Before taking another step toward the green boxy building, that most likely held her target. Raven decided to test a theory about this mysterious system that she has been given.
She summoned the Ironhowl X4 from her System Space.
The moment it materialized, she walked around it, arms folded as she inspected it. Spotless. No blood, no zombie mush in the wheel wells. Not a single pice of organ or bone on the body of the SUV.
"Perfect," she said. "This saves me the effort of having to design a machine to wash all of my machines after use."
She waved the Ironhowl away, returning the vehicle to her system storage.
The field around her was eerily quiet.
Above, her two drones flew in wide circles, camras searching for threats as barrels locked onto their target's. Every few seconds, one would turn mid-flight, fire a single round, and pop the decayed skull of a zombie from two hundred feet away.
'Bang'
'Squelch'
'Thump'
Three more fell to the ground before Raven's next breath.
She saw it all through their camera feeds. Her mind drifted from one drone to the next, like slipping between computer monitors in her mind.
Then the sound of footsteps echoed in the distance.
She didn't turn to face them immediately.
More than one in the group. They qere marching in sync from the sound it was nothing unusual for them to be in a formation, so she had a general idea of who they are.
Raven narrowed her eyes.
"Of course," she said under her breath. "Take action after she already cleaned the zombie hoard up. How human."
A quick thought sent a command to her backpack.
Tiny plant spores flew up into the air from a side vent of her backpack, invisible to the naked eye, catching on the wind and dispersing silently around her. Dormant for now, but awaiting her command.
She finally turned to greet her guests.
Two dozen soldiers emerged from the far end of the lot, flanking a single man with a squared jaw and captain's bars on his collar. Their uniforms were tattered but intact. U.S. Army. Most held XM7 rifles, barrels pointed skyward, but fingers held near the triggers ready to be used.
They stopped ten meters away from her.
The man in front stepped forward.
"This is a restricted military facility," he said. "Identify yourself. Trespassing is punishable by criminal prosecution."
Raven stared at him flatly.
"Criminal prosecution?" she echoed. "You think that matters now?"
She swept a hand toward the ruined depot. "Zombies took your base. While you and your toy soldiers hid. Now you're playing gatekeeper after I've dealt with it for you."
The man's lip curled.
"I'm Captain Marcus Trenholm. This base is still U.S. property."
"No, Captain. This base is mine. Because I'm the one who cleared it. And by apocalypse law meaning, the only kind that matters now the person who kills the horde keeps the loot."
A young female soldier behind him leaned forward.
"Sir, is that true? Did she really kill them all herself?"
Trenholm turned. His hand slapped her face hard enough to echo across the parking lot.
"Are you stupid? It doesn't matter if it's true. We have the guns. She's got two drones. She is probably some kind of terrorist."
Raven's mouth shifted into a grim frown.
Her gaze swept over the soldiers. Some were shaky. Most looked barely out of training. One was holding their rifle backward.
And Trenholm… he is the kind of man who needs a now meaningless military rank to feel important.
The drones above her shifted subtly. Tightening their flight pattern around her.
The plant spores drifted on the wind. Into the faces of every soldier present as they breathed them into their bodies.
Raven didn't move. Her eyes never left Marcus.
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