Chapter 85: To Eliminate Future Troubles

Wellington rolled up with a bunch of floodlights, already hooked up and ready to go. At his signal, they all blazed on, turning night into day in a flash.

The sudden brightness from behind the barbed wire of the little oasis forest freaked out Ethan and his jittery crew. The remaining zombies, with their ugly mugs clear as day, were right in their faces. The bright lights didn’t faze the zombies one bit; they kept coming at the humans. Ethan and his gang couldn’t give a damn about what was happening behind them; the zombie horde was the real deal.

The barbed wire got yanked aside, and five hundred armed dudes charged out. They set up steel plates with guns mounted on them, looking like police riot shields, just peeking their heads out. Voices came from above the small oasis forest, soon hovering over Ethan and his crew. Dozens of Type 95 rifles with low-light scopes acted as snipers from the dark, picking off key targets.

When the last zombie hit the ground, the gunfire stopped dead. The vibe was weird; one side was all geared up, while the other just stood there, clueless. For many, tonight was gonna be a nightmare. No one had a clue how the small oasis team would handle them.

Folks might wonder how five hundred could take on three thousand plus and stand a chance. But the bigger group wasn’t thinking that. They were all lit up by the opponent’s lights, while the other side had steel plate shields, leaving them out in the open on the sand.

What really got to them was that in their panic, they’d almost emptied two magazines in no time. Now, their guns were about as useful as sticks. How were they supposed to fight? The sound was a grim reminder that incendiary bombs could drop on them any second.

In this tense standoff, Rick, with a few guards, strolled to the middle of both sides. He looked at Ethan with a smirk and extended his hand, "Heard a lot about you. Seeing you today, you’re the real deal. I’m Rick. Guess Mr. Campbell hasn’t heard of me."

Ethan knew it was game over as soon as the small oasis folks showed up. He never thought that with over three thousand armed forces, he’d lose so badly. But thinking it over, it made sense. The other side’s strategy was too slick, predicting his every move and setting up attacks he couldn’t counter.

The small oasis had almost no casualties, while Ethan’s side had a couple hundred wounded. This seemingly small casualty battle was a morale killer. Especially the final move, using zombies as a weapon, was genius, beyond just "using a borrowed knife to kill."

Ethan didn’t shake Rick’s hand but stared at him, sighing, "Didn’t think with such a numbers gap, I’d lose so badly. Guess I underestimated Wellington."

Rick grinned, not the least bit embarrassed, and pulled his hand back, saying, "Mr. Campbell didn’t lose to me but to technology." He didn’t spill the beans on what tech and tricks the small oasis used but glanced at the folks lit up by the floodlights, saying, "You see the situation now. You know what choice to make."

Ethan wasn’t ready to give up just yet. "You really think you can take down over three thousand of us with just five hundred? That’s nuts." Even if he was losing, he still had numbers on his side and figured he could negotiate. Surrendering meant giving up everything.

Their back-and-forth got the whole group buzzing.

Rick laughed, "Mr. Campbell, you think you’ve got leverage? How many of your guns still have bullets? You know why I’m standing here in front of you? Because my snipers have your heads in their crosshairs. If you’re not scared of dying, go ahead, move your guns. I promise, your heads will be blown off in a second, turning you into headless corpses."

A few leaders’ faces went pale. They didn’t think Rick was bluffing.

Ethan believed Rick was serious, but anyone could talk big. If it came down to a fight, his side would take heavy hits, but so would the other side. Ethan bet they didn’t want casualties either; otherwise, Rick wouldn’t be here talking but fighting, which would be easier for them.

But to Ethan’s shock, the big shots he brought along, spooked by Rick’s threat, ditched their alliance and ordered their men to drop their guns and surrender. They didn’t care what Ethan thought; they lost, so why drag it out?

Ethan had no choice but to signal surrender, feeling like he aged ten years in a moment.

Tonight’s battle wrapped up fast and unexpectedly. The small oasis folks had seen them as tough enemies. Who’d have thought they’d capture them without a scratch? Wellington realized it was all thanks to the gadgets his team designed; otherwise, it wouldn’t have been so smooth.

Including Ethan, seven team leaders were taken to a tent in the small oasis, then escorted by a dozen armed soldiers, leaving the small oasis at night.

Ethan seemed to have seen this coming, but the other leaders were freaking out, "How can you do this? We surrendered! What do you want?" No one answered. After leaving the small oasis, they were shoved onto a truck, which drove off into the night.

After a couple of miles, the truck stopped. Rick got out from the passenger seat and waved for Ethan and the others to be brought down.

"Mr. Campbell, if you’ve got any last words, now’s the time. I’ll do my best to pass them on." Rick had someone bring out a bottle of wine, poured a glass for each person, and said, "Drink up, and I’ll send you on your way."

Ethan took the glass from Rick, sniffed it, and said, "It’s good wine." He downed it in one gulp and said, "Who should I leave my last words to? Good wine!"

The others were a mess, crying and shaking as they held their glasses.

Rick said, "You know, it didn’t have to end like this, but you’re ambitious and wouldn’t surrender. Keeping you around would be a future threat, so I’m sorry. Blame your greed. It’s late, drink up and be on your way!"

The cries and curses were endless. Soon after, a burst of gunfire rang out, then silence. After the truck left, eight bodies with bullet holes in their heads were left behind.