentation and smoke.
As he strapped on his gear, Marcus stepped forward.
"I'm coming with you."
Dean shook his head. "No. Stay here and protect your family."
Marcus clenched his fists. "I can fight."
"This isn't a fight with zombies, Marcus. These guys are armed, tactical, and ruthless. You'd be a liability."
Marcus wanted to argue, but one look at Dean's cold, calculating eyes made him stop. He swallowed his pride and nodded.
"Watch the monitors," Dean ordered. "Stay in the bunker."
With that, Dean ascended the stairs, heading to the sniper's corner on the second-floor balcony.
Lying prone behind the sniper scope, Dean's finger hovered over a small remote detonator.
Outside, the group of men cautiously moved closer, their rifles raised. There were eight of them, led by the man in the leather jacket. They had no idea that Dean had already planted C4 explosives in key locations near the entrance.
Dean waited. His breathing slowed, his heartbeat steady. Patience. Let them come.
Finally, the leader signaled for his men to advance past the treeline. They stepped over a small cluster of dirt where Dean had buried the explosives.
Dean smirked.
"Game over."
He pressed the button.
Chaos Erupts
A thunderous explosion ripped through the forest's edge. Fire and debris engulfed three of the men, their bodies flung like ragdolls.
The remaining five scattered, taking cover behind rocks and fallen logs.
Dean swiftly aimed his Barrett M82 and fired.
BOOM! A sniper round punched through one man's skull, his head snapping back violently.
BOOM! Another round shattered the chest of a second target, sending him sprawling.
The leader and two remaining men panicked, returning fire toward the fortress. Bullets pinged off the reinforced walls uselessly.
Dean switched to his HK416, raining down precise bursts of gunfire.
A third enemy caught three rounds in the gut, collapsing in agony.
The fourth was blinded by a well-placed flashbang, staggering helplessly before Dean put a bullet through his temple.
The leader—now alone—dropped his rifle and raised his hands.
Dean didn't hesitate.
A single sniper round tore through the man's leg, making him collapse in pain.
The battlefield went silent.
Dean descended the stairs, reloading his rifle as he walked.
Marcus and his family watched on the CCTV monitors, their faces pale. They had seen Dean fight zombies before, but this… this was different.
Dean stepped over the bodies, making his way to the wounded leader who groaned in pain. Blood pooled around his leg.
"P-Please," the man coughed, reaching out weakly. "Mercy."
Dean pulled out his combat knife.
"No."
The blade sliced across the man's throat. Blood gushed as the leader choked on his last breath.
Dean stood, wiping the knife on the dead man's jacket before sheathing it. No survivors. No risks.
Back in the bunker, Marcus and his family stared at the monitors in stunned silence.
Marcus swallowed hard, whispering, "How… how did he become like this?"
Robert, Marcus's father, shook his head. "To survive this long… he had to become a monster."
Emily gripped her mother's hand, her eyes filled with fear and admiration.
Dean returned to the bunker, his face emotionless. He met their gazes briefly before setting his rifle down on a table.
"They were watching us," he said flatly. "There will be more."
Marcus nodded slowly, still processing what he had witnessed.
Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had fought to survive for so long that mercy no longer existed in his world.
He exhaled and lit a cigarette.
"This was just the beginning."