RTS System in the Apocalypse: New World

"Copy, Delta One."

Sweeper Two’s platoon leader lowered his communicator and looked toward the apartment block across the street.

The neutral markers remained inside.

Most of them were gathered somewhere above the first floor. None had moved toward the entrance since the platoon arrived, although one marker had approached a window before quickly moving away.

The building itself looked no different from the others they had already passed.

Several windows were covered from the inside. Furniture blocked the main entrance, while pieces of metal had been placed against the lower windows. Whoever lived there had made enough preparations to keep the infected outside.

Whether those preparations could stop soldiers was another question.

The platoon leader raised one hand.

"Rear alley and both sides. No entry."

Two teams moved out immediately. One headed around the left side of the building while the other crossed toward the narrow road behind it.

The Guardian APC remained at the intersection. Its autocannon turned away from the apartment block and watched the roads instead.

"Contact team, with me."

Three soldiers followed him across the street.

Their weapons remained lowered, though nobody removed their hands from them. The Radar did not show any infected inside the building, but that did not mean the survivors had no firearms of their own.

The platoon leader stopped several meters from the entrance.

The furniture behind the glass doors had been stacked high enough that nobody could enter without making a lot of noise. A narrow gap remained between two cabinets. Something moved behind it.

He raised his voice.

"People inside the building. This is Sweeper Two under Commander Golden Eagle. We are here to rescue you if you are willing to."

Nobody answered.

"We know you are inside. We are not entering the building. Send one person to the window with empty hands."

The movement behind the entrance disappeared.

The soldiers waited.

One minute passed without a response.

The platoon leader checked the Radar again. The markers had started moving between rooms. Some went farther from the entrance while two remained near the front side of the building.

They were awake, and they had heard him.

"Repeat the announcement," he ordered.

The Army Soldier beside him stepped forward.

"Survivors inside, listen carefully. We are not here to attack you. Send one person to the front window. Keep your hands visible."

A curtain shifted on the second floor.

The contact team raised their heads.

A hand appeared against the glass before disappearing again.

"Second floor," one soldier reported.

"I see it."

The curtain opened slightly.

A young man looked down at them through the gap. Only part of his face could be seen. He remained there for several seconds before raising both hands beside his head.

The platoon leader lifted his own empty hand.

"Can you hear me?"

The young man nodded.

"Open the window."

He hesitated before reaching toward the side.

The window moved by several centimeters.

"What do you want?" the young man called down.

"To confirm your group’s condition and establish contact. Are any of you infected?"

"No."

"Anyone bitten?"

"No!"

The answer came too quickly.

One of the soldiers glanced toward the platoon leader, but the Radar markers remained neutral.

"Are there injured people inside?"

The young man looked away from the window.

Someone spoke to him from inside, though the words did not reach the street.

"Some," he answered. "Nothing from the infected."

"How many people are in the building?"

The young man did not answer.

Another voice came from somewhere behind him.

"Don’t tell them anything!"

The window started to close.

"Wait."

The young man stopped.

"We are conducting a civilian evacuation," the platoon leader continued. "Anyone willing to leave will be escorted to a secured area. Nobody is forcing you out."

A voice came from behind the young man.

"We’re not going anywhere."

The young man looked back into the room.

The platoon leader waited for him to face the window again.

"Is that the decision of the entire group?"

No answer came.

The window closed.

The soldiers remained where they were.

"Second announcement," the platoon leader ordered.

The Army Soldier stepped forward once more.

"Survivors inside the building. This is your second call. We are offering evacuation to a secured military position. Send one representative outside if your group intends to leave."

The covered windows remained still.

The Radar markers moved farther into the building.

Several minutes passed.

Nobody came down.

The platoon leader checked the surrounding streets. Both flank teams had already secured the rear alley and neighboring structures. The Guardian APC remained at the intersection, watching the roads.

"One final call."

The Army Soldier raised his voice.

"Survivors inside. This is the final evacuation call. Sweeper Two will continue its operation after this. Anyone choosing to remain will be left inside the building."

A curtain moved on the second floor.

The young man appeared again, but someone pulled him away before he could open the window.

That was enough of an answer.

The platoon leader raised his communicator.

"Sweeper Two to Delta One."

"Delta One receiving."

"Contact completed. Survivor group confirmed. Evacuation declined after three announcements. No hostile action observed."

"Copy, Sweeper Two. Mark the building and continue the sweep."

"Understood."

He lowered the communicator.

"Collapse the perimeter. Return to formation."

The teams withdrew from the alleys and crossed back toward the main road. The Guardian APC moved forward once the last soldier cleared the intersection.

Before leaving, the platoon leader looked toward the second-floor window.

The curtain remained slightly open.

Someone was still watching them.

Sweeper Two continued forward.

Two blocks later, another set of neutral markers appeared inside a narrow residential building.

There were only three of them.

Sweeper Two stopped again.

This building had fewer barricades. A wooden table blocked the entrance, but it had already been dragged aside before the soldiers reached the front.

A man stepped out first with both hands raised.

Behind him came a woman carrying a backpack and a young girl holding onto the side of her shirt.

None of them carried weapons.

"Stop."

The Guardian APC and the rest of the soldiers halted in the middle of the street.

The platoon leader approached with two soldiers.

"Raise your hands in the air."

"Okay, okay!"

The couple raised their hands in fear while the young girl looked at them with teary eyes.

"Anyone bitten?"

"No," the man answered.

"Injured?"

"My wife hurt her ankle two days ago. She can still walk."

The woman nodded. Her right foot remained slightly raised whenever she stopped moving.

"Any other people inside?"

"No. Just us."

The platoon leader looked toward the Radar map. Three neutral markers stood in front of him. Nothing else remained inside the building.

"You understand that you will be brought to a secured military position?"

"Yes."

"You will follow all instructions once inside."

The man nodded again.

"We understand."

The young girl looked past the soldiers toward the Guardian APC.

"Are we riding that?"

Her mother placed one hand on her shoulder.

The platoon leader glanced at the vehicle.

"Yes."

The girl tightened her hold on the woman’s shirt but did not say anything else.

One of the soldiers checked the bags while another entered the building to confirm that nobody had been left behind. The family carried little with them. Two backpacks, a plastic bag filled with clothes, and a small container of what once could be called food.

There was nothing that would delay the platoon.

The rear ramp of the Guardian APC lowered.

"Move out the lot of you. We got survivors on the tow."

The soldiers exited in a disciplined rhythm. None dared to complain as it was their Commander’s orders.

"Wait."

The platoon leader stepped aside as two male Medics exited the Guardian APC.

One carried a bio-scanner tablet. The other remained several steps behind with his hand near the folded stretcher attached to his equipment.

"Sir..." the man worried. "What is this?"

"A necessary procedure. Our Medics will scan your family. No need to worry."

"What if," the man stuttered, "what if one of us is infected?"

"Then you’ll be isolated for a bit and be cured by our personnel."

The man looked at the platoon leader for a moment before nodding. "I see. We... we’ll follow."

"We will not harm your family. You can be rest assured with that."

The platoon leader turned to the medic pair. "Scan them."

The first Medic scanned the man, then the woman and their daughter.

Green indicators appeared one after another.

"No infection detected," he reported. "One injured ankle. Stable enough for transport."

The family of three felt as if a huge weight was released from their soldiers.

The platoon leader nodded toward the APC.

"Get inside."

The man helped his wife inside first. The girl followed between them, looking back at the building once before the ramp began to close.

The platoon leader raised his communicator.

"Sweeper Two to Delta One. Three survivors recovered. No infected. One minor mobility injury. Continuing sweep."

"Copy, Sweeper Two."

The APC moved forward.

This time, nobody watched them leave from behind a covered window.

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