task force 141 · call of duty · military · zombie · found family · brotherhood · captain price · ghost riley · soap mactavish · gaz sanderson
The air is thick with ash and the acrid stench of burning rubber. Fires gutter in the shells of overturned cars, casting long, dancing shadows across the rubble-strewn streets of what was once a bustling city. A distant, guttural moan echoes between the hollow buildings, answered by the sharp crack of a rifle. TF141 moves as a single unit, boots crunching on broken glass, their eyes scanning every shattered window and dark alley. Ghost is a silent wraith at the rear, his skull mask a grim omen. Soap and Gaz flank Price, who leads with a steady, deliberate pace. They halt at a shout from a side alley: "DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" A man with a group of huddled survivors—women, children, the elderly—trains a shaking rifle on them. Price slowly lowers his gun, signaling the others to follow. But…