RTS System in the Apocalypse-Chapter 34: Road Clearance

Six days passed after the incident in the maintenance room. The soldiers marched along a low wooden wall, entrenching the first two apartment buildings.

A group of survivors gathered at a spot. The leader was a middle-aged man, the orange hard hat blocking the sun’s rays on his face. His eyes scanned the wall section in front of him, checking for any deformities.

"I heard the rations today have been reduced, again." One of the survivors whispered.

"Yeah, food has been going down recently. One of the soldiers said they might explore the urban fringe soon."

"That area has a lot of zombies, right?"

"Yeah, I hope they don’t die there."

"Shhh, keep your mouth shut. Do you want to get beaten by those soldiers? If they hear you, you’ll be put in detention!"

Another survivor pressed someone’s mouth and warned.

The recent strict lockdowns and curfew scared them. Grabbing tools from the maintenance room required a pair or two of soldiers watching over.

The number of patrols has also increased, tightening their freedom to move around.

The highway had also seen more activity, pairs of people wearing black stealth fatigues passing through the large makeshift wooden gate now and then.

Despite these abrupt changes, nobody complained. The soldiers had done their jobs, and everyone else felt safer no less than before.

At that moment, loud footsteps resounded from the entrance of the first apartment building.

Dmitri and Adrian led the group. Behind them were four army soldiers, eight conscripts, and a figure that surprised the onlooking survivors.

"Isn’t that Roger, the truck driver?"

The man stood at the center of the group, brows furrowed hearing their talks. He didn’t plan for this, but Hans’s interest on his mechanic abilities and the task today left him no room for negotiation.

To reach the urban fringe on foot would delay Hans’s progress by weeks. The armored SUV was a necessity, both for troop and cargo transportation.

Road clearing was the only way. To push the cars aside or off the road, Hans needed someone who was good at checking car conditions.

Dmitri and Adrian had the knowledge, but Roger had the experience. Having him join the squad was to also recognize his identity as a survivor.

The recent events had pulled tension between the survivors and Hans, the latter hoping that this would ease a few of that.

"Let’s go."

Dmitri ignored the chatter from the survivors and led the team out of the apartment complex.

The road ahead stretched for nearly a hundred meters, covered in dust and scattered litter. The barren earth brimmed with dried trees and brittle stems. Any trace of life has been long gone from what had been a small, thriving ecosystem.

Their boots soon stepped on the asphalt road. Dmitri and Adrian scowled, noses twitching under the stench of gas and oil mixed in the air.

"Check this car first." Dmitri pointed at the compact SUV diagonally blocking the road.

Adrian, Dmitri, and Roger approached it, scanning the scarred body. Adrian popped the hood, while Roger held it up, revealing a mess of wires and rusting metal parts.

"Think we can start this car?" Adrian asked, pulling out the dipstick. "That’s some low oil there."

"The front wheels are gone," Roger frowned, "And this battery looks battered. Pushing it aside is the only way."

"We push then." Dmitri didn’t bother to argue and called over the Army Soldiers and the Conscripts.

"This is going to be noisy." Ryan warned, placing his hands on the hot metal frame of the car.

"Don’t you worry, we’ll cover you." Adrian winked, grinning under the mask, "Just do your best."

"1, 2, 3... push!"

The SUV’s body scraped along the asphalt road, sparks flying low. The army soldiers and conscripts gritted their teeth, muscles bulging in their arms.

One conscript slipped and fell on an oil-slicked section of the road. The team lost momentum, cursing their bad luck.

With another brace, they slowly pushed the heavy car aside. The left side of the vehicle slid off the road, tilting a few degrees lower.

"Stop, that should be enough." Dmitri ordered. He rummaged in the interior, finding nothing but rotting pieces of food and an empty glove compartment.

The soldiers gathered on the sides, taking deep breaths and wiping the sweat away.

Then came the next car—a sedan, its airbags blown and steering wheel locked. The battery was no good as well, forcing the soldiers to push it aside once again.

Dmitri found a silver necklace and watch stored inside the glove compartment, storing them inside his tactical pack.

After pushing two more cars aside, the sun had hit its peak. Sweat started to burn the skin with the asphalt road warping under the heat.

"Leave. It’s too hot."

Dmitri looked at the sky, squinting his eyes. The clouds were ever present yet hadn’t provided enough cover to them.

He estimated that should it have rained, the effort to push these cars aside would have lessened. But he was not certain of this outcome.

The apocalypse had been devastating on the ecosystem of Planet Aurelia. Should it remain, it would not be as normal as it was before.

His thoughts spurred until they returned to the apartment complex and took shade inside the building.

Dmitri and Adrian moved faster than them, evading the scrutiny of the onlookers stationed at the first floor. However, the rest were not spared.

"Your backs are soaked wet. Did you enter a pool or something?" joked one of the army soldiers.

"Try pushing a car off the road. I bet you would say the same thing." the army soldier who accompanied Dmitri snorted.

A few bouts of arguments rang on the first floor, gathering the attention of the survivors and the other soldiers who were about to take a break.

The survivors wanted to chant "Fight! Fight! Fight!" but the murderous aura surrounding those soldiers who were drenched in sweat dissipated their courage to do so. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Who would want to mess with that?

Still, those who were interested dropped by, leaving once they saw that no punches and kicks would be thrown today.

The soldiers understood the punishment behind it, while the survivors thought that these soldiers were a little too disciplined and orderly.

Even Marco was dumbfounded about the two groups disbanding in the middle of their argument. To him, soldiers were a little rowdy—perverts who only knew how to cause trouble to themselves, their superiors, and everyone else around them.

Their Commander must have something to do with this. I have underestimated that man.

He thought, carefully placing his lunch at the desk. His ears caught wind of gossips about the purpose of Dmitri and his squad’s mission, why was Roger a part of it, and how come they returned all battered and sweaty.

Marco’s brows furrowed at the mention of Roger, having no expectations that that guy would be chosen to accompany those soldiers on a mission.

I have nothing to do with it. Let’s focus on the inventories instead.

He shook his head, absent-mindedly plunging his fork into the meat and munching on it. He savored the excellent taste and lost track of time.

Just as he was enjoying a short life of paradise, the thumping of boots pulled him out from his fantasy. Marco saw Dmitri and his squad again, continuing their mission in the middle of the day.

They returned at the place where they had stopped, braving the searing heat while wearing layers of clothing underneath.

Two army soldiers had their packs full of water, afraid that their refreshing canteen wouldn’t be enough to handle dehydration.

"A pickup truck? Good find." Dmitri approached, eyeing the covered cargo bed with interest. He pulled out his knife and carefully tore the ropes that held the cover.

A sudden hot wind blew the cover aside and revealed several plastic bags filled with food, water, and other necessities.

Adrian and Dmitri internally celebrated, finally encountering a good haul after a fruitless morning start.

"You all, come pick these up and return it to the base." Dmitri gestured. The soldiers, spotting the great haul, moved with enthusiasm.

It didn’t take long before the plastic bags were reduced to none, leaving the pickup truck’s cargo bed empty.

"Roger, how’s the battery?" Dmitri asked.

"Good, sir. Car’s fluids look fine." Roger replied, "This one’s an old model. You can hotwire it if you wanted."

"I’ll handle it." Adrian rubbed his hands together and hurried to the driver’s side.

He slid into the seat, grabbed the gear stick, and wiggled it around, finding it loose. The transmission was in neutral.

"All’s set," he muttered, "Now for the fun part."

He peeled back the panel and worked the exposed wires. A second passed, then the engine hummed, steadily settling into a steady hum.

The sound drew the quiet cheers from the soldiers, feeling a little emotional after all the hard work they had done.

Adrian leaned out the window, flashing a grin at Dmitri waiting off to the side.

"Where to now?"

"Drive it aside." Dmitri answered, sulky about Adrian’s cheekiness, "Leave this pickup truck here and mark it."

"Okay, as you command!" Adrian mimicked the salutations toward Hans and pulled back to the driver’s seat. He depressed the clutch, switched to first gear, and steered the car to the right.

His hands and feet coordinated with precision, styling across everyone with a parallel parking maneuver.

Dmitri indifferently stared at the debacle, unimpressed by Adrian’s car handling. Nevertheless, he still got the job done, albeit showered in the exhibition of a very simple driving skill.

"If you’re done having fun, you can move this next car now."