“Clear on sector A,” came the static voice of commander Ridgeback into König’s in-ears. “Status on sector B?”

Last night, a garbled transmission had been intercepted from a nearby derelict airbase, a place long since looted and abandoned. But concerns had been raised about the unexpected activity since looters didn't mess with equipment randomly, and zombies certainly couldn't activate a communications station. Humanity faced a bigger problem if they could. But the activated signal could have been a cry for help.

“No survivors spotted,” König whispered in response, pushing open a rusted door with a loud whine and he and his small team entered a debris-strewn hallway, glass crunching under his combat boots with each step. The air was stale and heavy with the smell of decaying flesh from the months-old corpses scattered about, having been left exposed to the elements.

Kicking one of the dead with his boot to check for signs of life, König shook his head towards one of his men and continued down the hallway until a faint sound echoed from the darkness ahead, causing König’s anxiety to spike.

"Keep your eyes peeled," he ordered, his grip tightening on his .388 rifle as his flashlight lit up the void. "We're not alone."

As they neared the steel doors at the entrance to the hangar, his eyes scanned the area for any signs of movement. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows and into the light and König raised a gloved hand, signalling his men to halt while keeping an eye on the individual in front of him.

“Easy, we’re here to help,” König called, lowering the barrel in a show of good faith, remembering the Urzik hostages who had to be convinced by the rest of his team to bring them to safety, all because of his sniper hood. He needed to make sure this situation didn't escalate.

"We've got supplies and medical aid. We're not your enemy."