The Industrialist

Chapter 49: Survive

"Nuclear World War is the Earthly cleanse. Cleanse from its impurities. If we don’t repent and serve the Cause of Science, we will be punished. Convert. Or else face another Earthly cleanse.

-High Priestess of Science

***

Damian and Handsome were silent. Handsome checked on his rifle, dislodged his magazine, and checked the ammo inside. Damian did the same.

The stairs from the lower levels were across them to where they were situated, and the two ex-soldiers positioned themselves for an ambush. Futile it may seem but they were trained to fight to their last breath.

They were focused on surviving even if hope was impossible. The stories about the deployed soldiers were stationed outside the camps for weeks, hunting Abominant hives with only MREs as their food source.

Supply cargo ships would only be sent to the deployed soldiers to resupply them once or twice a week with food, ammo, and armaments. Thus, pushing each soldier with excellent survival instincts.

The soldiers were faced with two problems, one was facing the relentless Abominants and the location of the hives, and the other was surviving with limited food and water.

"Lance, don’t move!" Handsome said, crouched to a favorable angle, his weapon aiming at the entry. Damian was across him with the same form as Handsome’s.

Lance hugged his knapsack; his breathing was laborious beneath the breathing chambers of his gas mask. He checked the inside and there were 3 poison bombs.

It was not enough.

He was hoping that their silence would mask their location, and their scents would not be detected by the groundlings. The sky was darker. It was beyond 1800 H. He did not bother to check his watch for he knew already that darkness was upon them.

His eyes trained inside the room, it was unclear because of the dusty atmosphere, but their masks served as a faint night vision.

There were two holes in the walls of the expanse of the room, opposite each other. They served as windows before they were bombed.

Lance dragged his butt towards the nearest hole. His feet barely could move a muscle. He was not sure if it was because of the crash or just his immense fear.

The two ex-soldiers did not utter a word, even their breathing was not noticeable. If without his night vision, he could not tell that he was with two other people in the room.

Lance checked on the outside through the window. It was quiet and not a single groundling hunting. The flames of the crash truck could be seen from the distance.

The traces of Molotov bombs painted a portion of the clearing, although fading. There were no signs of the two trucks.

Fortunately, they were safe. Unfortunately, there was no rescue for them.

’They probably consumed all poison bombs and have escaped using the Molotov bombs,’ Lance thought.

He looked at his two comrades, still aiming their weapons on the stairs.

’This is it. This is our end,’ Lance thought, feeling hopeless.

They could hear the groundlings sniffing around the ground floor, and cramming themselves on the stairs, as thumps of colliding bodies could be heard.

Then the creatures searched the second floor; the snarls, and the sniffing, were more apparent now.

Lance took out one poison bomb from his knapsack, coldly resting within his grasp.

The scramble of bodies against walls and ground now seemed to grow as they started to scuttle on the stairs to the third floor, competing with each other with their targeted prey.

The creatures emerged, inevitably.

"Fire!" Damian said.

Their rifles fired, illuminating the dark room with the combustion of gunpowder inside their rifle chambers, bullets decimating Abominant flesh, and splattered blackish blood of the creatures on the wall.

No creature could step 3 leaps inside the third floor without being killed.

The cries came before the groundlings were lifeless.

The ambush was perfect. No groundling can enter their space without being killed by their rifles. However, they had little ammo left and only three poison bombs.

After about ten dead bodies, the creatures retreated, and the two ex-militaries stopped firing as well.

"Kid, ready your poison bomb," Damian said.

Lance glanced again outside the window and found the two human figures had entered the village, leaving the large Abominant idle outside the fence. The way they moved, so nonchalant and devious.

’Humans exercising control of level 1 creatures?’ Lance thought.

’What are they?’ Lance thought.

Whatever they were, Lance knew that these were not real human beings, at least, with his brilliant deduction. The rumors were true, there were Abominated Human beings.

Lance threw the poison bomb toward the stairs, creating a bluish mist on the second floor. The snarling and growling were gone.