The various obstacles set up in advance like rejecting horses had changed from hanging corpses to piles of corpses, and the gradually increasing weight caused the obstacles made of steel to collapse after a snowflake, and the subsequent corpses staggered and stepped on these human mounds, and some of them fell and rolled down, but before long, these tireless living dead got up from the snow again, and staggered towards the line of defense that smelled of the living.

"Ilyich!" Sergei, a major of the Russian army, shouted behind him: "Send another tank of fuel!" ”

In front of him, a flamethrower was intermittently spewing blazing tongues of fire at the swarming zombie horde, thanks to the close distance between the zombies and the exposed grease on their bodies, each spitting of the flames could cause an astonishing range of fire, which was a fruitful result that was unimaginable in the previous battle between the living and the living.

Immediately followed by a series of crisp crashing sounds, several thick blood flowers with gray-black bone fragments burst out from the knees of those zombies who were lucky enough not to be touched by the flames, and they suddenly fell headlong forward like scarecrows that had lost their balance.

The long-term cooperation has made the soldiers on the defense line have developed effective shooting skills in the face of the impact of zombies, and the corpses that broke through to less than 15 meters outside the defense line under two rounds of flamethrows and machine gun shots were suddenly emptied.

But the zombies who had lost their legs were still crawling claw-on-claw, and it was a fool's dream to blow up their brains in the jungle-dense hordes of zombies. In the original tactical plan, after the large group of zombies was ignited by the flames, the machine gunner should accurately blast the remaining zombies that were not affected by the flames, but in actual combat, it was found that those ignited corpses were simply like moving torches, and the black smoke from the burning of grease and rags obscured the upper body of a large group of corpses, making the headshot completely a "good" plan that only existed on paper.

The crawling zombies would eventually crawl in front of the soldiers, wasting another wave of precious bullets in their hands.

"Poof!"

When the major heard the sound of falling behind him, he immediately turned around and angrily reprimanded: "Don't break the fuel tank!" A sucker! ”

But when he turned around, there was only a thin figure in civilian clothes struggling to stand up in the mud, and there was no shadow of a fuel tank.

"They said that the rest of the fuel should be kept for the vehicle, and that the tools for transfer should not be abandoned." The boy, who was about fourteen or fifteen years old, didn't even dare to wipe the mud off his face, so he hurriedly spoke.

When he went to beg for oil, he had already been scolded, just scolded, self-esteem was nothing to them who moved south with the army, but in front of him was a soldier who had killed a zombie with a red eye, and he couldn't blow up the zombie's head, but it was effortless to pull out a gun and explode his head if he was not satisfied.

So before the major could attack, a beer bottle stained with muddy water appeared in front of him.

"I took advantage of the fact that the others were clamoring for supplies, and I saw it when I made incendiary bombs, and they were all diluted with oil from this bottle." The thin boy named Ilyich lowered his head and handed the bottle to the hand that the major had reached out and snatched.

In the heavily guarded rear, "along" a military supply, courage and luck are indispensable, even taking advantage of the chaos, Ilyich's astuteness is remarkable. But the people who were able to flee all the way from cold Siberia to here clearly did not care about human ability, and their numbers were already too numerous compared to resources.

The best way at the moment is to be diligent in helping these soldiers to carry things, even if it is to pick up some rocks and throw them under the wall, as long as they get out of the Major's sight. But as if he had made up his mind, the boy clenched his fists and shouted fiercely, "Give me a gun!" I can ...... too."

Before he finished speaking, he was ruthlessly interrupted by a slap, and the slap did not leave the slightest trace under the roar of the guns, except for a boy covering his red and swollen forehead and sobbing and trembling slightly. I don't know if it's cold, hate, or fear.

"I'm willing to trade your rotten life for a full magazine!" The Major was vicious and did not show any affection between his compatriots, and he pulled out the strip of oilcloth from the port of the beer bottle, and sniffed it vigorously under the wing of his nose.

"Glued gasoline? Boy! The corners of the major's scarred eyes suddenly turned up again, and after understanding the great lethality of the bottle in his hand, which was not amazing, he naturally knew that it was not easy to "smooth" the bottle of gasoline used to make napalm raw materials, he glanced at the boy's frozen purple lips, felt the faint body temperature on the beer bottle, carefully inserted the beer bottle into the grenade bag on his chest, and then reached out and pulled out the dagger in the scabbard on his calf, and as soon as his hand was released, the rusty dagger was plunged into the mud in front of the boy.

"Take it and go back to camp!"

After speaking, he turned around and hurriedly handed the bottle to the soldier who was spitting fire with fuel in the rhythm of time, and in the surprised eyes of the other party, Sergei could only reply with a helpless expression.

"I'll go to the snow and melt some water, dilute it, and splash it off the wall."

"Major! I'll make another trip and transfer the ones that don't need that many cars, maybe they'll clear the fuel tank of a car...... No, maybe half a box will be given. The boy who was carefully wiping the dagger on his clothes shouted behind the Major, though his movements did not make the dagger any cleaner.

"Less nonsense, let you get out of here!" Sergei made a gesture and drew his gun, and sure enough, the boy immediately turned around and ran like a frightened rabbit.

There will be no oil left, Sergei waved his arm and carefully rolled the black snow mixed with ice chips into the iron bucket, thinking that civilians only know that life is getting more and more difficult, but they always have hope for the army with tanks and helicopters, and still have good fantasies about the warm south that they have seen on TV.

They didn't know that the tank shells had already been lifted and the gunpowder had been poured out, and the helicopter gunship, when quelling the riots, had it ever appeared?

The soldiers were confident that no high-ranking would hide fuel and wait for an opportunity to escape, not only in their surroundings, but also in Colonel Natasha, who led the purge, and who had already used the lives of many officers at all levels to strengthen the hearts of the people who lived and died together.

Today should be the last day of his military career, but the country that swore allegiance to the flag has long ceased to exist, and the heart that has been in a state of tension and depression actually feels a little lonely, Sergei thought, this world, will not last long......

After pouring impure gelatinous gasoline into badly rusted barrels and distributing it, Major Sergei picked up the AK-12 rifle that had been thrown aside and pulled out the long, narrow white blade that had been stuck in the dirt for an unknown amount of time.

"Brethren, get on the bayonet!"