Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse With My Military System

On July 24th, 2023, a section of the thirty-second floor had undergone a transformation. It was now serving as a room dedicated to housing an unmanned aircraft vehicle and a fire control system for the C-RAM (Counter Rocket, Artillery, and Mortar) defense system. Inside this utilitarian space, Richard directed his attention towards a station that bore resemblance to an arcade setup.

At this station, a dedicated individual was stationed, communicating with the teams that were installing the C-RAM on the rooftop and the eighth floor.

Richard, his fingers lightly gripping the handle of his coffee mug, inquired with a hint of anticipation, "Is it finished?"

"In just a moment, sir," responded one of the fire control officers, their eyes never leaving the array of screens and controls before them.

Richard, with his coffee mug still in hand, made his way over to the station controlling the remote-controlled drone. His gaze shifted to the display on the monitors, which offered a live feed of the condominium complex from a vantage point 200 meters away and at an altitude of 300 meters.

He studied the screens intently, focusing on the eighth floor and the actual C-RAM installation. There were no survivors on the ground as they were told to keep out of the area. But he could still see them from the corners, curiously watching what the soldiers and technicians were doing.

The installation has been going on since three o'clock in the morning, a time when most people are asleep. He couldn't risk exposing himself using his ability to the survivors who might be peering down from the windows.

The plan for this morning was simple, that is to conduct a test fire from the C-RAM by intercepting drones in the sky.

The target drones have agility similar to the Flyers, making the operation not only a test fire but a simulation of a threat should Flyers come flying back with a battalion.

Five minutes later, the fire control officer beside Richard nodded, signaling readiness.

"Prepare to initiate the test fire," he instructed.

The fire control officer pressed a button, causing the C-RAM down below to automatically align its crosshair to the drone that was now moving in a zigzag pattern.

The C-RAM can be either manually controlled or automatically aligned to engage aerial threats.

The room fell into an expectant hush as all eyes remained glued to the screens, tracking the automated response of the C-RAM.

With split-second precision, the fire control officer removed the safeties, and the C-RAM's rapid-fire rounds streaked into the sky.

Richard and the officers inside could hear the shrill sound from the thirty-second floor, an oddly satisfying sensation washing over him. On the screen, the agile drone's signal displayed random, noisy, and often black-and-white dots or specks scattered across the display, indicating that it was intercepted.

"Target has been intercepted and destroyed," the fire control officer announced.

Richard smiled in satisfaction, with this, the Flyers would no longer pose a threat to them.

After witnessing the successful test, Richard left the room and went to the command center. The room was filled with high-end electronic equipment, arrays of screens, and a team of skilled technicians. It served as the nervous system for their security operations.

The staff inside the room paused what they were doing to give Richard a salute.

Richard saluted back as he entered deeper into the room. "Any luck on finding survivors?"

Sara stepped forward.

"We have been broadcasting messages on all frequencies, sir, and monitoring any incoming transmissions, but so far, there's been no response," Sara reported with a concerned look.

"Let's just hope that someone is still listening to the radio. How about the news channel? Are they really gone?"

"The news channel has not been broadcasting since the outbreak. We suspect they were overrun by zombies."

"How about government frequencies and the military? Any news about them?"

"I've been trying to access government and military frequencies, but there's been nothing, sir. It's as if all communication has gone dark."

"So in just a day, the government and the armed forces of the Philippines have fallen in just three days. Well, not that I blame them, we are not ready for this apocalypse."

No one really expected that a zombie outbreak of this scale would suddenly appear on the planet, giving the government and the military no time to respond. Not only that, zombie apocalypse scenarios are often treated as mere fiction in popular culture, so there is that.

"Keep trying," Richard said. "I'm sure that the government hasn't completely fallen yet. They may be hiding somewhere and have probably heard our transmission. The moment we receive word from them, we'll conduct a rescue operation. They may be the people who have valuable intel about this outbreak."

"I'll inform you the moment it happens, sir," Sara replied with determination.

"Sir!"

Richard's gaze flickered towards the source of the voice. It was Mark.

"This is the news from the Chief of Staff for Logistics," Mark informed as he handed him a folded piece of paper. Richard unfolded it and began reading, his expression growing more serious with each passing moment.

"I see…so with all the supplies that we scavenge, they calculated that we'd last only for another twenty days. We really need to clear the grid, Mark, how's the plan?"

"We have been working on it with the Chief of Staff for the Army, Airforce, and the Special Operations. A detailed plan will be ready tomorrow. For the meantime sir, about the volunteer forces."

"Ah…"

The volunteer forces are the forces made up of survivors who wanted to join their ranks and be useful. Any military-aged, male or female, can enlist. The idea went back to the time he oriented the survivors. It had almost forgotten him until Lisa told her yesterday about her wanting to learn how to use a gun.

"How many volunteers so far?"

"60 males and 30 females," Mark answered as if he was already holding the answer in his pocket. "Your little sister and her classmates were part of it. It makes me wonder, sir, you said that you are going to protect your sister, but allowing her to enlist means she'd go out there and fight zombies one day. Isn't that the opposite of you protecting her?"

Richard shook his head. "I just want her to learn how to defend herself in times of crisis. But I would never let her go out on that field."

"Your little sister would probably hate you on that," Mark chuckled softly.

"It's best that she hates me rather than me grieving for her loss," Richard replied.

As they were having a conversation, one of the communication officers flicked his fingers and alerted everyone.

"Sir! Sir! You have to see this!"

Richard, Mark, and Sara rushed over to the man's station and looked at the display of his monitor.

"This is live CCTV footage in Cubao, take a look," the man said, putting the specific scene on full screen for everyone to see.

The CCTV footage showed a chaotic scene in Cubao, one of the major districts in Metro Manila. The streets were filled with abandoned vehicles, debris, and signs of the recent chaos. But that was not the focus, it was a military-aged girl on a katana, cleaving and hacking beautifully and gracefully through the hordes of zombies.

"Now that is something you wouldn't often see happening in real life," Mark commented.

"Shit…" Richard cursed under his breath.