I Have a Modern Weapon Gacha System in the Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 67: The Package

"What do you mean by that! You’re not military!" the congressman raised his voice.

"I said get back on the line!" the soldier snapped, aiming his M4 Carbine at him. "Like I said! There will be a helicopter coming to pick you up later. You just have to wait!"

"And why would we believe that? Heck you might even abandon us!" the congressman said, voice rising as he stepped forward again, ignoring the muzzle still trained on him.

"You don’t give the orders here," the lead soldier replied flatly. "Step back."

The man laughed under his breath, shaking his head like the situation itself was beneath him.

"You think you can just show up here, pick whoever you want, and expect us to just fall in line?" he said. "I’m telling you right now, that’s not how this works."

He pointed at the rope.

"That seat is mine," he added. "You pull me up next, or you answer for it later."

No one moved.

The soldiers held their positions, rifles steady, spacing tight enough to block any push toward the line.

"You’re making a mistake," the congressman continued, stepping closer until he was just a few feet from the barrel of the rifle. "You don’t even know who you’re talking to."

"I know exactly who I’m talking to," the soldier said. "A civilian who was told to step back."

The man’s expression hardened.

"You think this ends here?" he said. "When this is over, I will have your names. Your unit. Your command. Every single one of you will get fired! I have a relatives from the Department of Defense..."

"Soldier, I give you permission to punch that guy in the face," Adrian said.

There was no pause this time.

The lead soldier shifted his weight forward in one clean motion, closing the gap before the congressman could react. The rifle dipped just enough to clear the line, and his fist came up fast.

It connected.

Straight across the jaw.

The impact snapped the man’s head to the side and sent him stumbling backward, his footing giving out as he hit the concrete and dropped hard on his shoulder.

The crowd froze.

The soldier brought his rifle back up immediately, muzzle steady, posture unchanged like nothing had happened.

"Back on the line," he said.

The congressman groaned on the ground, one hand clutching his jaw, eyes wide in disbelief more than pain.

"You—" he started, voice breaking, trying to push himself up.

The soldier took one step forward.

"Stay down," he said. "Or I drop you again."

The man stopped.

It was now Adrian’s mother’s turn. She was clipped in quickly, the soldier guiding her hands, locking the harness with a firm tug.

"Secure."

"Hoist."

The line tightened and lifted her clean off the rooftop, her body swaying slightly as she rose through the rotor wash.

Inside the helicopter, hands reached down and pulled her in, guiding her onto the floor beside her husband. The moment she landed, he grabbed her immediately, both of them holding onto each other without saying a word.

"Two of the civilians were successfully extracted. We are moving out. Pull up now," the crew chief said.

"Copy," the lead soldier replied.

He didn’t lower his rifle right away.

He scanned the crowd one last time, making sure no one was about to rush the line again. The civilians held their distance now, eyes fixed on the rope, on the helicopter, on the only way out.

"Listen," he said, voice raised just enough to carry over the rotor noise. "A second helicopter is inbound. You will be extracted. Stay on this rooftop and maintain order."

The second soldier moved first, stepping back toward the rope. He grabbed it with one hand, slinging his rifle tight across his chest.

"Hook," he said.

The line was secured.

"Hoist."

He lifted off the rooftop, boots leaving the concrete as he rose steadily into the air.

The third followed right after, same motion, same efficiency, disappearing into the helicopter above.

The fourth soldier backed off last from his position, still facing the crowd as he moved. Rifle up. Controlled steps. He didn’t turn his back until he reached the rope.

"Stay here," he said. "Do not leave the roof."

Then he grabbed the line.

"Hoist."

He rose.

The lead soldier remained.

Last man.

He held his position for a few seconds more, making sure the crowd stayed in place, that no one broke formation now that the perimeter was gone.

The congressman stayed on the ground, eyes blazed with fury.

The lead soldier finally stepped back.

He grabbed the rope.

"Hoist."

The line tightened and lifted him off the rooftop.

The distance opened.

The civilians below grew smaller as he rose, their faces turning upward, following him until he cleared the edge and disappeared into the helicopter.

Inside, hands grabbed his vest and pulled him in.

"Clear!" the crew chief shouted.

The rope retracted.

The helicopter banked away from the rooftop, pulling out of the area as the building shrank behind them.

Below, the civilians were left standing on the roof.

Meanwhile, inside the helicopter, Ryan, who was on the stretcher spoke.

"What are your names?"

"What are your names?" Ryan asked, his voice steady now despite the strain in it.

The couple looked at him.

Still holding onto each other.

Still catching their breath.

For a second, neither of them answered, like they were still trying to process where they were.

Then the man spoke.

"...Daniel," he said. His voice was rough, dry. "Daniel Fernandez."

The woman followed.

"Maria," she said quietly.

Ryan gave a small nod.

"Ryan," he replied. "You’re safe now."

Daniel exhaled slowly, one hand still gripping his wife’s shoulder as if letting go would make everything disappear.

"Why save us only? I don’t understand..."

"Oh you’ll know soon enough when we land in our base," Ryan said, chuckling.

"What do you mean?"

"There’s someone there wanting to see you," Ryan simply said. "I better not spoil it for you. It is best to wait."