Alright, the time to move is nearly here. Let me just finish dumping the little bit I got left in my drum and then I'm falling back.
Nearly done with his 100-round magazine, John continued firing, and just as his weapon ran dry; the Tank jabbed its meaty mitts for hands into the subway-tiled floor and exerted its incredibly powerful strength upon the solid concrete underneath. It then easily ripped up a huge, several hundred pound chunk of concrete with bits and pieces of rebar jutting from it, picked it up with both arms overhead, and prepared to throw the large solid object… Specifically at the one who had royally pissed it off.
Oh, shit, it's time to run!
Well aware of how much damage that solid piece of concrete and metal can do to the weak flesh of a human body, John smartly turned and sprinted up the metal steps of the escalator. At the same time, he decided to book it, the pipe bomb he had thrown moments ago went off and released an explosive blast that took out dozens of zeds in an instant and reduced them to bloody debris that scattered in all directions. And moments following that explosion that boomed through the station, the big chunk of concrete the undead brute pried from the floor smashed into the middle escalator he had just cleared a second ago and sunk in a good portion of it.
That would've killed me for sure had it hit me... Thankfully, I got out of the way in time before I became meat paste.
Although glad to be alive, he wouldn't stay that way for much longer if he didn't keep moving, so he kept pulling back and ran up the stairs. When he cleared the stairs, he rounded the corner and booked it down the hall as the sounds of stampeding steps, loud thudding, and the roaring of the Tank and the rest of the horde thundered not that far behind him. A sizable amount of trepidation was beginning to take over his chest, but he suppressed this natural response and loaded a fresh 40mm high explosive into the M203's tube, and by the time he reached the end of the hall, he clicked in another drum.
This is going to be intense.
Expecting a fight unlike any he had ever experienced, John set up around the corner at the end of the hall with his optic aimed at head height, and seconds later a Charger appeared first. There was very little time to think if he was going to survive this encounter, so just as a couple of the other special infected came within view, he lined up his scope's reticle on the Charger's head and depressed the trigger.
Rounds spewed out the end of his KORD's suppressor and accurately nailed the face of the Charger and dispatched it then and there, luckily. But it made little difference because when that special infected collapsed dead upon the tiled floor, several others took its place and kept on beelining towards him. Time was of the essence, so John didn't give his actions a second thought and kept the trigger held whilst hastily transitioning from one target to the next and pouring all 100 full metal jackets he packed into his drum at head height and at a staggering fire rate of 900 rounds per minute.
"Hahahaha, GET YOU SOME!"
John roared manically as he emptied his rapidly dwindling high-capacity mag on the undead horde, and less than 7 seconds later, he was dry once again. Good thing for him his 7.62x39mm rounds were great at penetrating multiple bodies, so whilst the infected were busy climbing and stumbling over their deceased fellows, he promptly loaded a 60 rounder quad-stack magazine filled with APDS and took aim. However, as he was lining up his modern Russian AEK, the big boss himself came onto the scene and sent all those that stood in its way flying, or more often than not crushed and dismembered.
Oh, look who decided to finally show up.
With the primary threat to John's safety arriving on the scene, he forewent another continuous round of automatic fire and instead chose to switch to his Boom! option, which he had been saving just for this big fucker. Therefore, the moment he had an open shot on his head, he took it and lobbed a 40mm HE grenade straight at the target.
The grenade soared through the air and flew down the hallway with great speed, appearing as if it would strike the brute right in the forehead, but in that time, the Tank lifted up its massive oversized left arm and blocked the trajectory of the potentially lethal shot. So the next thing he knew the shell he fired met with the special infected's strong mutated flesh and exploded, sending out an incredibly deafening wave of explosive force that mutilated the Tank's beefy left arm and killed many of the zeds around it, including a few of the special variety.
I know I'm a bit nuts... Sometimes. But I could've sworn I saw that bastard grin before it blocked my shot.
Somewhat disturbed by what he believed he saw, John didn't have the privilege to give it much thought, at least not now, so he shoved it to the back of his mind and began popping zombie heads with the 60 rounds APDS he had loaded. The window of time he had gained with his GL allotted him enough time to empty his mag on the crowd of undead, but not enough to do anything else because the big fucker was on move again and closing the distance fast.
Time to fall back to the next position.
It wouldn't be long before the undead would be upon him once more, so he hurried to the space below the safe room and swiftly reloaded his grenade launcher. He then followed that up by doing the same for his rifle with another 60 rounder quad stack, though this time he loaded one filled with FMJ since the remaining high capacity mags he had on hand were all loaded with the stuff. And the moment he clicked the magazine into place, John continued his hedge-trimming fire on the zeds and filled the hall with a lethal hail of bullets that would claim at least one victim, if not two or more.
Our recently discharged vet kept sending hate down range, but as soon as the Tank and the last two special infected reached the claymores he had planted previously at the end of the hallway, he took the wireless detonator he grabbed preemptively and activated it. And before he could even blink, the two anti-infantry mines went off simultaneously and shredded the two Jockeys, which had been following their boss of sorts, and most importantly destroyed the comparatively weaker legs of the Tank.
"You're fucked now buddy!"
Seeing the two Jockeys practically annihilated and finding the Tank's legs shredded to an unusable state, it collapsed to the broken tiled floor and roared in pain angrily while John on the other hand took this fantastic opportunity to toss a bile bomb in a "relatively empty" portion of the hallway, one that wasn't completely covered in bodies. When it hit the tiled floor, the bomb released the Boomer bile within and attracted the full attention of every common infected within the area, sending them into a crazed frenzy unlike anything he had seen before.
That'll keep em busy for a few moments.
The Tank was still preoccupied with its lack of mobility, so as that was going on, John again unleashed his assault rifle on the dwindling crowds of undead.
He racked up one kill after the next with blazing efficiency and he would've kept this going but the collapsed undead brute began crawling towards him via the use of his monstrous arms. The rage in its eyes was as clear as day as well as its intent so not wanting to be ripped apart, our protagonist switched back to the Tank, reloaded a normal 30 rounder packed with APDS and unloaded on the infected's face whilst it was crawling towards him. Sadly for the Tank, it was unable to use its arms to block his attacks again, hence John's armor-piercing rounds sailed right through its forehead and blended what remained of its brain within.
Alright, that was the last of the special infected. Now I can focus on mopping up the rest of the common infected, and after that, I'm making my way north via the subway tunnels… Hopefully I can find some decent loot on the way there.
With the Tank finally dead as well as all the special infected he spotted originally, the rest of the infected were basically a cakewalk in comparison, so he spent the next however many minutes slaughtering them. When the job was done, he climbed back up and returned to the safe room, refreshed his low ammo and supplies with the super useful and ever convenient store, purchased another 100-round drum along with a pouch for it, and refilled his magazines. He was becoming increasingly proficient with constant mag packing, so it didn't take him all too many minutes to finish the task.
Okay, that's the last of em. Now I can proceed forward.
Leaving the safety of the safe house behind once again, John dropped off to the level below and circled around the Tank's corpse and advanced down the hallway with his drum-loaded KORD held at the ready. Although he was nearly sure he had dispatched every last zed a part of this swarm, he remained cautious of the ever-present dangers of this world. Hence, he took his time and proceeded slowly but surely down the hall of carnage, and then the stairs, and finally the escalators.
It seems I got them all…
Whatever John hit whenever he was going nuts lobbing grenades against the Tank and its horde of followers turned off all the lights completely, so he had been using his taclight, laser combo along with his new quad nod night vision goggles the whole way here. Due to those environmental changes, he had a somewhat difficult time seeing when compared to when he was using his eyes in a lit space, so he didn't immediately spot the Hunter led horde ascending the set of escalators past the turnstiles on his left. However, that changed when he shined the bright light attached to his gun on them.
On second glance, it appears I spoke too soon.
As soon as he laid eyes on the special infected and the group of zeds it was leading, he didn't give his actions a second thought and immediately put his canted red dot sight's glowing dot on its forehead and fired a shot, taking it out then and there. The crack from his KORD's bullet, exceeding the speed of sound, sent a loud crack echoing through the station and its depths, attracting all the new zombies in his direction. Unfortunately for them, John didn't give them an opportunity to move and immediately opened up with automatic 7.62 fire, ending a number of their miserable existences right on the spot.
The group of infected this time around wasn't nearly as large as the wave he dispatched previously, but there were at least 50 of them. John kept taking heads one after the next, and once he was beginning to run low on the ammo in his drum, he swapped to melee straightaway and ruthlessly dispatched the last of their group with butcher-like hacks from his machete.
Now that's the last of em… Time to move to the subway platform.
Finished annihilating yet another group of maddened infected, he was about to continue going deeper into the station when he spotted a MAC-10 and an UZI sitting on a table by one of the booths along with a bunch of mags and ammo for a variety of weapons some of which were no longer present.
Oh, sweet, finally some guns.
Pumped like a kid in a candy store, John raced over to the table, opened his pack and started loading all the available supplies left behind by the survivors into his pack. There wasn't absolute ton but there was enough to improve our protagonist's mood and fill him with glee, so the minute he was done loading the last of the meds and ammo, he zipped his pack back up, attached the MAC to the right side of his pack, and the UZI to the left side.
That'll do it.
Ready to set off once more, he turned to the right side of the lobby and eyed the booth over there and the collapsed routes that were completely blocked with rubble.
There's more, huh…
Unwilling to leave any supplies behind, he wandered over to the opposite side of the lobby and opened up the booth's door, and grabbed the 2 pipe bombs he spotted. His grenade sack was at capacity, so he put those extra throwables in his pack in their own dedicated space and then grabbed a USP45 and a couple bottles of pain pills he saw sitting on the shelves below the counter. After grabbing everything of value from the booth, he gave the rest of the lobby a quick peruse and found a few more bits and bobs, which he swiftly stashed away.
I think that's it for loot. Now I can head deeper and follow the rail north… Hopefully I don't come upon too many obstacles on my way there. I've dealt with enough trouble for one day.
Although he was hoping to have an easier time from this point on, he knew the journey ahead would be rough, regardless. I mean, he has faced a nonstop series of difficulties since he came to this world, so why would the world give him a break now of all times when he was inching closer and closer to his goal… Instead it was much more likely to throw everything at him, including the kitchen sink if it could.
From the lobby, John hopped the turnstiles and avoided all the dead as he approached the stalled escalators. Still just as driven as when he first devised his plans, he came upon the way down and shined his light from left to right across the metal steps. The intense, bright white LED light revealed the scene below, and what came into view was the same old path of carnage he'd been finding everywhere else along this path.
The survivors must be alive and kicking if I'm still coming across a trail of carnage and destruction.
Relieved to see their trail of kills continuing, John stood at the top of the steps and eyed the darkness with his night vision goggles. This went on for a few moments before he decided to begin his descent to the level or levels below. His introduction into this world had been fraught with danger, so he remained on edge and kept his assault rifle held tight against his shoulder and trained it on the unexplored in front. He slowly but surely descended the steps, and after a minute or two had passed, the subway platform came into view along with corpses of deceased infected… Plus a number of live ones.
And my difficulties continue.
Thankfully, he had paid special attention to being quiet, so he took full advantage of their lack of awareness of his presence and started taking their heads in rapid succession. John's suppressed shots rang throughout the subway for the third time, along with the clattering of spent brass casings. However, this instance didn't last long because silence quickly consumed the suppressed cracks when the final zed keeled over and hit subway tiles with a thud.
I'm gonna need to pack mags and reload again at this rate, but I think I should be safe for one more encounter before I should really consider doing it.
John had gone through around 150 rounds, give or take a dozen 7.62x39mm, but it was yet to become a major concern since he still had plenty of magazines loaded and ready to fire. Hence, he kept walking down the steps of the escalator whilst paying attention to the new environment and the many dark areas the hungry undead could come rushing out from. The moment he stepped foot onto the subway platform with his bloody boots, he scanned the new surroundings and scrutinized them heavily with his taclight beaming and his NVGs enhancing his ability to see in the dark.
What he saw was a standard train platform covered in rubble from collapsed sections of the tunnels, bodies spread all over, that were either cut apart, bashed, shot to shit, or chewed and devoured right to the bone, and a number of banged up train cars, many of which were derailed. And if that nightmarish wasn't bad enough, the lights were flickering intermittently, giving the already chilling scene an even more grim and unnerving atmosphere.
Man, this makes my days in the Middle East seem tame in comparison.
This whole combination would've sent many men turning back, but John knew this was realistically his only way forward. Thus he kept his eyes and ears peeled whilst he pushed into the large space with his drum-loaded KORD ready to dump its load on any incoming hostiles.