Combat

As dusk fell, the forest grew ever deeper.

Caesar sat in his camping chair, looking at the dark forest, where the sounds of birds and insects had become very rare.

The camping chair was placed on top of the RV, making it easy for him to observe the entire campsite.

He glanced at the current layout of the camp.

On the side of the camp that borders the woods, there is a row of vehicles. This is used to block the walkers.

On both sides of the camp, large trucks and pickup trucks were used to block the way, and various miscellaneous items were piled up to make it very solid, so that the zombies would not be able to rush into the camp from the gravel roads on both sides.

One side of the cliff was empty, and Caesar and the others who participated in the battle fought the walkers in this arena.

To reduce the range of the walkers' attacks, Caesar ordered his men to build a passage using stones and other materials.

If the zombies are fast enough, they can directly jump over the vehicles blocking the trees and rush off the cliff.

Those not participating in the battle entered the vehicles on either side of the camp; the doors were locked and normally the walkers couldn't open them.

As the walkers failed to appear and the moon climbed higher in the sky, the atmosphere in the camp grew increasingly tense.

Many people felt sleepy, and the fatigue also came over them after doing physical labor all afternoon.

Caesar did not call out to them, for they would simply fall back asleep after being startled awake.

Caesar tapped his fingers lightly on the handle of his hand axe, then suddenly opened his half-closed eyes, his gaze piercing as he looked into the deep forest.

It was late at night, and Caesar couldn't see much, but he could hear some faint sounds.

Sure enough, the next moment, the sound of countless pebbles hitting the empty can jingled loudly.

A pair of sleepy eyes were instantly awakened, and they hurriedly grabbed their weapons and stood up.

The person who woke up immediately called out to those around them.

Caesar yelled, "The walkers are attacking! Light the fire!"

Moor and Daryl, holding torches, hurried past the vehicles blocking the way in the woods.

Each vehicle had a torch soaked in gasoline, which was immediately ignited.

The flames flickered, illuminating a small area of ​​the woods, where twisted figures could be vaguely seen.

Daryl and Moore exchanged a glance, and Daryl said a few words before rushing forward.

"Survive."

The walkers had no tactics, no fear; their attention was temporarily drawn to the torches, and they pounced on the wrecked vehicles one by one.

It gripped the vehicle with its claws and climbed upwards.

Before they could even touch the torch, a crossbow bolt was fired, hitting one of the zombies squarely.

The zombie flipped over and fell into the horde of zombies.

The firing of that crossbow bolt was like a command horn, prompting several men with pistols and rifles to fire.

In an instant, flames erupted, bullets flew, and blood and flesh were mangled.

There weren't many people in the camp who could shoot, and even fewer who were good marksmen. Most of the bullets hit the zombies' bodies, but failed to hit any vital organs.

However, the noise generated by firearms is significant, and the sense of security they provide to the other people in the camp is unmatched by cold weapons.

Non-combatants in the vehicles on both sides peeked out from behind the reinforced windows, their eyes shining as they watched the crowd firing.

The shooting had little effect, but it was inspiring.

Glenn was among the people firing, and his marksmanship was arguably one of the worst.

The reloading action was also clumsy, often requiring several shots to kill a single zombie.

In contrast to him was Daryl, who, despite using a crossbow, was quite efficient at killing and did not waste a single bolt, achieving success with every shot.

After a few minutes, Caesar raised his hand to signal Daryl to stop firing.

Caesar understood that if they continued to expend resources like this, he didn't know if they could kill all the walkers, but the camp's ammunition would definitely be depleted.

"Ready for close combat!"

Caesar raised his arm and rallied the troops.

Daryl finished the first wave of battle, brushed past Mor, who grinned and looked surprisingly valiant in the firelight.

"You little brats, follow me!"

With a torch in one hand and a machete in the other, Mo'er shouted loudly, looking just like a bandit leader.

His influence was also quite good; the few people he led were all excitedly shouting and following Morchong.

The walkers, now without ranged attacks, climbed onto the roof of the vehicle and reached for the torches.

Suddenly, flames began to lick the clothes and flesh of the zombie's body.

The flames rose extremely quickly, igniting the surrounding zombies, who were standing hand in hand and foot to foot.

It turned out that the abandoned vehicles were coated with gasoline. Although the amount was not large, it was enough to cover a large number of zombies in front of them.

This also gave the flames the opportunity to burn quickly.

Even long-dead corpses will quickly turn black and charred when exposed to flames.

A line of zombies, their bodies ablaze with flames, their joints beginning to catalyze and their flesh beginning to atrophy, were unable to overtake the abandoned vehicles.

Moore and his men beat the drowning dog mercilessly, mocking him as they fought like villains.

"You little brat, try biting your dad! Come on, your dad's flesh smells delicious!"

"Come on, eat your dad. Hey, you actually want to eat him? I'll smash you to death..."

"Go to hell, go to hell, go to hell!"

"Hahaha, wife, I've avenged you!!!"

"..."

Perhaps because he had been running away and hadn't fought the zombies, his suppressed emotions were now being released in a frenzy.

Moore looked at the people around him, each one completely frenzied, wielding weapons like berserkers, frantically pounding on the zombies.

One or two of them were chopping the heads of the zombies in front of them into minced meat and still wouldn't stop, their eyes bloodshot.

Fortunately, the first group of zombies was weakened by the flames; otherwise, with this method of fighting, we would definitely have lost some of our men.

As Moore and his companions gained experience through the killings, they became more adept at their actions.

Seeing that the group of zombies was almost completely slaughtered, Caesar looked at Rip, who was standing in the shadow of the RV, and gave him a wink.

In the blink of an eye, Rip had vanished.

Caesar picked up his axe and loudly commanded, "Let the zombies in, then close the door and beat them!"

With the order given, Moore and the others ceased their fight with the walkers.

Moore ran to the edge of the road blocking the vehicles, tossed aside his torch and machete, and shouted to those around him, "Push together!"

With a roar, the men pulled together, stretching the thick, long rope.

Not only them, but Daryl and his men on the other side also pulled hard on the rope.

The middle section of the abandoned vehicle slowly opens, as if inviting someone into a trap.

The zombies don't care about any of that; their main strategy is recklessness—they just charge in headfirst!

Sure enough, the zombie rushed in and collapsed.

Beneath the pulled-out, dilapidated vehicle, there was first a tripwire, then a shallow pit, covered with various sharp barbs, such as broken branches and steel spikes.

The zombies lined up and rushed forward, eager to die.

Black blood flowed down, and the corpses piled up one on top of the other, gradually filling the shallow pit.

The zombies behind stepped over the corpses of those in front and attacked.

Daryl led his ranged attack team to the tops of the vehicles on both sides to ensure their safety before they could effectively deal damage.