Panic, terror, trepidation, dread, and any other synonym for fear perfectly described Weiss's feelings at this moment. She knew they had a war to win, and if one was to win a war against zombies of her level then they needed every advantage they could get.
"Hmm, do you think I should paint kitty faces on these propane bombs? Wait, not cats! Corgi's, the true face of fear!" But this? How?! Why?! When did Ruby learn to make bombs?! Was Weiss simply ignorant and it was common knowledge or was Ruby a terrorist at one point?!
"Okay, we got three propane bombs ready! Now, which cars do I need to rig to explode again?" If there was anything to be glad for, it was that Ruby didn't have any bombs on her when they first met.
'Might be best not to dwell on it,' Weiss thought to herself, examining the rapier Yang had handed to her earlier. After learning of Adam the four girls had decided to hide out at the nearest cul de sac. It was small, the zombies were easy to take care of, and each house had plenty discarded items that they could use to their advantage, such as the rapier in Weiss's hands and the three propane tanks sitting on Ruby's new work desk.
Sadly, they didn't find much else in traditional weaponry. The rapier was simply a collector's item, though it was sharp enough that with enough force it could probably stab through a zombie's brain. The guns they did find were...not too useful. There was but one bullet for the bolt action rifle and the revolver they did find had only three bullets.
Ruby had taken the rifle, apparently, she was planning to jury rig something up with it, so that left the revolver to Weiss.
'Three rounds,' Weiss counted, sheathing her rapier in favor of loading her new gun. 'I've never even used a gun before.' But alas, she had little choice. Even if she didn't have proper training she was sure she could get a shot off at point-blank range which would hopefully either kill them or stun them long enough for a proper stab through the brain.
"Don't worry, Weiss! Hopefully, my bombs will take care of them before they get anywhere near you!" Ruby assured her earlier, giggling mad over the blueprints for her bombs.
"And if they don't, I still have one trick up my sleeve," Yang smiled coyly as she cleaned her shotgun.
'I wonder what she meant by that?' Weiss knew of everyone's supplies, so was Yang rigging something up like Ruby was? And was it safe to not tell anyone what it was? What if Weiss or Blake accidentally triggered something causing whatever trap Yang had set up to go off prematurely?
'Or maybe she's just full of herself, it's hard to tell with Yang.' And so Weiss chose simply not to dwell on it. Ruby's bombs would hopefully take care of everything, and if not? She was sure the four of them could take care of any stragglers that survived.
Or so she told herself, doing her best to ignore the lingering sense of doubt in the back of her mind.
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They were marvelous, his zombies. They weren't the undead of average humans who worked retail or some shitty office job, but of the best athletes he could find, the strongest of fighters, the most disciplined of soldiers, and his personal favorite…
The sickest of murderers.
"Mmmaster Aaadammm."
"Yes, my Lieutenant." The Lieutenant, his most prized zombie. He was the only one to retain his will, what made him...well, it would be wrong to call a man like him a human. When he first met The Lieutenant he thought of the man as a worthy addition to his collection and was prepared for a hard fought battle, but it wasn't to be. He begged Adam for his power, to be converted into his puppet so that he may kill to his heart's content without worry of his body failing, of being unable to finish his game.
And so Adam converted the man, caring not if he retained his mind or not, either way, it would be childs play to manipulate him to do as he wished.
Though he did prefer the former. A zombie of human intelligence, even a mad one, was far more powerful an ally than the numerous, addled brained zombies one would typically find on the street.
"I...I can smell her. The stray…I-"
"Reign it in, Lieutenant, you are not to kill her," Adam said soothingly, earning a whine from The Lieutenant, his breathing ragged as stroked his chainsaw, as if it were some therapy dog.
"H-herrr legssss…"
"Of course," Adam chuckled, shaking his head at his fidgeting warrior. "You may remove her legs, after all, she must be...disciplined for leaving me."
"Gah, thank you! Thank you!" he sang as he bobbed his head up and down in excitement.
"Before that, you must hunt," Adam said as he turned his back to his subordinate. "If you find an inferior being, leave nothing behind. But, if you are to see anything of value in them…"
"Yesss, of course, Mmmaster Adammm, Allll who are worthy of you shall be...converted," The Lieutenant bowed, scurrying away from his master to gather their horde.
Adam returned to his thoughts, to his ever-growing army. It was small, fifteen counting himself, but soon he would convert Blake. She would see things his way, how the human race needed to be exterminated for there to be peace. How he should rule so their society could be free from corruption.
"Soon my fifteen will become sixteen, and when she has converted we will double our efforts. Sixteen will become thirty-two. Thirty-two to sixty-four. No survivors will escape our grasp, and any efforts to rebuild society into the crippling, prejudice pig stye it once was will be met with fire and fury! And then…" he stared off into the night sky, the moon shining down on him as he envisioned the face of his beloved. "There will be peace."
There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Adam would find her, and whether she liked it or not, she would kneel.
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I've been so tired lately. I really wanted this to be the last chapter leading into the epilogue, but I don't know when I'll be good to work on this again so I'm cutting the chapter. Right now chapter 8 is at 1669 words, hoping it will at least be 3000. The biggest reason I'm ending this soon is that I don't really know what else I want to do with this and the longer I make this the more likely I'm going to abandon it (I'm no good with long stories).
