Hi everyone. I have a bit of a hard time writing, that's why i will be posting a new chapter once a week. I'm writing this fanfiction mainly as a hobby and to improve as a writer. I have no intention of abandoning the story, so don't worry about that.
With all that said, i hope you enjoy this chapter as well.
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The stairwell was dim, with only a faint strip of light filtered down from the rooftop above, cutting across the concrete walls and metal railings in narrow angles. The air felt cooler and enclosed, carrying the lingering scent of rot and dust.
The three Rangers held position on the landing just below the rooftop access.
Their weapons stayed at a low-ready, angled down but never out of reach.
Corporal Rayes had taken up position closest to the barricaded door. He leaned back against the wall beside it, one shoulder resting against the concrete, head slightly turned as if he could somehow hear through it better that way. His weapon hung comfortably in his hands.
A few steps from him, Private Cole stood near the railing, keeping an eye on the lower flight of stairs. He shifted his stance every now and then, more out of habit than discomfort.
Across from him, Private Wyatt covered the opposite side, posture loose but attentive, occasionally glancing between Cole and Rayes before returning his focus to the shadows lining the stairwell. His and Cole's flashlights cut through the darkness, lighting the flight of stairs below.
For a while, nothing happened.
But as time passed, they began hearing something from outside. It was music.
It filtered in through the structure in a warped, uneven way, like it was struggling to find its way through concrete and empty floors.
🎶 I'm on the Highway to Hell… 🎶
Wyatt let out a quiet breath, something close to a restrained chuckle as he tilted his head slightly.
"They actually went with that," he murmured, more to fill the silence than anything else.
Cole didn't look over, but there was a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"It fits," he said under his breath. "Personally, I like it."
Rayes shifted his weight lightly against the wall, eyes still on the door beside him.
"If I knew, I would have given some suggestions from my playlist," he added with a small chuckle.
Wyatt exhaled slowly, the faint humor fading as he listened to the song echo and distort through the building.
"Yeah," he muttered. "Not exactly subtle, though."
"No need to be," Cole replied. "Whole point is to draw in as many walkers as possible."
The music lingered for a few more moments, drifting in and out, before gradually starting to fade as the drones moved further away.
With it gone, the silence began to settle back in the stairwell.
After a few moments, Rayes leaned in and placed his ear on the door. As he listened, his expression shifted slightly.
There it is.
He raised a hand subtly, signaling the others.
The noise came again from behind the door, louder this time, like something heavy was being dragged to the side.
Rayes, still listening, lowered his voice to a near whisper.
"I was right," he murmured. "We've got survivors in there."
Cole gave a small nod without taking his eyes off the door. "Yeah… it's something that they lasted this long."
Another scrape followed, accompanied by a dull thud.
Wyatt shifted his stance just a little, adjusting his grip. "Sounds like they finally decided to come out."
"Or at least check what's going on," Cole added quietly.
From behind the door, the muffled movement continued. It wasn't frantic or panicked. From the sound of it, they were moving carefully.
Rayes exhaled slowly, his tone staying low. "The music got their attention."
Wyatt glanced briefly toward him. "Hard not to, with everything going on outside."
There was another pause.
Then they could hear something heavy being moved aside.
Rayes' expression tightened slightly.
"They're pulling the barricade," he said.
Cole adjusted his footing, bracing just a little more as he kept his weapon angled downward.
"I highly doubt they know that we're here," Wyatt muttered.
"Yeah. Let's not spook them," Cole added under his breath.
Rayes gave a nod in agreement and lowered his voice even further, glancing between the two. "Easier said than done. They've been locked in there for weeks," Rayes continued. "And the last thing we need is them panicking the second that door opens."
Cole nodded once. "So… what's the plan?"
It was Wyatt who answered the question. "We take the initiative. I say we knock on the door."
Both Rayes and Cole looked at him.
"Are you serious right now?" Cole asked.
"Hey, if you have a better idea, it's more than welcome."
There was another muffled scrape coming from behind the door, telling them that the barricade was almost clear.
"We'll knock," said Rayes. "It's better than giving them a heart attack."
Stopping just short of the door, Rayes lifted a hand and knocked. It was firm enough to be heard, but not aggressive.
The sound echoed through the stairwell and faded.
For a moment, there was no response.
Then, after a moment of silence, a voice came through the door. It had an uncertain, almost unbelieving tone.
"Hello?… Who's there?"
Wyatt let out the faintest breath, something almost like a restrained chuckle as he glanced briefly toward Cole before looking back down.
Rayes didn't raise his voice, but there was a steadiness to it when he answered.
"Army Rangers," he said, calm and clear. He paused just a fraction, then added, with a hint of a dry edge, "Open up."
•••
The last piece of furniture was dragged aside with a slow, grating scrape, before finally settling out of the way.
And like that, the barricade was gone.
For a moment, no one moved.
They looked at door, which was fully exposed now. The barricade that blocked the door was the only thing that made them feel safe from the horror that was waiting outside. Now with it gone, they felt anxious, fearing what they'll find out there.
Christina adjusted her grip on the flare gun, her eyes fixed on the handle as if expecting it to turn on its own.
"That's it…" Derek muttered.
Karen didn't step closer. If anything, she leaned back slightly, her arms crossing tightly. "We can't just open it," she said quickly. "We said we'd be careful."
"We are being careful," Elena replied, though her voice carried uncertainty. "That's the whole point of clearing it slowly."
Derek exhaled, running a hand over his face before looking toward the others. "We go up, signal them, and that's it. That's the plan, right?"
No one disagreed.
Christina nodded faintly. "We just need to get to the roof. If they're still there, they'll see the flare."
"And if they're not?" Karen asked.
No one answered that.
Mike stood off to the side, his attention still fixed on the door. His posture remained tense, controlled, the memory of the stairwell still too fresh to ignore.
"We can't assume it's clear out there," he said quietly. "We need to check first."
Derek glanced at him. "How?"
"Slowly," Mike replied. "We open it just enough to see."
Karen let out a short breath, shaking her head. "And if something's out there?"
Mike didn't hesitate. "Then we close it. Fast."
That didn't reassure anyone as much as he probably intended.
Silence settled again, heavier this time but not with just fear, but anticipat as well.
Christina shifted slightly, tightening her grip on the flare gun. "We don't have time to argue this forever," she said. "If those soldiers leave—"
"They won't even know we're here," Elena finished.
That was what pushed them forward.
The fear of missing the only chance they might get to be saved.
Derek stepped closer to the door, though he didn't reach for it yet. "Alright… we open it just enough to check. Then we move up. Straight to the roof."
Karen didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue further.
Mike's eyes narrowed slightly. "They weren't quiet before," he said. "If anything was still out there, we'd hear it."
That gave them just enough reassurance to hesitate less.
Derek shifted his weight forward, his hand reaching for the door's handle.
But as he was about to touch the handle, he froze when he heard knocking from the other side of the door.
And he wasn't the only one, everyone inside the room froze, processing what they just heard.
The knocking cut through the silence cleanly.
No one spoke. No one moved.
Karen's head snapped toward the door. "What was that?"
"I—" Elena started, then stopped.
The echo faded.
And the realization settled in.
"That wasn't…" Derek said quietly, but didn't finish the sentence.
The knocking came again.
Christina felt her heartbeat spike as her grip tightened around the flare gun. Her eyes flicked toward Mike, then back to the door.
No one stepped forward.
No one wanted to be the one to answer.
But they all knew they couldn't ignore it.
"Hello?…" The voice came out hesitant, almost disbelieving.
It took Christina a second to realize it had been her.
"…Who's there?"
The question hung in the air, fragile and heavy at the same time.
For a moment, there was no response.
Then a voice came through the door, clear and calm.
"Army Rangers... Open up."
No one moved. They just stared at each other.
Derek blinked, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief. "Did he just say—"
"The army?" Elena whispered, almost afraid to say it out loud.
Karen shook her head immediately, though her voice lacked conviction. "No… no, that's—"
"That's exactly what we were going up there for," Derek cut in, his tone sharper now. "To find them."
Christina's eyes remained locked on the door. "They found us first…"
"How? How could they have known?" Mike said quietly.
He stepped a little closer to the door now, his posture still cautious, but no longer holding back as much.
"We need to open the door," he continued.
As he said that, they could begin hearing music again coming from outside.
One of the people who had helped move the furniture exhaled slowly, his voice quiet and steady. "Then this is it. We'll finally be out of here."
The rescue they had been waiting for was finally here.
Derek let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, some of the tension in his shoulders easing, but not disappearing.
"We can finally leave this place." Christina said happily.
Mike reached for the handle.
"Then we shouldn't make them wait any longer," he said.
Mike's hand tightened slightly around the handle, and after a moment of hesitation he turned it.
The latch clicked.
He pulled the door open slowly, the light from the room spilling into the stairwell, cutting into the darkness and stretching across the concrete wall's, floor and metal railings.
And in front of the door stood three figures cladded in riot gear, partially obscured by shadow, their silhouettes defined by the light behind him.
For a moment, no one spoke.
The survivors stared at the three soldiers.
Corporal Rayes stood at the front, his gaze moving briefly over Mike, then past him into the room, taking in the number of people behind him.
"Easy," he said, his tone calm and measured. "Everything is going to be okay."
The tension in Mike's shoulders shifted.
"You're… actually Army?" Derek asked from behind him, disbelief still clear in his voice.
Private Wyatt let out a faint breath, something close to a restrained chuckle. "Last time I checked."
Rayes shot him a brief glance, then looked back at the group.
"You're safe," he said. "We've got the rooftop secured."
Christina stepped forward slightly, the flare gun still in her hands, though her grip had loosened without her noticing. "There are more of you?" she asked.
"Yeah," Cole answered. "On the rooftop."
Derek let out a short, disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his head. "We were literally about to go up there."
Wyatt nodded once. "It seems we saved you the trip."
Karen still lingered further back, her eyes moving between the soldiers, her expression cautious, not fully convinced yet. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough," Rayes replied. "We've got units operating in the area."
Mike finally stepped back, opening the door wider, so they could get in.
Rayes and Wyatt stepped inside. Behind them, Cole remained in the stairwell, holding position near the landing, his attention shifting back down the stairs as he maintained security.
Their presence filled the room immediately, not physically, but in the way they carried themselves.
Elena let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "You have no idea how long we've been stuck here…"
Rayes gave a small nod. "We've got a pretty good idea."
Christina glanced at the flare gun in her hand, her voice quieter now. "We thought… we thought we'd have to signal you from the roof."
" Look like it won't be necessary anymore," Wyatt said lightly.
A few of the survivors exchanged looks—some relieved, some overwhelmed, some still trying to process it all.
Derek shook his head slowly. "I'm just happy that i won't have to spend any more time in this place…"
Before anyone could say anything else, a deep, concussive boom could be heard from outside, followed almost instantly by another.
"What the hell was that?!" Karen snapped, panic breaking through her voice.
Rayes turned his attention immediately toward the windows. "That's ours."
Another explosion followed, louder this time, the sound reverberating through the concrete and steel of the building.
Wyatt glanced toward the others. "That'll be the overpasses."
"Let's check the results," Rayes said, already stepping toward the nearest window.
The survivors moved quickly toward the windows, the earlier tension replaced by urgency and confusion.
Christina reached the glass first, looking out.
Outside, the overpass was collapsing.
Massive sections of concrete gave way, the structure folding in on itself as explosions tore through its supports. Debris crashed downward in a violent cascade, sending up thick clouds of dust and smoke.
"Oh my God…" Elena whispered.
Below, the streets disappeared beneath the dust coming from the falling structure.
Derek stared, eyes wide. "They brought it down…"
Mike stood just behind them, his expression hardening slightly as he took in the scale of it.
Rayes stepped up beside them, watching the destruction with a steady gaze.
"There are thousands down there," he said quietly.
The second overpass followed a moment later, another chain of detonations ripping through it before it collapsed in the same devastating fashion.
The survivors were speechless, as they watched the dust and smoke rising from the destroyed overpasses.
••••
From the edge of the roof, the overpasses were barely visible anymore.
Just broken shapes beneath a thick, expanding haze.
Private Patel stood with his hands resting lightly on the ledge, his gaze fixed on the distant scene. The wind tugged faintly at his gear, carrying with it the smell of smoke and pulverized concrete.
Beside him, Specialist Keller adjusted his stance, lowering the binoculars from his eyes after a long look.
The dust kept rising, slowly spreading through the streets, swallowing what remained of the collapsed structure.
Patel exhaled quietly. "That's… a lot of dust."
Keller gave a faint, humorless smirk. "That's one way to put it."
Patel shook his head slightly, eyes still fixed forward. "You think it worked?"
Keller lifted the binoculars again, taking another measured look before answering.
"I think anything under that isn't getting back up."
He lowered them again, his expression settling into something more thoughtful.
"Question is how many were actually down there when it came down."
Patel leaned forward just a little, narrowing his eyes as if trying to see through the haze. "Last I saw? Several thousands."
Keller nodded once. "Yeah… it was like a flood."
They glanced down at the street below, where beyond the dust cloud, the shapes of the remaining walkers filling the streets we're visible from the rooftop.
••
Price didn't take his eyes off the ruins as the dust continued to rise over the shattered overpasses.
For a few seconds, he simply watched.
Then he reached for the radio clipped to his vest and brought it up.
"Bravo Six to Overlord," he said, voice steady, cutting cleanly through the lingering noise in the air. "Objective is complete. We're ready for the next phase."
There was brief pause filled only by static, followed by an almost imidiet answer.
"Overlord to Bravo Six, copy all," came Major Griggs' voice, clear and controlled over the comms. "Confirm structural collapse."
Price glanced once more toward the distance, where the remains of the overpasses had all but disappeared beneath dust and debris.
"Confirmed," he replied. "Both structures collapsed as planned. Large concentration of hostiles neutralized."
There was another short pause.
"Solid work, Bravo Six."
Price shifted his stance slightly, already moving to the next phase.
"Ready to proceed," he said. "Awaiting tasking.
The response came without delay.
"Proceed with next Phase," Griggs ordered. "Gather the remaining horde and direct them toward the secondary kill zone."
Price's gaze drifted briefly over the city, tracking the scattered movement.
"Copy that," he answered. "We'll move them."
"Bravo six out."
The line went quiet.
Price lowered the radio slightly, already turning back toward the operators.
Miles away, Major Griggs lowered his own headset, the faint crackle of the transmission fading into the background noise of the command post.
The temporary forward operating base had been set up fast—and it showed.
Canvas tents stretched across the open park, anchored into the ground in tight rows, their sides shifting slightly in the breeze. Cables ran between them in loose bundles, connecting radios, generators, and field equipment in a web of controlled chaos.
At the center, a larger command tent stood open, maps spread across folding tables, marked with grease pencil lines, coordinates, and shifting zones of operation.
And the firepower is located just beyond the tents.
Rows of mortars were positioned in organized lines, their tubes angled skyward, crews moving between them with practiced efficiency. Some checked alignment, others handled ammunition, their motions quick, deliberate, and routine.
Wooden crates stamped with stenciled markings were stacked nearby, pried open to reveal rows of mortar rounds nestled inside. More crates sat unopened, lined up beside supply trucks that had been hastily parked along the edge of the park.
Humvees idled nearby, surrounding the camp, some fitted with mounted .50 caliber machine guns, their gunners scanning the surrounding area with slow, methodical sweeps. Others were loaded with equipment, ready to move at a moment's notice.
Soldiers moved constantly, patrolling between vehicles and around the camp
Griggs stepped just outside the command tent, his eyes moving across the operation as he took it all in. In the distance, faint columns of dust still marked where the overpasses had fallen.
He let out a quiet breath.
"Alright," he said, more to himself than anyone else.
Then he addressed the nearby officers.
"Get those mortar teams ready."
A nearby NCO turned immediately. "Sir?"
Griggs gestured toward the map inside the tent without looking back. "We're moving to Phase Two. I want to make sure the firing solutions for the secondary zone are without error."
"Yes, sir."
The order spread quickly.
Crews began shifting with renewed urgency, adjusting positions, checking coordinates, preparing for what came next.
Griggs lifted his radio again, bringing it back up.
"Overlord to all elements," he transmitted. "Stand by for incoming hostiles. Phase Two is underway."
Around him, the camp continued to move with a controlled urgency.