40 Attacking the Barracks

After letting the others rest for a few minutes, Mark stood up, grabbing everyone's attentions, and said, "Get ready, we are entering the barracks now, it's the only building they still hold control, but also the one with more soldiers inside, how is everyone's ammo?"

All the twenty-ish people around Mark made ugly faces, and someone said, "Let's gather all bullets and share equally. This will give us better odds"

Hearing that, everyone nodded or showed their approval of the idea somehow. It seemed a good idea after all, but Mark shook his head and said, "Guys, I know everybody hates to be out of ammo, but this is not a game. We need to capture that building and kill everyone inside. It's not about surviving a few hours against a horde of beasts. This is different. If we don't capture that building quickly, we will run out of ammo, and they have ammo inside that building to play with us for days."

The same man that talked before stood up from a broken sofa, and asked, "So what do you suggest?"

"Lets give all the ammo for the best shooters, the rest will come along and use the same strategy they used in the WW2, We kill, and take their ammunition as we advance." said Mark

"So, you want us to give all the ammo to you and your buddies? While we enter the building with empty hands?" said the same man from before, and Mark noticed many people were furrowing their brows, spitting on the ground or just cursing low while hearing that.

Mark gave a slight smile, and said, "That's where you are wrong. I know I'm the best shooter here, everyone knows..." said Mark, looking around at everyone and seeing that one objected, he continued, "... and that's all thanks to my powers, but I will not use a rifle when we enter that building, I'm going to use this sword," and raised his silver sword for everyone to see.

The tension seemed to lower down as Mark said that. They understood that Mark was not just trying to stay alive during the battle ahead, but he wanted to maximize their chances of winning.

"Ok, I will go by your plan," said the same man from before, and Mark nodded to him.

It was easy for people to get carried away in a discussion and forget the actual goal of the discussion itself, but everyone inside that room was already battle forged and they knew that stupid discussions only brought death.

"How many grenades you have?" asked Mark aloud.

"I have a smoke grenade," said a young man almost the same age as Mark.

"Same here," said a burly man with an irregular mustache already throwing his grenade at Mark to grab it.

Seeing that the burly man gave his smoke grenade to Mark, the young man did the same.

"No more?" asked Mark, because it was really depressing to only have two grenades, but not only that, but both were smoke grenades.

It was not coincidence that the two grenades left were smoke grenades. That's because they were the most useless types of all, because they took time to create smoke enough to fog up an entire room, and to have an advantage when using it, someone would need to have a gas mask. The army still produced them only because it was useful to confuse the beasts and to signal landing points or rescue points in the open.

Mark was already trying to figure a way how to use those two grenades to create an advantage for them when a thin old man stood up and placed a grenade in Mark's hand. "It's an M67, not this shit the army makes now," said the man, looking at the grenade sadly, as if he was departing from a good friend.

Mark looked at the grenade in his left hand and immediately understood what the man was talking about. It was a pre-invasion grenade, but not only any pre-invasion grenade, it was the best of them all. It had a deadly blast of five meters, and it could even hurt a wyvern.

That grenade was the deadliest weapon in the apocalypse that a soldier could dream to have.

Seeing that grenade in his hands, Mark smiled. Because now they will be able to create an opening for them to enter the barracks building, and that was all he wanted.

"Thank you very much, old man," said Mark, putting the grenade in his pocket and patting the man's shoulder.

"What do we do now?" asked the same guy from before, and Mark noticed that the man liked to be the one to ask questions, the annoying kind of people that always wanted to be a leader.

"The barracks are just across the street, but if we step foot on that street, they will shoot us down. Previously, I saw two snipers on the roof, and around thirty soldiers on the second-floor windows and balcony. My guess is that the colonel and the captains are in the inner part of the second floor, and the first floor is mostly a death trap. They probably have all entrances to the second floor heavily secured. The only way for us to enter is from the top to bottom." said Mark taking a pause, because he could see on that man's face that he was almost imploring to ask questions.

"And how the hell are we going there? Do you have wings?" asked the same man, while slapping his own face in frustration, then he continued, "Alright..... We listened to you kid, now it's time for the adult..." but barely the man called Mark a kid and a slap hit his face.

But it was not Mark who gave the slap, but the girl by his side, the same girl who tried to bend the silver sword.

Mark looked to the side, a bit astonished. He was not expecting that. No one was. After all, that girl had been quiet the entire time and suddenly slapped the man out of nowhere.

"Continue please..." said the girl in a formal tone of voice while looking at Mark, and everyone became speechless, even the man who got slapped.

After five endless seconds of an awkward silence, Mark continued, "Cough... As I was saying..."