Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse With My Military System

"Specter-1, this is Blackwatch Actual, can you approach the target? We need visual confirmation that it was taken down," Richard's voice sounded in Graves' earpiece.

"Copy that, Actual, approaching the target now," Graves acknowledged the order as he adjusted his camera on his helmet. 

The body of the woman lying on the ground was surrounded by the soldiers whose rifles were aimed at it, ready to pull the trigger should it move in a hostile way.

Approaching the body, Graves looked down on the body. Arms were dismembered, and most of its face had been removed. It was a gruesome sight that would almost make an average person double down and throw up. 

"Blackwatch Actual…are you seeing this?" Graves asked through his radio.

"Yeah, the visuals are clear and we can safely assume that the target has been eliminated," Richard confirmed. 

"What should we do to the body, Actual?" Graves asked, his gaze still fixed on the lifeless body. 

"I'd say we burn it—" Richard paused as he noticed something in the body. Tendril-like 

thingy slowly emerging from the woman's mangled flesh.

"What the hell is happening?" Graves exclaimed softly. 

Graves froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the tendril-like appendage writhe and snake its way out of the woman's ruined body. It seemed to pulse with an eerie, otherworldly energy, and it was growing longer with each passing moment.

"What the hell is that thing?" one of the soldiers muttered.

No one had an answer. They could only watch in morbid fascination as the tendril continued to extend itself, inching closer to the dismembered arms, as if it were trying to reattach them.

"Actual, we have a situation here," Graves said. "The body... it's not staying dead. Something is happening."

The soldiers tightened their grip on their rifles, their fingers hovering over the triggers. They were ready to open fire at a moment's notice if the situation escalated any further. 

As the tendril continued to elongate, it began to take on a more fleshy appearance, slowly morphing into a grotesque, makeshift limb. The woman's face, or what was left of it, was also regenerating, the torn and bloodied skin knitting itself back together.

Moments later, the woman that they had taken down returned to her normal appearance, like nothing had happened. But the body remained unconscious. 

Richard checked his system to see if his zombie encounters would update. But it didn't, indicating that she was not a mutated or an ordinary zombie. She was something else. 

"Actual…what do we do? Do we have to destroy it again?" Graves asked, his tone urgent. 

"Don't do such a thing," Richard ordered. "I want you to contain the body. We have to study it." 

"But Actual…you have seen its capabilities. It's dangerous to bring her in," Graves protested.

"Don't worry, we'll have a special facility that would contain her. Just bring her body back here, I'll handle the rest," Richard assured.

Graves hesitated, still staring at the woman who had miraculously regenerated. The soldiers around him exchanged uneasy glances but followed their training, maintaining their aim at the now seemingly dormant figure.

"Copy that, Actual," Graves finally replied, his voice resolute. "We'll secure the body for transport. Let's just hope that thing won't go south." 

***

Two hours later, Phase Three of the operation continued with Richard's soldiers still scouring every nook and cranny of the one square kilometer grid. They have covered 89 percent of the total area of the grid, meaning that it's only a matter of time before they can finally clear the grid.

Richard glanced at the floor-to-ceiling window and saw that the sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and red. He predicted by seven o'clock, they would have cleared the whole square kilometer grid.

As he watched the progress of his troops clear out the city, Mark approached him from behind.

Before Mark could speak, Richard's mouth opened. 

"How's the woman we contained?" 

"She is securely contained on the sixth floor. She regained her consciousness but surprisingly, she's not even trying to get out," Mark reported. 

Richard rubbed his chin and hummed aloud. "How about communication?" 

"Unresponsive sir. We inferred that she can't speak," Mark replied. 

"I'll go take a look," Richard said as he turned away from the television screen mounted on the wall. 

Mark trailed behind Richard and entered the elevator, taking them down to the sixth floor.

Arriving at the sixth floor, Richard was greeted with his soldiers standing outside on either side. 

He gave them a nod, acknowledging their vigilance, and then headed towards where the woman was contained.

Inside the room, the woman was held upright, her back against a sturdy steel table. Her limbs were tightly wrapped with three-inch thick steel restraints, ensuring that she wouldn't be able to break free by force. 

Richard bought the containment room from his system for two hundred and fifty thousand gold coins. It was expensive but it was that or she would go rampage if they held her in a facility that is not designed to keep someone like her in.

Richard approached the girl whose eyes were following his movement. 

"Sir, I advise that you don't go beyond 0.5 meters from her. She has an unpredictable behavior," Mark cautioned.

"Don't worry, Mark, I have common sense," Richard said as he locked eyes with the woman. "So, lady. I know my men have already done this but I want to test my luck. I'm the leader of a private military company known as Blackwatch. Our goal is to eliminate every zombie treading upon the soil of this planet. We saw a video of you fighting zombies and we prospected that you'd be an ally. But after killing three of my men who have shown no hostilities towards you changed my opinion of you. You don't distinguish between zombies and humans, you act as if on impulse alone, which makes you dangerous to be left alive." 

After saying all those words, the lady remained unmoving, her gaze locked onto Richard's as if she were absorbing every word he said.

Richard continued, "But I also believe that there's more to you than meets the eye. Your abilities are unlike anything we've encountered before. Superhuman strength and speed. How did you get those? Were you perhaps bitten by a zombie and evolved into a superior variant? But you are not a zombie according to my confidential classification. What are you?"

"Sir…it's useless, the lady won't talk," Mark said.

Richard nodded, confirming their earlier assessment. The woman's silence was beginning to wear on him, but he remained determined to get some answers. After all, she is not a zombie, she is something else, something else he needs to find out.

"Very well," Richard said, his voice firm. "We have ways of extracting information if she doesn't speak. We are going to make her our lab rat." 

As Richard and Mark were about to leave the room, a soft feminine voice sounded from behind. 

"I–Impossible—" 

Richard and Mark snapped their heads around to see the woman, still restrained, but now with her eyes wide open. It was the first sound they had heard from her since her capture. 

"Did you say something?" Richard approached the lady once again, eagerly anticipating her response. The woman hesitated for a moment as if struggling to find the right words. 

"Why are there still remains of you—? My master—already eliminated—your—kind."

"What the hell is she talking about?" Mark tilted his head to the side.

"Master? Who are you referring to?" 

"Master—the—one—that—will—rule—this—new—world."