Although he was fairly certain the aircraft had been prepped for a getaway—meaning the fuel tank was likely full—he wasn’t about to take any chances. The last thing he wanted was to discover a problem mid-flight when it was already too late to do anything about it. A malfunction at high altitude could spell disaster, and he wasn’t willing to gamble with their lives.
"Yes, sir! We’re on it!"
Group 6 sprang into action, momentarily leaving the civilians behind as they moved to inspect the chopper for any potential issues. However, the moment they stepped inside, they were immediately hit with the overwhelming stench of rot.
Their faces contorted in disgust as they gagged, eyes watering as they fought the urge to vomit on the spot. Instinctively, they turned to glare at Sparrow—only to find him watching them with a smug, teasing smile.
"That bastard knew!" one of them cursed internally. "He knew how bad it smelled in here and didn’t even warn us! I bet he was just waiting for us to suffer the same way he did so he wouldn’t be the only victim!"
Despite their silent complaints, they said nothing aloud. They had been with Sparrow long enough to recognize when he was messing with them. Gritting their teeth, they sucked in deep breaths of fresh air before stepping inside to complete their task.
The sight inside wasn’t any better. The chopper’s interior was littered with corpses—zombies with caved-in skulls, black blood pooling around them, brain matter smeared across the seats. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Sparrow had just finished cleaning house.
While Sparrow rested against a stack of crates near the helipad, Group 6 worked efficiently to clear the chopper of zombie carcasses. The civilians initially tried to help, but the moment they stepped inside, they became a gagging, vomiting mess—completely useless and more of a hindrance than anything else.
Seeing this, Sparrow and the Winters’ men didn’t bother waiting for them to adjust to the stench. Time was of the essence, and they couldn’t afford delays. Without hesitation, they took over, hauling out the rotting bodies before turning their attention to checking the chopper’s monitors and inspecting the entire cockpit for any issues.
Once the checks were complete, everyone prepared to leave. Sparrow, feeling slightly better, pushed himself up from where he had been resting.
ROAR!
A deafening, bone-rattling roar echoed across the helipad, freezing everyone in place. The civilians went pale.
"It followed us here!" someone gasped in horror, their voice nearly breaking into a scream.
Sparrow’s sharp gaze snapped toward the source of the sound. Beyond the fence, not far from where they stood, the mutated tiger emerged—battered, blood-soaked, and barely clinging to life. Its eyes, oozing thick streams of blood, glowed with a terrifying, unrelenting fury.
"Fuck! Everyone, get inside the chopper, now!" Sparrow barked, his voice cutting through the rising panic.
The mutated tiger’s roar hadn’t just shaken them—it had also drawn the attention of the zombies trapped within the bunker. A thunderous banging erupted from the bunker’s doors, a relentless, eerie rhythm that felt like a fist pounding against their chests. The sound alone confirmed their worst fear—there were no survivors inside. Every last person had turned. freewebnøvel.com
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