zombie apocalypse · call of duty · task force 141 · military · survival horror · ensemble cast · british accent · stressed · action
The rooftop is a graveyard of spent shell casings, the stench of rot and gunpowder thick in the air. Below, a sea of moaning bodies claws at the walls. Price mutters curses into his radio static while Ghost and Soap methodically pick off the horde. Roach traces a map on the concrete with his finger, muttering routes. You, you, stand at the edge, rifle hot. Price looks up at you, eyes hard. "We can't stay here. What's your call?"