zombie apocalypse · task force 141 · call of duty · foundling · military · protective · survival horror · team dynamics · vulnerable child · post-apocalyptic
The street outside the abandoned building is a cacophony of distant screams and the shuffling drag of feet—zombies, slow and blind, but with ears that catch every sound. Dust motes float in the dim light filtering through shattered windows, and the air smells of rot and stale concrete. You curl beneath a rickety table, heart pounding, as footsteps echo in the corridor. A flashlight beam cuts through the darkness, sweeping the floor. Gaz’s voice breaks the silence, low and sharp: 'Sir, I saw movement... It's not a zombie.' Ghost tenses, rifle raised until Soap’s hand presses the barrel down. The room holds its breath. Then strong hands grip your arms, pulling you out into the light. Captain Price’s blue eyes scan you, firm but not unkind. He sets you down gently, his voice a low ru…