Walking Dead: Unlock the Umbrella Corporation Hive Begins with Hunting Chapter 98 98: 98

When tens of thousands of Walkers poured out of the woods, rle Dixon realized for the first ti that the trap he had set might not be enough.

The corridor ford by the barbed-wire fences looked like a gray-white intestine stretching several hundred ters across the field. The entrance was wide, the exit narrow, with wooden stakes densely planted on both sides and wrapped in three layers of wire.

But those things didn't follow instructions.

They weren't an army. They wouldn't march neatly in a single-file line.

When they burst out of the forest, they spread in every direction like water spilling from a broken basin.

rle scratched his head and turned toward Private Shane beside him.

"Didn't you say tens of thousands of them would follow my route? Why the hell are most of them running outside the corridor?"

Private Shane's face stiffened as he hurriedly organized his thoughts.

Tens of thousands of Walkers weren't soldiers lining up for bread. The trees had already split them apart into scattered groups before they even reached the open ground. How could they possibly move in an orderly line?

rle stared at him.

Private Shane swallowed hard before answering.

"The woods scattered them apart. It's normal they aren't moving together yet. Once they reach open ground, they'll naturally converge, but obviously, the corridor wasn't long enough for that."

rle thought about it for a mont.

That actually made sense.

He stopped questioning him and turned back toward the minefield.

The first group of Walkers stepped onto the buried mines.

Boom!

Fire erupted from the ground as dirt, shrapnel, and severed limbs flew into the air. Several gray-white bodies were blasted backward, torn apart instantly.

The explosions echoed across the open field one after another like an endless string of giant firecrackers.

The Walkers outside the corridor heard the noise and collectively turned toward it, slowly shuffling in the direction of the blasts.

The barbed wire blocked them.

They crowded against the fencing, reaching through the gaps and snarling like spectators at a car crash while watching their companions get blown apart inside.

The explosions continued intermittently for nearly twenty minutes.

rle clicked his tongue, jumped off the ammo crate, and brushed the dirt from his hands.

"Must've killed a few thousand by now, right?"

Daryl raised his binoculars and looked ahead for several seconds.

"No. A lot of them just lost their legs. They're still crawling."

rle leaned over for a closer look.

Sure enough, the minefield was filled with half-destroyed Walkers dragging themselves across the scorched earth, their intestines trailing behind them as they carved bloody furrows into the dirt.

He looked away and shouted toward Snyder.

"Your turn. Let the professional handle it."

Snyder, a forr National Guard artilleryman, crouched on the ground and used a twig to calculate the range in the dirt.

rle had rushed the mortars and shells over from storage, but no one had bothered bringing asuring equipnt. Snyder felt like cursing.

He stood up, dusted off his knees, and walked toward the mortar line.

"Adjust elevation. Two mils left."

Several n crouched beside the mortars, adjusting the dials carefully.

"Ready."

"Maintain angle. Load."

The shell slid into the tube.

Thunk!

The mortar fired with a muffled roar, sending the shell arching through the air before it landed directly in the middle of the horde a hundred and fifty ters away.

The explosion kicked up a massive cloud of dirt.

Several Walkers were hurled into the air, their limbs scattering across the battlefield.

Snyder shook his head.

"Off target. One mil right."

The second shot landed perfectly.

Fire engulfed the center of the horde as the shockwave blasted outward, throwing nearby Walkers off their feet.

"Good. Hold that angle. Rapid fire."

Twenty mortar rounds scread into the battlefield in succession.

The explosions rged together into a deafening storm of fire and smoke. Crimson blasts blood endlessly within the horde like dark-red flowers.

Dirt and debris rained from the sky.

The Walker horde was torn apart piece by piece.

So were ripped apart by shrapnel, others thrown through the air by the shockwave, while many simply collapsed with shattered skulls.

Tens of thousands of Walkers were harvested like wheat beneath artillery fire.

In Haner County, survivors hid behind curtains, staring at the gray-white figures that had wandered their streets for the past eight months.

Suddenly, the Walkers stopped.

Their heads turned eastward in unison as though listening to sothing.

Then they began moving.

Not aimlessly wandering—but marching together in the sa direction.

A man cautiously peeked out from behind his curtain and rubbed his eyes.

He stepped outside and looked up and down the street.

No Walkers.

Not a single one.

He stood in the middle of the road, listening to the distant explosions rumbling from the east like rolling thunder.

"The army…"

His voice trembled before he suddenly shouted:

"The army is here!"

More survivors rushed out of their hos.

So were barefoot. So carried children. Others still gripped kitchen knives tightly in their hands.

They stared toward the northern sky glowing red from the artillery fire.

So cried.

So laughed.

So knelt on the street and crossed themselves.

"I knew it… I knew the governnt wouldn't abandon us…"

"Thank God… Thank God…"

A little girl peeked out from behind her mother and asked softly:

"Mommy… where did the monsters go?"

Her mother knelt down and hugged her tightly, tears falling into the child's hair.

"They're gone," she whispered.

"They're gone."

The explosions continued in the distance.

Each thunderous blast made the ground tremble slightly.

And with every explosion, the survivors felt a little safer.