Walking Dead: Unlock the Umbrella Corporation Hive Begins with Hunting Chapter 113 113: 113

A distant rumble echoed through the air, growing louder with every passing second.

It wasn't thunder.

It was the sound of rotors.

A lot of rotors.

Crawford looked up and squinted at the sky.

Those helicopters had flown over earlier, and now they were returning.

Surely they weren't coming here... right?

He frowned.

Black dots appeared on the horizon.

One.

Two.

Three.

Then ten.

Ten Osprey aircraft flew in a wedge formation, sweeping past the town's clock tower. The powerful rotor wash sent dead leaves swirling through the square.

Crawford's face paled.

He turned to his adjutant.

"Shoot them down!"

The adjutant stared at the approaching aircraft, his own face turning pale.

Missiles hung beneath their wings.

A machine gun was mounted beneath each nose.

One burst of fire would erase everyone in the square.

"Sir... those are ard aircraft. We can't shoot them down."

His voice trembled.

Crawford slapped him across the face.

"Then make them land! I want to see who dares to run wild in my territory!"

The Ospreys ignored him.

They hovered above the square, their rotors rattling banners and shaking windows.

Then the side doors slid open.

Black ropes dropped from the aircraft.

Figures in black leather coats descended one after another, moving as swiftly as shadows.

Each wore a gas mask with dark lenses that concealed their eyes.

Red-and-white Umbrella logos were painted on both sides of their helts.

AUG assault rifles hung across their chests, muzzles pointed downward.

Everyone knew those rifles could be raised and fired in a fraction of a second.

The soldiers weren't parachuting.

They were rappelling.

A few ters above the ground, they activated their descent devices.

Their speed slowed instantly.

Their boots touched the ground lightly.

They released their hooks.

The ropes automatically retracted back into the aircraft.

On the rooftops, Crawford's sentries had already been subdued.

Their weapons had been kicked aside.

Their faces were pressed against the roofing material.

Rags had been stuffed into their mouths to keep them quiet.

More soldiers continued descending.

Fifty.

One hundred.

One hundred and fifty.

They spread across the square in a fan-shaped formation, surrounding everyone present.

Their rifles pointed directly at Crawford's n.

Panic spread imdiately.

So dropped their weapons and crouched on the ground with their hands over their heads.

Others hesitated.

They were quickly introduced to rifle butts.

One man lost a tooth and collapsed to the pavent.

Crawford remained standing alone in the center of the square like a stake driven into stone.

He watched his n surrender one row at a ti.

He watched the civilians who once feared him now smiling openly from the sidelines.

He watched the black-clad soldiers approach at an unhurried pace.

Boots clicked against the stone pavent.

Step by step.

Crawford reached for the pistol at his waist.

Before his fingers could touch the grip—

CRACK!

A rifle butt smashed into his cheekbone.

Pain exploded through his skull.

His vision darkened.

He staggered backward.

Another blow slamd into his stomach.

Acid surged into his throat.

The tallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

He dropped to one knee.

Before he could stand, soone grabbed a fistful of his hair.

Not pulled.

Lifted.

As if he weighed nothing.

He was dragged across the square.

His knees scraped against the stone pavent.

His pants tore apart.

Blood streaked the ground behind him.

"Let go!"

"Do you know who I am?!"

"I'm Crawford Obersen!"

"This is my territory!"

Nobody responded.

He was dragged to the fountain and thrown onto the ground like a sack of garbage.

Several of his officers were dumped beside him.

Most were bleeding.

A few were crying.

Nearby, a black-clad soldier crouched beside the fountain.

A palm-sized display screen was attached to his wrist.

He tapped it several tis before signaling his teammates.

A silver-gray equipnt case was carried forward.

A red-and-white Umbrella logo was printed on its lid.

The case opened.

Inside were several circular devices the size of a human palm.

Each had serrated edges and magnetic backs.

The soldiers attached them to the fountain's stone structure.

Red indicator lights began flashing.

Everyone stepped back.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The beeping accelerated.

Then—

BOOM!

The fountain shattered.

Not blasted apart.

Shattered.

Stone slabs collapsed inward as if the ground itself had given way.

Dust filled the air.

When it settled, a dark square opening was revealed beneath the fountain.

tal stairs descended into the darkness.

Lights illuminated the path every few ters.

Far below lay a wide tunnel.

Double railway tracks stretched into the distance.

The steel rails glead beneath the lights.

Red-and-white markings lined the tunnel walls, disappearing into the darkness.

"The Savannah Transit Point has been located and connected."

The soldier with the wrist display raised a radio.

"Boss, local forces have been secured."

Inside the CDC, on the third floor, Wu Fan leaned back in his chair.

A cigarette rested between his fingers.

The ash had grown long but remained untouched.

He listened to the report and nodded.

"Accept local survivors."

"Those who wish to stay can stay."

"Those who don't wish to join us should be given food and water before being allowed to leave."

He paused.

"As for hostile elents..."

A cold smile appeared on his face.

"Those who refuse to cooperate can be sent to the Hive's fourth floor to contribute to all mankind."

"Edwin says we're short on test subjects."

"Bring back as many alive as possible."

"Understood."

The radio transmission ended.

Wu Fan crushed his cigarette in the ashtray.

Another Umbrella transit station had been recovered.

The gray marker on the map was now illuminated.

He stood and walked toward a large map of Georgia hanging on the wall.

Using a red marker, he circled Savannah.

A coastal city.

A major port.

And potentially hundreds of abandoned ships.

If even a fraction of them remained operational, they could still be useful.

When the apocalypse began, many people probably abandoned their vessels in panic before they ever had the chance to leave port.

Wu Fan shook his head and returned to his desk.

First, Savannah needed to be secured.

Then the transit station could be fully utilized.

Only after that could they begin expanding toward the sea.

Back in the square, the black-clad soldiers organized the evacuation of civilians.

Lines were ford.

Nas were recorded.

Passengers were assigned to vehicles.

The process was slow but efficient.

Kenny stood among the crowd, staring at the soldiers with wide eyes.

"What kind of company is this?"

Omid adjusted his glasses and looked at the logos painted on the aircraft overhead.

"Umbrella Corporation."

He paused thoughtfully.

"I feel like I've heard that na before."

Beside them, Clentine held Lee's hand and looked up.

"Lee, are we going with them?"

Lee looked down at her.

For a mont, he remained silent.

Then he shook his head.

"No."

"We'll find your parents first."

"After that, we'll go."

He tightened his grip on her hand.

Together, they followed the crowd for a short distance before quietly breaking away.

Their destination remained the sa.

The resort.

The place where Clentine still hoped her parents might be waiting.