Chapter 119: Hold The Line
The first shot cracked through the air before Li’s command finished echoing.
Chen Minghao fired from the left window, his rifle bucking against his shoulder as the round punched through the lead zombie’s skull.
The impact was clean—entry wound centered, head snapping back from the force—but, unlike before, the body didn’t drop right away. It staggered forward two more steps, its momentum carrying it closer to the gate before its legs finally gave out and it collapsed onto the pavement.
Commander Li registered the delay without comment, his own rifle already tracking the next target in line.
The second zombie took a headshot from Liu Zhenyu’s position, the bullet tearing through bone and brain matter, but it continued its advance for another three steps before falling. The pattern repeated across the defensive line as more rifles opened fire in controlled sequence.
The sound of gunfire built into a steady rhythm rather than chaotic noise.
Each soldier fired, adjusted, fired again, their movements practiced and efficient.
Brass casings ejected and clattered against the porch floor, rolling into small piles near each shooter’s position. Li squeezed his trigger and felt the recoil travel through his shoulder as his target’s head jerked violently to the side.
The zombie stumbled but kept moving forward, its body refusing to acknowledge the fatal damage for several more seconds. Li shifted his aim to the next target without waiting to confirm the kill, trusting the headshot to finish what physics would complete.
The horde compressed tighter as the front ranks fell, rear elements stepping over bodies without breaking stride or formation.
"Second wave incoming! Seventy meters out," Deng Kai called out, his voice cutting through the gunfire thanks to the earpiece they were all wearing. "Formation holding."
Li’s rifle cracked again. Another headshot. Another zombie that took too long to fall. The distance between the tree line and the defensive perimeter was shrinking faster than the bodies were dropping.
Zhao Rui shifted his position slightly to the right, creating better overlap with Sun Ming’s coverage zone. Tan Wei adjusted left without needing instruction, his rifle tracking targets in smooth arcs as he fired and repositioned.
The soldiers moved in small increments, tightening their formation as the pressure built.
Wang Junjie reloaded with practiced speed, his hands moving through the motion automatically while his eyes stayed locked on the approaching horde. The fresh magazine clicked into place and he was firing again within two seconds.
"Sixty meters," Deng Kai reported. "Lead elements at the gate. Compression increasing."
The first zombie reached the driveway entrance where the gate stood partially open.
Gao Sheng’s shot took it through the forehead, the round punching clean through and spraying dark matter across the pavement behind it. The zombie’s legs kept pumping for another four steps, carrying it past the gate threshold before it finally collapsed in a heap.
Three more zombies followed immediately behind it, their bodies filling the gap before the first had finished falling. Chen Minghao fired twice in rapid succession, dropping both targets, but their momentum carried them forward into the driveway.
The choke point was narrowing as bodies piled up, but the horde wasn’t slowing. More zombies pushed through the gate, climbing over the fallen without hesitation.
Li shifted his aim to the right flank where the formation was compressing hardest. His shot dropped a zombie mid-stride, but two more appeared in its place before the body hit the ground.
The spacing between waves had collapsed entirely now—what had been organized lines with clear separation had become a continuous mass of bodies pushing forward with relentless pressure.
Liu Zhenyu fired, reloaded, fired again, his breathing controlled and his stance solid despite the escalating threat.
Zhao Rui called out without taking his eyes off his targets. "Left side pushing." His rifle cracked twice more, both shots landing clean, both zombies continuing forward for several steps before dropping.
"Fifty meters," Deng Kai said. His tone was tighter now, the professional calm showing strain at the edges. "Multiple breaches at the gate. They’re not stopping."
Li registered the observation as fact. The headshots were landing. The zombies were dying.
But they weren’t stopping the way they should. Dead things were supposed to drop when the brain was destroyed—immediate shutdown, instant collapse.
These kept moving, kept pushing forward on momentum and muscle memory that shouldn’t exist after fatal damage. The delay was only seconds, but seconds mattered when the horde was moving this fast.
Li fired again, his target going down after three more steps. He shifted to the next zombie in line, squeezed the trigger, watched it stumble forward before collapsing. The pattern held but the distance kept closing.
Sun Ming adjusted his position back toward the porch door, his rifle angling to cover the tighter approach. Tan Wei moved with him, both soldiers reading the compression and adapting their coverage without needing Li’s instruction.
The defensive line was contracting, pulling closer to the house as the perimeter became unsustainable.
Wang Junjie fired three shots in quick succession, each one a clean headshot, each zombie taking too long to fall. Gao Sheng shifted right to fill the gap, his movements controlled and deliberate despite the pressure building across the entire line.
The porch was becoming the final defensive position as the driveway filled with bodies and the horde continued its relentless advance.
And they were quickly running out of bullets.
"Contact at the gate," Chen Minghao reported, his voice flat and professional. He fired twice more, dropping both targets, but the gate was already compromised.
Zombies poured through the opening in a steady flow, their numbers overwhelming the choke point’s natural advantage. The bodies piling up in the driveway created obstacles but didn’t slow the advance—the horde simply climbed over the fallen and kept coming.
Li’s jaw tightened slightly but his expression remained controlled. He fired, adjusted, fired again, his movements automatic and precise. The rifle’s recoil was familiar, grounding, a physical constant in a situation that was becoming increasingly wrong.
"Forty meters," Deng Kai said. "Compression on right. They’re accelerating."
Li shifted his aim to the right flank where zombies were pushing hardest.
His shot dropped the lead target, but three more filled the space immediately. Zhao Rui and Liu Zhenyu concentrated fire on the same section, their shots landing in rapid sequence, but the pressure didn’t ease.
The zombies kept coming, kept pushing, kept moving forward even after fatal damage. Li’s finger moved smoothly through the trigger pull, the rifle cracking again, another target down.
He reloaded without looking, his hands performing the motion through muscle memory while his eyes tracked the next threat.
The fresh magazine seated with a solid click and he was firing again before the empty hit the porch floor.
The first zombie reached the porch steps.
Gao Sheng’s shot took it through the temple at close range, the impact snapping its head sideways with enough force to spray bone fragments across the railing. The body collapsed forward onto the steps, momentum carrying it halfway up before it finally stopped moving.
Two more zombies followed immediately behind it, their feet finding purchase on the fallen body as they climbed. Wang Junjie fired twice, both shots clean, both zombies continuing their advance for several more steps before dropping.
The porch was becoming the breach point, the final barrier before the defensive line collapsed entirely.
Li’s breathing stayed even. His grip on the rifle remained firm but not tense. The situation was escalating but panic wouldn’t change the outcome. He fired again, the shot punching through a zombie’s skull at thirty meters.
"Hold the line!"
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