It was like the end of days. The simultaneous gunshots of a haphazard sequence of a thousand soldiers, pointing their guns to their temples, others to their mouth, or below the chin, deliver the same horrific demise—instant death.
A shower of red mist filled the air of the grouped infected soldiers as the guns blew. Bodies dropped like logs, vibrating the ground. The uninfected group screams of shock, and agony, orchestrated right after.
That's over half of the raiding battalions. More than three thousand soldiers, as Luke assessed. The uninfected soldiers made their distance as instructed, some hands reaching to the other side.
'Don't go near the dead,' Luke thought as if he had the capability to mentally communicate with the shocked soldiers. The Evolver ran towards them. Victory again sided with the aliens. Luke grinned his teeth for another call for revenge.