Chapter 50: Fighting Zombie Bats Again

Diving suits are protective gear designed to allow human movement underwater. The buoyancy of water makes it so that even when wearing heavy diving gear, one barely feels the weight. However, once on land, wearing such equipment complete with a fully sealed helmet makes movement remarkably difficult, as one can easily imagine.

The moment Guo Zijiang tore away the protective shield, a Crasher violently smashed through the fragile hatch. A swarm of zombie bats subsequently flooded in, covering the sky and blotting out the sun. They quickly spotted the two strange figures whose silhouettes were almost identical to humans and hurled themselves straight at them.

"This thing is fucking heavy," Zhao Qiang muttered, moving his arms. A dozen palm-sized zombie bats were crawling all over them, biting frantically. The thick foam rubber almost perfectly blocked their sharp teeth, while the exceptional elasticity and toughness of the Lycra fabric rendered the little monsters helpless against the two men inside the diving suits.

Zhao Qiang pinched a zombie bat and brought it up to his eyes. The creature struggled desperately, its ferocious face baring sharp fangs like a demon straight from hell. Zhao Qiang increased the pressure of his grip, and the tiny zombie bat let out a heart-rending screech. Frowning in disgust, Zhao Qiang abruptly hurled the bat against the ground, followed by viciously and repeatedly grinding his combat boot over it until nothing was left but a bloody pulp.

Meanwhile, an enraged Crasher was struggling within the narrow doorway. They were far too eager, making it nearly impossible for their bulky bodies to squeeze through the tight opening.

"Start now!" Saber nodded, sharply pulling back the forend of his shotgun. In close-quarters combat, the firepower of a shotgun was not to be underestimated; even a Crasher, when hit squarely in the chest, was forced to stagger back several meters.

The Crasher's two giant arms were wedged in the corridor. Lacking the space to generate leverage, it couldn't pull its arms out for the moment, and could only glare with wide eyes, roaring at the muzzle pressed right against its nose.

"Boom!" The shotgun roared. There was no flame, no gunpowder smoke—only the Crasher's head being transformed into a sieve riddled completely through.

Following closely behind Saber, Zhao Qiang struck the moment the gunshot faded. Two machetes flashed downward simultaneously, their pristine blades sweeping past the Crasher's shoulders. A few black beads of blood seeped from the wound, gradually merging into a thin crimson line.

Behind the slowly sliding, falling Crasher, a giant fist rapidly expanded in his field of view. "Get back!" Zhao Qiang roared, leaping to the side. The disadvantage of the diving suit manifested itself at that exact moment; Zhao Qiang's movement was a fraction of a second too slow. The corpse of the dead Crasher flew past like a cannonball, grazing his shoulder, propelled by none other than another zombie.

Even just a glancing blow felt as though he had been struck in the shoulder by a speeding heavy truck. While still airborne, he spat a mouthful of blood that stained the visor of his helmet.

Because Saber had slipped away to the side immediately after firing, he remained unscathed. Without time to check on Zhao Qiang's injuries, he spun around and fired straight toward the doorway. As the gunsmoke cleared, the second Crasher's head was blasted completely to pieces by the shotgun slugs, and it collapsed limply to the ground.

"How are you?" After firing, Saber quickly retreated back into cover. Zhao Qiang was now half-reclined against the corner, his head lolling to one side as his chest rose and fell slightly.

"Still breathing." Zhao Qiang laboriously raised his right hand and gave a thumbs-up. His condition was abysmal: his left shoulder was dislocated, and the state of his ribs was far from ideal. Every breath brought a piercing, agonizing pain, indicating severe internal injuries. The only stroke of luck was that the diving suit had not ruptured.

"Can you move?" Saber asked, firing another shot into the open, causing a large flock of zombie bats to plummet in response.

"No problem." Zhao Qiang used the tip of his blade to prop himself up and wobbled to his feet. "Damn it, my ribs cracked again," he muttered under his breath, carefully regulating his breathing to prevent the fractured bones from piercing deeper. The thick diving suit not only blocked the zombie bats' teeth but also prevented Zhao Qiang from determining the exact severity of his injuries.

Although New Humans had developed formidable physical regenerative abilities, those powers were not omnipotent. When dealing with injuries like fractures, prompt medical treatment was essential. After all, misplaced bones would not magically return to their original positions on their own, and once broken bones healed in the wrong alignment, trying to correct them later... well, it was best not to dwell on that process at a time like this.

"Saber, give me a hand!" Zhao Qiang tilted his head toward his limply dangling left arm. A dislocated arm could still be reset in a very short amount of time.

"Let these bastards taste our power!" Following a loud snap, Zhao Qiang flexed his slightly swollen left arm. Though not as nimble as before, it was at least functional for combat once again.

"Charge out!" Saber growled softly. Two figures instantly flashed out from the cabin. The battlefield finally shifted from the interior to the deck, and the scales of combat began to tilt slightly back toward the humans.

Their brief bout of combat had only temporarily taken down a few Crashers; a massive horde of zombie bats was still circling menacingly in midair, swirling and shrieking as they lunged toward the two figures who had just broken out.

"Tiger, Lone Wolf calling Tiger, do you copy?" Yang Ning's voice came through the earpiece, backed by the roaring hum of helicopter propellers.

"Lone Wolf, are you here to collect our corpses?" Zhao Qiang's heart instantly leaped into his throat. He knew all too well the consequences of a bird colliding with an aircraft; the outcome of facing so many bats could easily be imagined. "You're too early." He had no wish for Lone Wolf to come and share their watery grave at this moment.

"Report your position." Yang Ning's tone brooked no argument.

"Negative, too many bats, you won't get through," Zhao Qiang persisted in refusing.

"Just zombie bats, piece of cake." Yang Ning's tone was impossibly breezy.

...

Looking down through the cockpit, everything was pitch black. The river and the dock merged into a single sheet of pitch, creating a true matching of water and sky. Through the night vision goggles, zombies were everywhere, yet there was no sign of the Tiger Squad.

Zombie bats swarmed the sky, blotting out everything. Only the roaring echoes of shotguns could be heard, without a single flash of gunfire visible to guide them. Yang Ning searched frantically in all directions, utterly failing to lock onto his target.

Finally, after the communication ended, through a momentary gap in the swirling swarm of zombie bats, Yang Ning caught sight of a dim, flickering flare.

"Tiger, I've got you. Watch out, it's about to rain!" Yang Ning pushed the cyclic control stick down.