The battle was over.
The bodies of the fallen—both Medjay and undead—littered the streets, the stench of blood and decay thick in the air.
The convoy had survived, but barely.
Carter wiped the sweat from his forehead, his breathing heavy.
They had won, but they couldn't afford to waste time mourning.
As a watch force continued to look at the surround the rest got to work hauling the bodies off the road to clear the path for the convoy to carryon moving forward.
The job was simple, but they had a more important job to do.
They had come here for a reason.
Food.
"Move out,"
Carter commanded, voice steady despite the lingering tension as everyone once more got into their vehicles.
Atem and the other captains relayed the order, and the convoy resumed formation, pushing deeper into the warehouse district.
The trucks rumbled forward, weaving through the battered industrial roads, past abandoned distribution centers and skeletal remains of burned out delivery vehicles.
The Medjay warriors spread out, watchful, weapons drawn, scanning every alley, every rooftop, every darkened doorway.
The battle had been loud, and while they had dealt with the immediate threats, there was no telling what else lurked within the district.
The first warehouse they reached was a bust.
Carter, Atem, and a small team of engineers and scavengers pried open the rusted metal doors—only to find electronic goods.
"Nothing good for us here, least for now,"
Marcus muttered, prodding an overturned pallet with his shotgun.
Carter scowled.
They had expected failures, but seeing an entire warehouse full to the brim but with nothing they were going to take was still frustrating.
"On to the next one."
The convoy moved again, following city maps Carter had in hand using a marker to shade in this particular warehouse and marking what it contained so they could quickly return in the future and get what they needed.
The second warehouse was no better.
Most of the non-perishables had already been stripped away, leaving behind crumbled cardboard boxes and shattered glass jars.
"Damn scavengers,"
one of the labourers muttered.
Marcus shook his head.
"Not scavengers. This place was professionally looted."
Carter frowned.
"Meaning?"
"See how the pallets are neatly stacked? The loading docks are clear. Someone emptied this place with forklifts and trucks—not in a panic, but systematically."
Carter's mind raced.
Could another group be hoarding supplies?
Had someone beaten them to the North End?
Was it the military?
They did have a base on the further north End.
The idea made his stomach churn.
But before he could dwell on it—
"Sir!"
A scavenger called from outside.
"We've found something!"
Jackpot—A Warehouse Full of Supplies
The third warehouse was intact.
Carter's breath caught as he stepped through the heavy doors, his flashlight sweeping over towering shelves stacked with pallets of food.
Canned goods.
Dried grains.
Bottled water.
This was it.
This was the motherlode.
Atem let out a low whistle.
"The gods favour us this day."
Carter didn't waste time.
"Everyone in! Load the trucks!"
The survivors surged forward, grabbing anything and everything.
The labourers worked fast, using handcarts and manual lifting to haul sacks of rice, flour, and dried beans into the delivery vans.
Meanwhile, the skilled survivors activated the forklifts, carefully maneuvering pallets of canned goods toward the semi-truck trailer that had been backed in to the loading dock.
The chariots circled the perimeter, their riders keeping watch for any incoming threats.
This was the most vulnerable moment—they were occupied, distracted, and weighed down with supplies.
If the undead attacked now…
Carter didn't want to think about it.
As the operation continued, Carter couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
The district was too quiet since that first and only attack.
Even after the earlier battle, they should have seen stragglers—lone Walkers, maybe another Stalker or two.
But there was nothing.
It was as if the undead were avoiding the area.
Marcus seemed to notice it too.
He approached Carter, keeping his voice low.
"This doesn't feel right."
Carter nodded.
"I know."
They weren't alone.
But whoever—or whatever—was watching them was staying hidden.
And that was even worse.
~
They had completely loaded up the delivery vans with everything they could hold, meanwhile the semi trailer was still being loaded with more pallets.
They were almost finished—
Then it happened.
A distant, inhuman screech.
Not from the warehouses.
Not from the streets.
From above.
Carter's blood went cold.
Oh no.
A Medjay archer shouted from atop one of the chariots, pointing toward the rooftops.
"Above us!"
Carter spun around, his eyes snapping to the skyline.
And there—
Perched atop a nearby warehouse rooftop—
There was a new kind of undead, it was honestly the most disturbing undead he'd seen to date.
It looked a little like a undead version of a *ez Dispenser, with nothing but a stump of a body seemingly floating in place with a massive head comprised over 60% with a massive mouth.
Quickly pulling up the Zombie survival guide he got his answer as to just what in the hell this thing was.
A Howler.
New System Alert
🚨 WARNING: HIGH THREAT UNDEAD IDENTIFIED 🚨
▶ Name: Howler
▶ Type: Tier III Undead (Horde-Summoner Variant)
▶ Threat Level: EXTREME
▶ Traits: Ear-Piercing Screech, Horde Summoning, High Mobility
▶ Weakness: Throat/Larynx (Prevent Screaming)
⚠ ALERT: The Howler is preparing to summon reinforcements.
Carter's stomach dropped.
This was a new threat not dangerous in itself but capable of summoning the undead.
"TAKE IT DOWN! NOW!"
The Medjay archers reacted instantly, drawing their bows—
But they were too late.
The Howler threw back its head unhinging it's jaw such that it looked like it had self-decapitated—
AND SCREAMED.
The sound was unlike anything Carter had ever heard.
A shrill, unholy wail, like metal scraping against bone, like the sound of death itself.
The sheer force of it rattled the air, sending crates toppling over, and forcing everyone to cover their ears in pain.
Then—
From every direction—
The dead answered the call.
They came pouring out of just about everywhere.
From side streets, alleyways, warehouses, and abandoned lots—
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Not just Walkers.
But Stalkers.
And something bigger.
A third Devourer.
Carter's eyes went wide.
"DEFENSIVE FORMATION! NOW!"
The Medjay warriors rushed to their positions, forming shield walls between the convoy and the incoming horde.
The archers fired upward, trying desperately to silence the Howler—
But it was fast—leaping from rooftop to rooftop, dodging arrows with unnatural agility.
But the speed of an arrow was vastly different from bullets fired from rifles
Quickly taking sight and unleashing a fast three shot burst.
The bullets soared through the air and ripped with deadly precision through the throat of the Howler.
It's ability was sealed at least until it could heal, as if knowing that the head started to slowly raise as it's maw sealed itself, but Carter wasn't one to waste this chance he quickly fired another three-burst shot all of which found their mark in it's head and the creature fell over, with a system notification informing of it's demise.
Carter cursed, as he turned his focus back to the oncoming zombie assault.
They couldn't repel a horde of this size.
He turned to Atem and Marcus.
"Hold the line, we need to get out of here NOW!"
The Medjay braced themselves.
The survivors clutched their weapons.
The horde charged.
The survivors had ended their looting, and started to load up within the vehicles once more, Meanwhile, the Medjay took up position to become the final line of defence till the convoy was able to blast it's way through the horde and retreat back to the safe zone, even if it meant leading the horde there.
Lest he reveal his secret there was no way to summon new reinforcements out here.