I hid behind a debris while the flashlight was placed on the ground near me, illuminating the weapon in my hands. I had to use both hands to clean my AK-47 fast. I also sat down for a moment.

  I was constantly on the lookout for any noise.

  After I was done cleaning the weapon, I checked my inventory.

  Ammo-wise, I had four magazines left or a total of 120 bullets for the AK.

  As for my pistol, I hoped there would be no need to rely solely on it. I had yet to use it in this mission.

  My other equipment was mostly fine, excluding the gas mask. It got smashed while I was falling and getting hit by collapsing objects. Now, it was disfigured, its lenses had broken, its filters were damaged and even the pouch was pierced. I discarded this junk with the pouch it was in.

  As for my health, I was totally fine! Or at least for someone who fell two floors downwards. My back hurts. The explosion was enough to make it ache for a while, but the fall was the one to harm me the most. The fall also bruised me here and there.

  My wear was relatively fine. Yes, they were bloody, dusty, muddy and wet, but that was it. That said, I could lament that I got soaked with cold water in a cold place. I would better move to warm up before the hypothermia hits.

  I cleaned the flashlight of all the dirt it had, put the silencer on my pistol and put the AK on my back.

  I always found it ridiculous how the length of my Glock doubled after putting the silencer on.

  I held the flashlight with my left arm and the pistol with my right.

  The mission from ‘seek and destroy’ became ‘survive’ for me.

  With the half-baked clean of my main gun, I should refrain from unnecessary engagements.

  Seems like I would have to sneak around and try to climb up slowly or dash like a madman.

  I would have loved going for the second option, but my ignorance of the layout dropped the idea immediately.

  I felt that the zombies I dealt with were slightly peculiar. They recently turned and had armor, but could not run. Why was that?

  I decided to check the corpses fast. All had serious wounds on their legs. They were no Walkers; they were injured Runners. I got a bad feeling about this…

  I think I was forgetting something. How important could it be since I had already forgotten about it?

  I started to move towards the path from where the Walkers came.

  No new enemies were detected.

  I decided that I needed more information to ease my gut feeling. Therefore, I threw a flare behind me as further as I could.

  I saw that the area was big. The water was enough to create a small pond, which reduced my impact, but it was now filled with rubble. The most troubling thing I realised was that the other side was part of a cave with a blocked entrance. The stalagmites or stalactites among the blockage made me believe it was a cave.

  Not them! If they were here, I would need to do my best.

  I lit the ceiling and partially saw the upper level. It had more holes than places to step on, even if the hole I made was excluded.

  The height between the first and second floor was two or three metres, but the height between the third and fourth looked like it was at least five.

  The ground on the current was a combination of rubble, dirt and occasionally some moisture. Every few metres, there were tunnel supports.

  In conclusion, the fourth floor was in the process of being built as something for the base, but they came across a cave and had to stop until it was explored. That made me wonder, why was it sealed? I suspect that this level was also the most dangerous one in the entire mission.

  Was I already in the cave? Did the zombie attack come from the last level? Then why was the wall damaged from the north? This discovery opened so many possibilities.

  But I was sure of one thing: I hope that no Stalkers were here… I was ill-equipped for them.

  I started to move silently, as in this darkness I could only use my hearing for all-around awareness and my flashlight, but only in one direction.

  If I were not careful, I could get ambushed and getting ambushed in here would mean the end of the line for any normal “mercenary”.

  I could hear some explosions from the upper floors and feel the vibrations.

  At times, some parts of the ceiling were falling, but nothing major.

  A few holes, enough to count with one arm, gave me the rare opportunity to see a light that managed to get down here through some of the massive craters or small holes above my head, even if very little.

  I did not know how or why. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part, perhaps I hit my head too hard or maybe the electricity was restored somehow and a few of the lights got activated.

  The problem was that the sound of explosions and shaking was getting more common.

  I wondered where all that explosive mass was 30 minutes ago.

  It seemed like it was all a trap to lure us in and bury us alive.

  Yet this place was yet to crumble.

  I would have to take care of the perpetrator before I could survive. That thing would not let us escape as long as it was alive or to be more precise – moving.

  Time for VIP assassination.

  The ground had a few corpses here and there, but fewer than the previous floors.

  I kept on moving until I found a threat.

  Sounds of silent groans could be heard 10 metres to my left, around a corner. Not one or two, but many. Probably no less than seven.

  I threw a flare to light the said area and spied. I managed to count 11 zombies staying guard.

  Even with the noise the flare made, only one of them went to check it, while the others were doing their own shenanigans. One was pulling off its hair, while another one was hugging itself.

  If they were just Walkers or Runners, I would have killed them to get past them.

  The problem was in what they were wearing – military clothing, helmets and armor vests.

  Usually, a zombie cannot wield human weapons nor wear armor, let alone create any of them. They could only wear armor if they had some “help” for that. Some zombies are “born” with armor on them. Others “evolve” to have natural armor.

  A few classified types of zombies could give commands to their kind. Depending on their intellect, they could put armor on some of the zombies they command and make them their personal “guards”.

  What makes them scary? Unlike the common rabble of undead that could be seen everywhere, they have the ability to think comparably to a human.

  The zombies that can give commands are known as ‘Rulers’.

  There is information about them, but some of it is theoretical. They are rare and finding a live specimen for testing is a risky endeavour. The higher the grade of the creature, the harder it is to subdue it alive.

  The “king of the kings” for the zombies is called ‘King’.

  It is believed that he has ‘high’ or ‘very high’ even by human standards intellect. Adding his monstrous combat ability, he is at the top of the food chain.

  The ‘Queen’ is believed to be in almost the same boat as the King, but with one minor difference – she could give orders only if the King she served gave her that privilege. She is also a monster on the battlefield

  Both are relatively few, with the females being more. Little is known about them. There are theories why the Kings are fewer than the Queens, but the one I support is that males killed the competition, while females supported the future Queens.

  If I had a harem for myself that did everything, why would I allow someone else to steal my concubines from me?

  But they should not be a problem at the moment. If an ordinary “mercenary” were to meet either of the two, it would be their end.

  In contrast, the zombies in this mission thus far all had ‘none’ intellect. They moved mindlessly, without a plan, to the closest human and their movements were predictable. They relied on sheer numbers to overwhelm, but their strength paled compared to the higher-grade zombies.

  The main difference between a zombie with ‘none’ and another one with any other higher intellect was, in short, catastrophic.

  A “dumb” zombie has no idea what it is doing. It is simply a predator, a carnivore, trying to satisfy its hunger, obeying commands mindlessly and killing humans or creatures that show hostility.

  The “smarter” a zombie is, the more it can see the “big picture”. They can think to an extent, see mistakes in the constantly changing battlefield and strike where they will do the most harm. The smartest ones know the value of their life and will try to preserve it. They are the reason why the virus continued to be a threat to humanity.

  For example, if a Runner were to chase someone around a pillar, it would just run straight after their tail, cycling endlessly.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  If the same situation were to occur, but with a “smart” zombie, it would realise what the person was doing and turn to run the other way in the hope of catching them.

  The first had no emotions and no self-preservation, while the latter did to some degree.

  I predicted that my target should be a Commander or Overlord at the worst.

  ‘Commander’ is an infected with ‘low to medium’ intellect.

  They are able to give orders to low-tier zombies such as Walkers, Runners or Bombers.

  The commands cannot be too complicated and the fewer zombies it has to command, the better it orders them.

  At best, they could order a horde to focus its power on one point or prepare a simple ambush. Part of their zombies wearing armor are kept around them for safety reasons.

  In a horde of 5 000 zombies, there should be one of them. Their combat capabilities are slightly better than a Runner's. They like to run when humans get within gunning distance.

  Usually, they are accompanied by their “guards” – Walkers and Runners with armor. The guards are used as decoys while the Commander escapes.

  They look like a Runner, but more refined. They rarely have serious wounds on their bodies and the necrosis is difficult to spot, but the skin has slightly changed colour. They also like wearing human clothes, but have problems dressing themselves. Luckily, they do not wear armor.

  ‘Overlord’ is a Commander, but way better.

  Intelligence is ‘medium to high’ and can command a horde of 50 000 or more while also giving commands to Commanders to make sure the horde is doing well.

  They can even issue complicated commands, such as forcing a horde to split or combine, helping zombies wear armor and making calculations – for example, determining how many zombies from the horde would need to be sacrificed to render a city's wall useless.

  Unlike the Commander, their “guards” are better, which makes them confident if they were to be attacked. If the guards were losing the fight, the Overlord would retreat.

  They like to enjoy seeing how their attacker is killed and can make clear facial expressions of happiness (smile), fear and others. It is believed that they hold grudges and remember those who harmed them or forced them to retreat.

  They have the same combat capacity as a Commander.

  They also like wearing clothes, but are more proficient in dressing themselves. They also refuse to wear armor.

  Excluding the red dots in their eyes and their inability to speak human language, they look humanlike. Their necrosis, if they have any, is hard to spot and often is hidden under the clothes they wear.

  Both the Commander and Overlord are crucial to the unity of a horde.

  I would get it if a stray Commander were to take shelter here, but an Overlord? They were too valuable.

  The armor on the “guards” varies, but usually it is some light metal for the low-ranked zombies. Only humans who already wore armor get a better one after turning.

  A gun with 20 or more millimetres of pen should be able to go through the crude armor with no difficulty, but for military armor vests, it was about finding the gaps. Other zombies evolve with thick skin and are also considered armored, but for them, even with my AK, it would be an ordeal.

  The armor, whether crude, professional or natural, would save them from low-calibre guns, shrapnel and make close combat with them harder.

  My trusty weapon would make short work of the Walkers and Runners, whether they were with or without armor.

  The problem was that the noise would alert the Ruler about an intruder around their vicinity.

  But was that bad? I initially thought that getting up stealthily was enough, but killing the head would almost guarantee my survival, if I could take it out and its guards.

  The Ruler here was cornered and would have their elites around them or guarding nearby. If I were to make some come to hunt me down, I would know the way to go.

  Otherwise, I could continue being sneaky and try to find a way to pass or evade the ones before me and look for fewer stationary zombies to break through with a fight.

  In the first idea, my survivability would depend on the number of bullets I had left and it would force me into fighting, but it was the faster solution. In the latter, getting caught would mean my death, but if I had the time, I would eventually leave. Both had pros and cons.

  The third option was to kill them silently, but that was not happening here. Their armor made using my pistol risky and their number was a threat if they ganged up on me.

  If I wanted to force my way out, I had to use the AK. Why did I even put the silencer?

  I gambled with shooting. I would try to save bullets as much as I could.

  I holstered my pistol, got the AK in my arms and held the flashlight with my teeth.

  Lily’s way of using it was not for me.

  I was trying to aim for heads while the flare continued to give off some visibility.

  Three more flares were left to be of use.

  ‘Bang’, ‘Bang’, ‘Bang’ …

  The echo of my shots in this silence was deafening. I was sure that every moving thing on the level knew I was here.

  I managed to take down three with the surprise attack.

  They immediately dashed in my direction and some roared.

  As they were closing in, I managed to take down another four.

  The emergency repair on my gun seemed to be working.

  By the time they were too close for me to shoot, I dropped my gun on the ground and readied for a melee fight.

  Fighting one-on-one was easy, but with the number of enemies increased to four, things were not as well.

  I had to be wary of their attacks. I had to evade, parry, dodge and make them lose balance before finishing one of them, while also needing to be fast.

  Otherwise, there was too much risk of being counter-attacked, overwhelmed and killed. If I took my time, other zombies would come.

  The closest Runner to me had no “allies” within a meter around it. This was a chance to make the fight a bit more even. I had to act.

  I retreated behind the corner and allowed it to make the first move. I aimed to use the opening it would make for a counterattack. It swung its arms at me.

  ‘Smack’.

  I parried its left arm and grabbed its right with my left. I kicked its left leg’s joint and heard the sound of breaking bones. It lost balance and fell a few steps behind me, but I had no time to finish it. I threw it behind me.

  The other three had already closed the distance. I also got closer to them.

  One charged at me and I dodged it by going sideways, giving it a kick on its back to make it fall.

  The second tried biting me around my neck from my left side, while the third was trying to attack me from my right.

  With my knife in my left arm, I went for a quick stab at its eyes. If that did not stagger it, I was going to be forced to take a hit. As for the other one, I went for my pistol and aimed at its right leg.

  ‘Bang’.

  I shot the leg and it lost some balance, but not enough to stop its attack.

  As for the other one, since I was too busy to focus on aiming my gun, I did not hit the eye but managed to pierce its face, which was enough for it to miss its bite. I then hit it with the handle of my knife to make it lose balance and it staggered backwards a step.

  As for the attacker on my right side, I was forced to parry its arms with my forearm and I counterattacked by stabbing the side of its head with a knife before it managed to bite my arm.

  One down. Three more to go.

  Were I to have made any mistake here, I would have died or been in grave danger.

  The zombie with the broken leg was trying to get up and walk towards me, but it fell on the ground. It was not an immediate threat. I had 30 or so seconds to deal with the other two before it became a problem.

  The zombie which I had dodged and kicked was coming at me from behind in a mad sprint, while the one I pushed slightly had completely recovered and was about to charge me.

  They were about to attack me at the same time from my back and front. I waited for the perfect moment to get out of the way and made them hit one another.

  Their collusion stopped them for a bit and I had the opportunity to aim for their unarmored side of the head.

  ‘Bang’, ‘Stab’.

  The next moment, they were on the ground.

  The last one gave up on the idea of walking and started crawling. It got closer to me and stretched its arms. A kick to the arms that tried grabbing me from below and after stepping on its arms with my feet, I was free to stab its eye and kill it. When I restricted its movements, all it did was struggle and scream at me, but to no avail.

  All this took around a minute or two at the worst.

  A Walker that crawls is not considered a Crawler. Adding all instances into categories was too much. How would a one-armed Runner be called? How would it be called with a missing left arm? If it was the right arm missing? If both?

  Having both the Walker and Runner as the basic zombies was more than enough.

  I got my dropped gun, put it on my back and started to run in the direction they were guarding while I still had no “company”.

  The more I ran, the more enemies that tried to intercept me became.

  Most of them came from one side, although my sense of direction in the current situation was not very good, but some came from other angles.

  Seems like there were a bunch of routes to my target.

  Most zombies came in groups of no more than five or as singles.

  I shot once or twice to take care of the Runners in front of me and outran the ones behind me. I had to spare ammo.

  The few times a Walker blocked my way, I did not feel like wasting ammo on it. Therefore, I either juked them by dodging their mad swing and went past them or had to forcefully get them out of my way with a kick or a fist.

  As long as I did what I had in mind, the Walkers and even the Runners might not be a problem worth worrying about. Not the biggest one, at least.

  A more pressing matter was the low visibility.

  The flashlight helped me see up ahead to a maximum of 10 metres, which gave me around three seconds to dispatch any obstacle on my way.

  There was occasional light from the surface or somewhere above me, but it was scarce and had almost no effect. An area of around three square metres got lit, but most areas I ran through were in total darkness.

  I would have loved to use my hearing, but as I was making a lot of noise myself and I could hear zombies from all sides, it was unreliable.

  For my weaponry, I was left with two magazines for my main gun. If I were to have any chance of killing my target, I had to stop using my assault rifle.

  As for my pistol, a Glock 19 with five ammo magazines, it should be enough to slow down the Runners. It would usually outright kill them, but due to the armor they were wearing, it felt risky. Making them unable to run was plenty in my situation.

  I currently had four spare mags with 15 rounds, which meant I had 60 rounds plus the ammo I had currently in the gun.

  All zombies either wore military sets or had crude armor. It seemed like my prediction was correct – the last level was the most dangerous.

  The more I ran, the more I felt like I was made to run in circles. I started marking now and then the walls with my knife and eventually, I realised they really were forcing me to run in circles.

  Those bastards… The ones chasing me lacked the brains to think of something like this.

  By the time I understood that, I had two mags left for my pistol.

  Their master’s plan was rather meticulous: tire me and finish me when I was exhausted. It might seem like the smartest way, but in such a closed space, surrounding and blocking my way was both the fastest and deadliest solution.

  It was not that the plan it decided on was bad.

  A few “mercenaries” are quite the monsters themselves. They could even fight Runners head-on naked and win. If I were one of them, surrounding me with such rabble might help me have a fast workout.

  The creature could not be certain how strong I was and tiring me was the safest way. The more exhausted a human was, the weaker they were. Sending the best it had at the start was a mistake and it knew it, but when the human was on their last legs, what could they do against the best it had?

  But why did it decide I was a threat?

  I somehow managed to get here, the last level. That meant I passed its test and became a serious threat it had to take care of.

  The more I ran amok, the dangerous I would look in its eyes.

  During the running around, I managed to get an idea of where I should go.

  After a right turn on the corridor that I had marked in the last loop with the fresh corpse of a zombie, I would take a left turn, keep running straight until I saw a lit area and then turn right at the next intersection.

  For the last five loops I did, I saw no zombies coming from there. It could be the right way or a trap.

  The gamble was risky, but not as much as running out of ammo.

  For a while, I ran through a narrow corridor while a swarm of an unknown number of armored Runners was behind me.

  I had the desire to meet with the one who constructed this building and explain what they tried with this layout. I felt like a trapped rat!

  I feared I might have fallen for a trap. If I get sandwiched by a force equal to the one behind me, I would be in trouble.

  I tried to think about possibilities, but a large creature demanded all my attention. In front of me, a Bomber was waiting. It was one of the few things thus far on the floor that lacked armor.

  The path I was on looked like it would crumble from an explosion. Some of the tunnel supports were damaged, others were already broken. If an explosion were to occur, the corridor might get blocked and I would be able to escape the ones chasing me.

  I grabbed my Glock and aimed at the weak spot – green outgrowth. It was not the one I looked for. Yellow was fine, red was also useful, but green was tricky to use to my advantage, as its explosion was the weakest.

  My timing had to be precise for all bombers to pull it off. This one needed to explode after I evaded it. Therefore, the acid would not harm me, but it also had to spill on the tunnel supports.

  That said, if I were to make a mistake here, I would be cornered or buried alive – both as good as dead.

  There was no time to think of something else and I proceeded. I aimed next to the weak spot.

  ‘Bang’.

  It was a direct hit, millimetres from the weak spot. A barely audible noise like a burning fuse could be heard from the place I hit. If my gut feeling was correct, it would explode seconds after I ran past it.

  I went to its right side.

  The big boy swung its massive right arm at me.

  Before it attacked, I changed my position to its left side and managed to pass around it while its arm hit the ground. As it was clumsy, it was too slow to attack me again.

  Seconds later, I heard the expected explosion behind me. The ceiling shook, the wooden supports creaked and soon – the sound of rubble falling down. There was a slight shockwave, but it was nothing worth worrying about.

  I did not turn back.

  After the explosion, no more things were chasing me.