I Have a Modern Weapon Gacha System in the Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 42: Heading to the Supermarket

The original squad, Adrian, Ryan, Jake, Noah, Mason, Cole, and Ethan were prepping up for their scavenging operation. The six operators were equipped now with a new weapons designed for close combat, the MP5 Heckler Koch submachine gun, compact and easy to handle inside tight spaces.

Magazines were seated.

Bolts were pulled and released. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Selectors tested.

Ryan gave his MP5 a quick inspection, then slung it across his chest. "Much better for indoors," he said.

Jake nodded, adjusting his grip on his own. "Less over-penetration. Cleaner in tight aisles."

Noah checked his spare magazines, tapping each one before sliding them into his vest. "And easier to control when things get crowded."

Mason racked his weapon once and let it settle. "As long as we don’t get surrounded."

Cole glanced at him. "Dude the warthog already cleared the AO, and we have MRAPs and it won’t be just us, there will be 20 more troops coming with us."

"Fair point," Mason shrugged.

They stood before the MRAP, it was the JLTV Oshkosh, its angular armor catching the morning light as the engine idled.

The vehicle sat high off the ground, thick tires planted firmly on the concrete. Reinforced doors. Mounted turret on top. Built for exactly this kind of operation.

Ryan walked up to it and placed a hand on the side panel. "This thing can take a hit," he said.

Jake glanced up at the turret. "And give one back."

One of the additional troops stepped forward and climbed up, taking position behind the mounted weapon. He checked the feed tray, then gave a thumbs-up.

"Gun’s up," he said.

Behind them, another MRAP lined up, followed by an FMTV truck that would handle the cargo. Its rear bed was empty, ready to be filled.

Ethan moved toward the rear door of the first MRAP and pulled it open.

"Load up."

No hesitation.

They climbed in one by one.

Ryan first, then Jake, Noah, Mason, Cole, and Ethan. Adrian stepped in last and pulled the door shut behind him.

The engine growled louder.

Over the comms, Ryan’s voice came through.

"Convoy, this is Lead. All units report."

A second passed.

"Two, ready."

"Three, ready."

"Logistics, ready."

Ryan nodded once.

"Move out."

The MRAP lurched forward, rolling out of the base gates.

Ahead, the road stretched toward the supermarket.

Three kilometers. It may not be far but there are already zombies in the first kilometer.

"Contact front," the gunner called from the turret.

Ryan didn’t hesitate.

"Keep moving."

The MRAP didn’t slow.

The driver pushed forward, the heavy vehicle rolling straight through the first group. The impact was blunt and direct. Bodies were thrown aside or dragged under the wheels as the convoy pushed through.

The turret above opened up.

Short controlled bursts.

The mounted gun cut down the ones that moved too close to the sides, keeping the path clear.

Inside, Adrian held onto the side handle as the vehicle bounced over debris.

Jake leaned slightly toward the small armored window. "More ahead."

He wasn’t wrong.

The road further down had more movement now.

The noise had carried.

Zombies were stepping out from between buildings, from alleys, from behind stalled cars.

Ryan keyed his radio.

"Maintain speed. Do not stop. Gunners, keep the path clear."

"Copy."

The second MRAP followed close behind, its own gunner engaging targets that slipped past the lead vehicle.

Behind them, the FMTV kept its distance, staying within the protection of the two armored vehicles.

The convoy pushed forward.

The gunner above kept firing in short bursts, controlled, disciplined. Every squeeze of the trigger was measured, cutting down targets that moved too close to the vehicle or drifted into the convoy’s path. Spent casings rattled across the turret housing as the weapon cycled.

Inside, the noise came through the hull as dull thuds and vibrations.

Adrian kept one hand on the grab handle, the other resting on his MP5. He didn’t speak. He watched.

Ryan leaned slightly toward the front, eyes fixed ahead. "Driver, don’t let them bunch up in front of us."

"Copy," the driver answered.

The engine pushed harder.

The MRAP accelerated, smashing through another cluster that tried to form a loose barrier across the road. Bodies hit the front armor and slid off to the sides, some dragged briefly before disappearing under the wheels.

Jake shifted in his seat, checking the window again. "Left side alley."

The gunner didn’t wait.

He pivoted the mounted weapon and fired a short burst into the opening. Figures that had just begun to step out were cut down before they could even fully enter the street.

"Clear left."

Noah checked the opposite side. "Right’s moving too."

"Engage," Ryan said.

The second MRAP’s gunner opened up this time, covering the right flank.

The convoy stayed in motion.

By the time they crossed into the second kilometer, the density started to drop.

The earlier passes of the A-10 had done their work.

There were still infected, but fewer now. More scattered. Less organized.

"Contact thinning," the gunner reported.

Ryan nodded once. "Keep scanning."

They pushed through the last stretch of road.

Abandoned cars became more frequent. Some burned out. Others left at angles that forced the driver to weave slightly, but the MRAP handled it without slowing too much.

Then the supermarket came into view.

"Visual on objective," Jake said.

The building stood ahead, three stories, wide frontage facing the road.

"Damn, the Warthog really had thrashed this place," Jake said as he looked over the parking lot.

Crater marks were scattered across the asphalt where the rockets had hit. Several cars were flipped or torn open, their frames twisted and blackened. The glass façade of the supermarket was gone, replaced by jagged edges and debris spread across the entrance.

Bodies covered the ground.

Most weren’t moving.

Some still twitched.

Ryan leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the area. "Don’t assume they’re all down."

"Copy," Noah replied.

The MRAP slowed as it rolled into the parking lot, tires crunching over broken glass and debris. The second MRAP moved in behind them, taking a staggered position to cover the rear and right side. The FMTV stopped further back, angled toward the loading bay.

"Hold here," Ryan said.

The vehicle came to a full stop.

"Dismount."