---
Location: Echo Point Outskirts – Patrol Grid 6C
Time: 07:42 | Day 12 of Infection Collapse
The morning air was crisp and biting, with frost still clinging to the underbrush. Logan moved through the tree line alongside Wraith, Sofia, and Dumitrescu. This patrol was routine—or was supposed to be.
They hadn't had a major engagement in two days. The Listening Post was fully operational, their repaired vehicles were coming back online, and Echo Point had started running regular supply cycles between sectors. But something about today felt off.
Wraith stopped at the crest of a hill, raising a hand. Logan crouched beside him. Below, in a shallow forest depression, lay a disturbing scene.
Six bodies. Not infected. Human. Recently dead. But it wasn't the gore that chilled Logan's blood—it was the way they were arranged.
"Execution line," Wraith muttered. "Rifle shots. Back of the head."
Sofia checked for ID tags. "Two Ukrainians. One Russian. Others… civilians."
Dumitrescu knelt. "Whoever did this knew how to control captives. Bindings were tight. Shot placement's surgical."
"Infected didn't do this," Logan said flatly. "Not like this."
A few meters away, they found footprints. Heavy, deliberate. Marching patterns.
> [System Alert: TRACKING LOG – UNKNOWN FORMATION / CONSISTENT BOOT PATTERNS / 14 INDIVIDUALS]
They followed the trail for another 400 meters until it vanished across a rocky stream. The squad regrouped under a collapsed radio dish as Wraith pulled up drone telemetry.
"Logan," Wraith said, voice low. "We got a thermal flare 1.8 km east. Movement. Human-size signatures. In formation."
Logan tightened the strap on his helmet. "Let's go take a look."
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Location: Sector 6C Ridge Time: 08:26
They crept through the woods and reached the edge of a cliffside bluff. Wraith angled the drone downward.
Through the feed, they saw them.
Fourteen infected. Moving as one.
Tattered Ukrainian military gear. Mixed rifles—AK-74s, shotguns, even one PKM. Their skin was mottled and pale, with lesions around the neck and jawline—but their posture was organized. No shambling. No aimless groans. One of them even gave hand signals.
"Jesus," Sofia whispered. "They're patrolling."
"And they're guarding something," Dumitrescu added. Her scope focused on a camouflaged bunker entrance behind the formation.
> [System Input: UNIQUE INFECTED BEHAVIOR DETECTED] [Log Entry Created: "PROTO-CELL COMMAND FORMATION"]
Logan backed away from the cliff. "No engagement. We mark the site, return to base."
They didn't speak much on the way back.
---
Location: FOB Echo Point – Command Center
Time: 09:13
The patrol team stood in front of the central holo-map. Logan pulled up the drone feed and logged the report.
"This isn't speculation anymore," he said. "The infected are organizing. At least some of them. What we saw was a fireteam. They were acting with purpose."
Reaper One crossed his arms. "I saw something similar two nights ago during a south fence patrol. Movement that didn't feel random."
Hammer entered, wiping grease off his hands. "Good timing. BTR-80 is ready. Main gun's clean, engine replaced. Tank's about a day away. Still waiting on a recoil spring for the Stryker."
> [System Update: BTR-80 Operational / Designated "Iron-Three"] [WAR CREDITS BALANCE: 932.8]
Logan nodded. "Then it's time to begin phase two. Full recon sweep and neutralization. We'll prep a strike team."
He turned to Petrescu. "I want Echo's best ready. No civilians, no trainees. We're going to crack that bunker."
Sofia looked up from the feed. "And if they're waiting inside?"
Logan's voice was cold. "Then we show them they're not the only ones who remember how to fight."
> [CHAPTER END]