When Grey awoke the next morning, it was to a dull buzz sound; a message on the Guild App from Sledge; and also from the App itself, at almost the same time.
The National Guard was organizing for something big; and was requesting every volunteer with a weapon over level 5; in groups, preferably. This was an emergency, of some sort.. And they wanted everyone to meet at the closest of a dozen provided checkpoints; each of which would also have a Guard unit waiting.
It promised to be massive, and was supposed to be incredibly important; which also meant it would be a good opportunity to gain levels.
Grey checked on the spiders; ensuring they had plenty of dead ants to last them a few days; before hopping in his truck… only for Sledge to show up at his house, honking, waving.
He studied it for a moment; an operation this big, it made sense to use fewer vehicles, he might end up inside an APC; and hopped in.. getting strapped in as Sledge started back down the road.
“Hey, grey. Been hearing some radio chatter. Shit’s getting bad, down south. Might want to avoid making human zombies for right now and stick with the ants… someone figured out a way to make a zombie that spreads itself with a bite…. And they’ve been spreading through Mexico like crazy, starting in Chihuahua”
He blinked. “... Someone noticed we were undergoing some sort of a magical, system-related apocalypse. And decided they wanted to turn it into a Zombie one?”
Sledge nodded. “Yup. They’ll probably not want you anywhere near the front, out of an unreasonable suspicion of Necromancers, but it would..”
Grey raised a hand. “Hold up. Necromancers can’t just control undead they make. Its just easier. If there’s a contagious sort of undead…. A necromancer can grab a bunch of them and make them fight the others. If there isn’t another Necromancer on the other side, and they aren’t sentient… its actually really easy. Can keep doing it for hours and just grind the enemy against itself.”
Sledge blinked. “...Really.” He glanced out at the checkpoint… and then back at Grey. “Necromancer isn’t exactly a common class, but there’s gotta be dozens of them in this area; there’s thousands of people over level five around El Paso. Being able to just make the front rank of the zombies hold back the others…”
Grey nodded. “Could be of extreme value. We don’t want to get the necromancers out of this… we want them with the squads on the front lines. Though… with the Chosen out there able to melt a whole building, I’m not sure how needed it is.”
“Well. How about we just ask and find out?”
***
At this particular checkpoint, a Colonel Parsons; who appeared to be the first Cat-folk Grey had seen in person; was going over the teams as they arrived; and sending them around, issuing orders.
A vehicle would stop; and then either go park, the riders moving on to some spot or squad; or for others, they simply turned right back onto the road.
By the time they reached the Colonel, Grey had already decided the best way to play this in order to actually get some useful combat time out of it.
When Sledge pulled up, Grey leaned forward and gave Parsons a salute… the man looked at him for a moment; he was wearing the armored vest over a long-sleeved button-up shirt, slacks, and combat boots… and then simply turned to Sledge.
“Levels and capabilities.”
“All level 8. One barely, the others close to nine. Melee tank, fire blast, lightning blast, telekinetics, and necromancy.”
“Ugh. Alright. Ya’ll can get back to clearing monsters, that’s still important even with this. We don’t want..”
“Sir.” Grey leaned forward. “You really want every necromancer you can get on the front lines of this. And tell them to leave their own undead home, bury em or get rid of them.”
He stared at Grey for a moment. “...And who am I speaking with?”
“You can call me Sergeant Grey, retired, former army, and with some necromantic ability.”
He nodded. “Well. Congratulations, welcome back to the service for the duration of the crisis. We don’t want anyone using Necromancy here, but every former…”
“Sir, apologies for interrupting. But every Necromancer can both create… and control… undead. And if there’s contagious undead out there… we can mentally grab the closest row and order them to attack, or just restrain, the next row. Just a handful of Necromancers could team up with a group of riflemen and handle an entire horde. Your usual human-sized zombie is only level 2 or 3. I can probably take the closest dozen, make them attack their buddies… and then do it again. And again, as we chew them apart, thirty-two levels worth of them at a time, making it much safer.”
“....I’ve sent seventeen Necromancers back so far. Why haven’t any of them mentioned that?”
Grey shrugged. “Maybe they’re trying to avoid a fight. Or just feel too afraid to speak up.” Or hadn’t even thought about controlling undead they hadn’t themselves made, since, til now, such things didn’t exist.
He shook his head. “Well, Sergeant Grey. Congratulations. You’re now in charge of my Necromancers. The rest of you, head to the checkpoint. Grey, stay right here. I’ll be bringing in some others and our intel people will be briefing you.”
Grey nodded. His fake identity’s history could be useful; but it might also be problematic. Hopefully this didn’t keep him far enough from the front line to keep earning levels.
***
“Lets be blunt here. There’s thousands of people involved in this operation, only twelve of us. The Army and Guard have never dealt with mindless undead before, because they’ve never existed before.We’re going to practice for a bit, make sure all of us get the idea…. And then move out. How many undead can each of you control?”
He looked at the line of Necromancers; no less than seven self-styled witches, classic ‘goth girls’, every one of which had chosen a particularly pale-skinned elf form; apparently he could’ve chosen varying scale colors as a serpentfolk, among other things, but he just hadn’t cared enough. One of them was an actual armored man who looked ready to fight, and had a massive hammer with a 4-foot handle… while the other four men wore black robes and carried Scythes or Sickles; ridiculously inappropriate weapons for regular fighting, much less killing undead.
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They started reading off the numbers. Three were only level 5 still, and could only control 12 levels worth of zombies. The rest ranged from a level 9 man; the one in armor; who could control 40, to several in the 20s. Hearing that he could control 40 at level 9, and the others 12 and 5, meant that there was something other than just level and the ‘Horde’ ability changing things.
When they reached the end, he nodded… and gestured at a pit in the ground, where he’d animated 32 worker ants. It would be a shame to destroy them; but he had over a hundred of them left in storage, and he had never hot-swapped control of undead like this himself. This would be good practice.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. These things are only level 1. I’m going to release control of them, and they, as undead, are going to try to attack the nearest living things they can see, or wander randomly if they can’t see any. We’re going to take turns grabbing hold of as many as we can, and using them to hold back the others, stop them from climbing out of the pit. The Guard already has units engaged holding zombies back in Mexico alongside Mexican police and armed forces, and would like us ready to go when we start entering one of the infected cities. You’ll be gaining levels fast, improving how many you can command… but right now, do the best with what you’ve got.”
He looked at the group… some of whom looked arrogant, unconcerned. Several of the witches; and the one armored man; looked more serious…. As he released the zombies, and pointed at the first witch. “Ma’am. You’re up.”
The ants had started to swarm over each other, crawling towards the wall of the pit… and almost immediately, a random scattering started grabbing the limbs of others, pulling them back… it took a few seconds, and which ants she had control of visibly swapped a few times… but soon, the ten ants she could control were essentially crippling the whole swarm.
He nodded. “Excellent. Once we get out there, keep an eye on doors and choke-points; a single zombie might be able to hold a door, or a pack of five an alleyway.”
Over the next ten minutes, the necromancers cycled through it, one by one; a few of the ants were destroyed, but by the time they reached the end, all twelve had demonstrated that if no-one else was controlling an undead… using them against each other was trivial.
“Good work. I’ll speak with the Colonel, we’ll all get assigned to teams.” He glanced at the zombies…. And reassumed control. After a few seconds thought, he had the fire-ants start burying themselves. As the other Necromancers watched, they confined most of the undead into a single, tightly-packed grave… the four outside the grave rolled a boulder on top of it… and then finally tore each other apart.
“There. If we need to train someone else, those should be trapped… but only partially intact.”
He picked up the radio the Colonel had assigned him… “Relay Colonel Parsons. Skulls are go, Over.”
After a few seconds, there was a response. ~Understood, Grey. Your rides are on the way.~
***
Over the next few minutes, Humvees started stopping by; an officer would ask Grey a question, he’d point out one of the Necromancers… and they’d take off. He himself, was last… and was paired up with a Sergeant Watkins, climbing into the backseat of the Humvee as a Corporal started driving them out into the desert.
He glanced at Grey. “So. Colonel tells me you’re a Sergeant yourself?”
“Yessir. I… probably have a few years on you in rank, but I’m retired, and can barely remember any of it. Don’t worry about me trying to give your orders, just tell me where to go so I can help our people kill zombies, and I’ll make it as safe and fast as I can.”
Watkins nodded, as they started to approach a small village, just a few miles from the border. As they arrived… a pack of zombies emerged; all fairly fresh… and as they drew in closer, Grey seized control; they simply stood in place, and pointed a hand at their head.
Watkins glanced at the zombies… his gunner firing; single, precise shots; surprised that a head-shot didn’t kill them every time.
“..Huh. Handy.”
“All of these were level 2. I can control… 16 of those.”
He looked at the zombies on the ground. “...Why two shots? Doesn’t destroying the brain kill them?”
“No brains to destroy. Nonsentient undead are just constructs of death magic; just do enough sheer damage to them and they break apart. Usually they stop working if you blow off half the limbs, or break the spine.”
A steady nod… more Humvees pulled in beside them as they did a slow sweep of the town… but when Watkins ordered a squad to start sweeping buildings, Grey raised a hand. “Sir… I can sense, and control them, if they’re close enough, even through a wall. Just make a slow drive down each block. If they’re there, I’ll ask you to stop, and they’ll walk right out… or we can go in after them.”
The Sergeant stared at him for a moment…. “Gentlemen. Back on the rigs. We’re going to be cruising through this place one street at a time, at… ten miles per hour?”
Grey nodded. “Should be slow enough. I can point out buildings with ones trapped, and we can either dispatch a squad if its just one, or if its a mob we can stop while I hold them in place.”
“...This… is much easier than I thought it was going to be going in.”
He shrugged. “Some people think the best person to help you fight zombies would be some sort of holy warrior type. But really… the best one you want is someone who can tell them what to do.”
***
The next several hours became boring; the Mexican military already had its own Necromancers working with their people, and considered it a bit absurd when the Guard suggested the idea; but the Army forces operating further west seemed to have ignored the concept even when suggested; until hearing the Guard was already deploying it, successfully, and clearing towns and villages far more effectively than they were.
Quite a few paranoid lunatics, believing a bite would lead to a fatal infection, caused rampant murder and suicide issues; which did somewhat make the problem worse, as while a bite wasn’t fatal, if you died soon enough after a bite, you would come back as a zombie, so long as you were mostly intact… even if your brain was gone.
Despite this nonsense, the whole spread was contained by the end of the day; and all that was left was the hard part… an actual city, filled with hundreds of thousands of zombies. Quick reactions, competent leadership, and the presence of the Chosen meant that the outbreak was mostly handled, the spread contained…
Except for one place. Chihuahua. For whatever reason; whether it was the start of the outbreak or just poorly timed decisions, the city was estimated to have between one hundred thousand and half a million zombies in it… and while it was contained… cleaning it out was going to be a nightmare.
The Chosen had warned that using nukes, or any weapons of mass destruction, would create terrible problems; an otherworldly rift which would use the sudden surge in ambient mana to spawn terrible, horrific, monsters, some of them created by the human psyche, others actually summoned from other worlds.
They needed to do this the hard way, one street at a time; which, for Grey, was excellent news. He was going to be going in with a few fire-teams of soldiers, clearing building by building… and have excellent opportunities both to pack his extradimensional space with useful loot… and to earn some levels.
Should he take the Contagious Undead ability himself? If he Empowered them with venom, or Curse, he could make a much more dangerous strain, to others, rather than to him, and by seeding it in the right place, make a situation elsewhere that would create another excellent leveling opportunity.
It might also cause millions of casualties; but that was immaterial. It would help him accomplish his goal; perhaps even kill her by accident, if she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Definitely something worth thinking about.
