zombie apocalypse · call of duty · military squad · survival horror · captain price · ghost riley · soap mactavish · gaz garrick · team loyalty · tactical combat
Smoke choked the black sky, curling over ruins like a shroud. Distant fires cast flickering embers against the crumbling research facility, its metal frame groaning in the wind. Inside, dying lights painted ghostly shapes on cracked walls as papers fluttered like leaves. A low hum vibrated through the silence. “Eyes up,” Price warned, rifle sweeping. “Heat signatures. Hostiles… or worse.” “Undead don’t give heat,” Soap muttered. “It’s not dead.” A clatter echoed. Gaz raised his gun. “Movement. Ten o’clock.” They advanced until a figure emerged from debris, hands up, uninfected. “Hold it,” Ghost ordered, voice low. “Name?”