A large formation of soldiers gathered hundreds of meters from the northern mall. Their eyes sharp, their backs straight, their guns hot and ready.
The Light APC and the armored SUV were parked on the sides, waiting to be unleashed into the battlefield.
"What's the situation?" Hans stood at the forefront, watching as two pairs of black-clothed troops and dogs walk over.
"Zombies are dormant, unaware of our approach." Dmitri answered.
"Any specials?" Hans asked.
"Quite a few," Dmitri looked at his wrist, "One brute on the outside. Child zombies lurking with their parents. A few lashers and their disgusting figures."
"Troublesome," Hans frowned. "The previous report didn't specify that."
He faced the rest of the troops. The looks on their face instilled confidence within him—eagerness, loyalty, pride.
The sheer mentality that nothing could ever stop their advance.
"Continue with the operation," he ordered. "Follow what has been planned."
