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Chapter 210: Potential Wave
The answer spread through Outpost Echo like a shot of adrenaline.
For the first time that night, several defenders actually smiled.
Not because the battle was over.
Far from it.
The infected were still climbing over mountains of corpses.
The walls were still under pressure.
Machine guns were still firing nonstop.
But reinforcements meant hope.
And right now, hope was worth almost as much as ammunition.
Miles away from the fighting, inside Basa Air Base, another battle was beginning.
Not on the walls.
Not in the fields.
Inside the command center.
The doors opened.
Adrian stepped inside.
Immediately he knew something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The command center never slept.
There were always operators.
Always analysts.
Always radio traffic.
But tonight felt different.
The atmosphere was tense.
Urgent.
People were moving faster.
Voices were sharper.
Large tactical screens covered the front wall of the room.
Every screen showed live drone feeds.
Maps.
Thermal imagery.
Reconnaissance reports.
And every single operator looked stressed.
Ryan entered behind him carrying a coffee cup.
He took one look around.
Then lowered the cup.
"...What happened?"
Nobody answered immediately.
One operations officer was already speaking rapidly into a headset.
Another was updating troop positions.
A third was staring at a drone feed with a look Adrian did not like.
Not one bit.
Adrian walked toward the central operations table.
"Report."
The room immediately focused on him.
A captain stepped forward.
His expression looked grim.
"Sir."
"What happened?"
The officer pointed toward the main display.
"Outpost Echo."
The screen changed immediately.
Live drone footage appeared.
Night vision imagery.
Smoke.
Fire.
Thousands of infected.
Adrian frowned.
"A horde?"
"Yes, sir."
The officer swallowed.
Then continued.
"Initially we believed it was a large migration event."
The wording immediately caught Adrian’s attention.
"Initially?"
The officer nodded.
"Yes, sir."
He pointed toward another screen.
The image zoomed outward.
Farther.
Farther.
Farther.
The room became silent.
Even Ryan stopped joking.
Because the image was horrifying.
Roads.
Fields.
Towns.
Entire sections of Pampanga glowed with movement.
The infected weren’t attacking from one direction.
They were coming from everywhere.
North.
South.
East.
West.
All moving toward Atlas territory.
All moving toward human-controlled areas.
The officer continued.
"Current estimates exceed forty thousand infected around Outpost Echo."
Ryan whistled softly.
"That’s bad."
The officer nodded.
Then pointed toward another display.
"Unfortunately, that’s not the problem."
That got Adrian’s attention.
The screen changed.
A new drone feed appeared.
MQ-1 Predator reconnaissance footage.
The drone was operating far north of San Fernando.
Its infrared camera scanned the countryside.
At first Adrian didn’t understand what he was looking at.
Then the operator zoomed out.
And his expression changed immediately.
The landscape was moving.
Not figuratively.
Literally moving.
The thermal image showed countless heat signatures.
An ocean of them.
The camera continued zooming.
And the ocean continued growing.
Thousands.
Then tens of thousands.
Then more.
Far more.
The operator looked toward Adrian.
"We launched additional Predator reconnaissance after Outpost Echo reported unusual activity."
The image changed again.
A second drone.
Different location.
Same result.
Another massive concentration.
Then another.
Then another.
Every screen began displaying drone feeds simultaneously.
The command center fell silent.
Because every single feed showed the same thing.
Infected.
Moving.
Gathering.
Converging.
Ryan slowly lowered his coffee.
"That’s..."
He didn’t finish the sentence.
Because nobody needed him to.
The operations officer took a breath.
Then finally delivered the worst news.
"Sir."
Adrian looked toward him.
The officer pointed toward the national map.
"We estimate the infected are mobilizing across multiple provinces."
The map updated.
Red markers appeared.
Then more.
Then more.
The room grew quieter with every update.
Pampanga.
Tarlac.
Bulacan.
Nueva Ecija.
Parts of Pangasinan.
Large infected concentrations were moving toward Basa.
Ryan stared at the map.
Then looked at Adrian.
Then back at the map.
"...You’re telling me all of those are heading here?"
The operations officer nodded.
"Yes."
The answer hung heavily inside the room.
For several seconds nobody spoke.
Because nobody wanted to say the obvious.
Then Adrian finally did.
"How many?"
The room became silent again.
The officer exchanged looks with several analysts.
Nobody seemed eager to answer.
Which was never a good sign.
Finally one intelligence analyst spoke.
"We don’t know."
Adrian’s expression hardened.
"Give me an estimate."
The analyst hesitated.
Then answered.
"Conservative estimate?"
"Yes."
The analyst swallowed.
"Hundreds of thousands."
Ryan stared.
The room stared.
Nobody liked that number. It’s basically like the other wave a year ago.
Then the analyst continued.
"Possibly more."
The room became completely silent.
Because everyone understood what "possibly more" meant.
The operations officer pointed toward another drone feed.
"This Predator is operating seventy kilometers north."
The footage appeared.
The drone flew high above an abandoned highway.
The image showed infected as far as the camera could see.
Roads packed.
Fields packed.
Buildings packed.
Everything packed.
The drone operator slowly adjusted the zoom.
And the horde kept going.
And going.
And going.
Until finally Ryan muttered the question everyone was thinking.
"How many zombies are we actually looking at?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Because nobody knew.
The drone footage looked less like a horde.
More like population movement.
The kind of movement normally seen during mass evacuations.
Except these weren’t civilians.
These were infected.
Millions of them had once lived across Luzon.
Now something appeared to be gathering them.
Then another operator suddenly spoke.
"Sir."
Everyone looked toward him.
The operator’s face had gone pale.
"What?"
The man pointed toward another screen.
"Southern reconnaissance drone."
The feed appeared immediately.
Another MQ-1 Predator.
Another province.
Another highway.
Another massive concentration.
The room went silent.
Because now the infected weren’t just coming from the north.
They were coming from the south too.
The camera zoomed out.
The thermal signatures stretched across the landscape.
Endless.
Ryan stared.
"No."
The operator nodded slowly.
"Yes."
The command center suddenly felt colder.
Because now the pattern was impossible to ignore.
The infected weren’t migrating.
They weren’t wandering.
They weren’t reacting.
They were maneuvering.
Like an army.
An army surrounding a target.
And that target was becoming increasingly obvious.
Adrian stared at the map.
Every route.
Every concentration.
Every movement vector.
All pointing toward one location.
Basa Air Base.
The realization settled heavily across the room.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
The only sound came from radios and computer systems.
Then Adrian finally broke the silence.
"When did this start?"
The intelligence officer answered immediately.
"Within the last twenty-four hours."
That timing wasn’t random.
Not even close.
Adrian immediately thought of Project Eden.
Akira.
Doctor Lin.
The discovery of the outbreak’s origin.
The Beijing extraction.
Everything.
Ryan came to the same conclusion.
His voice was unusually serious.
"You think this is connected?"
Adrian never took his eyes off the screen.
"Yes."
The answer came instantly.
Because it was too convenient otherwise.
Too coordinated.
Too deliberate.
The infected had ignored them for over a year.
Now suddenly hordes were mobilizing across multiple provinces.
Immediately after they discovered who created the apocalypse.
That wasn’t coincidence.
That was a response.
Somewhere out there.
Possibly hundreds of kilometers away.
Possibly inside Project Eden itself.
Someone had noticed.
And they were reacting.
The operations officer finally spoke again.
His voice sounded much quieter now.
"Sir."
Adrian looked toward him.
The officer pointed toward the map.
Red markers continued appearing.
More drone reports.
More movement.
More infected.
The numbers kept growing.
And growing.
And growing.
Then the officer delivered the final update.
"Current projections indicate continued convergence toward Basa."
The room became silent again.
Because everyone understood what that meant.
Outpost Echo wasn’t the main attack.
It never was.
It was only the beginning.
The real storm was still coming.