Chapter 68: The Sweep is in Progress
Shawn slowly knelt. He picked up a translucent glass bottle and gave it a gentle push forward.
'Clink, clank, ding—'
The sound was crisp and clear, and in the empty administration building, it echoed and reverberated. Walkers could smell the scent of blood, and they were attracted by noise. As the bottle rolled from Shawn's feet to the end of his line of sight, the sound fading into the distance, a dozen decaying figures swayed and emerged from the office doors on both sides.
Seeing the walkers coming toward them, Shawn lazily stretched, deftly twirled the hammer in his hand, and actively walked toward them.
At this moment, the light spilling in from the main entrance of the administration building shone on Shawn's perfect, powerfully imposing physique. This created a sudden illusion in the minds of the others who had come to clear out the walkers.
"It's definitely not these dozen walkers surrounding Shawn, but Shawn alone surrounding all the walkers!"
And as the walkers got closer, Shawn grew more and more excited.
"Just how strong can Lv. 10 Strength be?"
"Fighting that bunch of losers yesterday wasn't satisfying enough. Today, I'll use you to test my hammer."
Shawn gripped the sledgehammer with one hand, holding it parallel to his side. Seeing the three walkers that had reached him, his expression didn't change; he just swept the sledgehammer horizontally.
'SQUELCH—!'
With the gush of blood, it was as if the entire dim corridor had changed color. Everything happened in an instant. Three balding heads flew into the air, hovering for a moment. Shawn's seemingly casual swing had directly snapped the cervical vertebrae of these three walkers. The force was so great that it had actually altered the trajectory of the flying heads.
Shawn looked up, his eyes level. He was long accustomed to killing, but he had never felt more at ease than he did now. Killing three walkers felt like crushing three ants. They bared their teeth and claws, pressing forward step by step. But in the face of absolute power, it was all useless.
It was as if it wasn't blood flowing in his veins, but scorching hot magma. Shawn's body was being activated by his blood. Although he was just standing still, he was like a furnace, radiating immense heat.
He slowly advanced, his pace quickening! Every walker he passed would have a gush of blood or a broken limb! A dozen walkers couldn't stop his advance at all. Shawn walked all the way to the end of the corridor. Only then did the last walker behind him fall to the ground with a 'thud'.
Hearing the sound, Shawn's imposing aura receded. He shouldered his hammer, turned around, and said in a leisurely voice, "Finishing blows. I want to see at least two knife holes in every walker's head. I don't want to see any corpse with an intact head get back up."
Only when the last of his words echoed in the corridor did the others snap out of their daze. They put away their firearms, drew their melee weapons, and began delivering finishing blows to the bodies on the ground.
"Pile up all the finished corpses together. Avoid them when you pass by. We'll move them after we've cleared out all the walkers in the entire building," Shawn reminded them step by step. The others had no extra dialogue or actions; they just followed his orders.
The bodies of a dozen walkers were piled into a small mountain in an office. T-Dog pulled the office door shut with a 'clatter', leaving the corridor empty.
Watching their actions, Shawn nodded to himself.
Being stupid wasn't a problem, nor was being weak. The most important thing was not being aware of one's own stupidity, not striving to be stronger when weak, and not reflecting on one's mistakes.
"Continue," Shawn said in a deep voice.
The administration building opened into a long corridor. At the end was a 'T' junction. To the left was a staircase leading up. To the right, a few steps away, was a sturdy metal door. This was the usual gathering place for the prison guards, with a briefing room, a kitchen, a guard-level cafeteria, and other areas.
"We don't need to rush upstairs. Let's lure them out first and clear them out step by step," Rick suggested, walking to Shawn's side.
Daryl shone his flashlight through the metal door of the cafeteria and took a look inside. "I only see three or four. Maybe they weren't on their meal break when it all happened."
"That's good news," Shawn nodded and signaled for everyone to do as Rick said. They all stood on either side of the staircase railing. They raised their firearms, pre-aiming at the stairs. After everyone gave a slight nod, Shawn struck the hollow metal handrail hard with his hammer.
'CLANG, CLANG—'
The sound was crisp, and the vibrations traveled up the handrail from the first floor all the way to the third. After a brief echo, it fell silent. Shawn listened intently, because what followed was the low growl of walkers. Their growls began to echo through the building, and the sound of their footsteps quickly became clear. The sound of footsteps went from one or two to gradually overlapping, finally converging into a considerable torrent.
"Stand on the sides of the stairs!" Shawn instructed loudly, while he himself stood alone in the center, directly facing the staircase.
They had no brains, so they would charge straight for him the moment they came down the stairs. Shawn put away his Stone Sledgehammer and pulled the Remington from his back. Unlike the others, who pressed the stock against their shoulder and their cheek against the gun, he stood with his legs apart and held the shotgun in front of him.
With Boomstick at Lv. 1, it was difficult to hit targets accurately. Shawn just needed to maintain his firepower and coordinate with the others.
'Thump, thump, thump—!'
The footsteps became dense. Just three seconds after everyone was ready, with a hoarse roar, a walker rolled down the stairs. And behind it, at least a dozen figures were trotting down, surging forward madly. They leaped down the stairs, piling up and crashing into each other, heading straight for Shawn.
'BOOM—!!'
The first gunshot rang out. The muzzle of the shotgun in Shawn's hands spat out a spray of fire. From that point on, the gunfire was unstoppable! The dense sound of gunshots quickly drowned out the sound of the surging walkers.
Flashes of light and gunpowder smoke began to spread. Blood flowed down the steps in a river. The front row of walkers staggered and fell to the ground. Shawn, holding the Remington with one hand, didn't flinch. He quickly pumped the fore-end, and a hot shell casing flew from the side of the barrel.
While continuously pulling the trigger, Shawn actually began to walk steadily forward. His aim was bad, but that was fine. This was the great equalizer. As long as he was close enough, he would definitely be able to hit a walker's head.
Until all 8 rounds were spent. The others' gunfire also stopped at the right time as they began to reload. For a moment, a chorus of 'click, clack, click' sounds of reloading filled the air.
*****
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