Next came the one who had suggested killing Nikolai. Yep, I'd guessed right—he was fully uniformed. While his colleagues had some exposed areas of skin (especially the women—why?), this one was completely covered, even wearing something like night-vision goggles over his eyes. Two others followed him into the passageway.
"Hey, Reveller, you're in the way. Move aside," said a petite figure in a polite tone.
Hoo~, another woman—but the one she was addressing was really big.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied jokingly, and the girl with the most open face passed through the doorway first. Only the lower half of her face was covered by an urban-style air purifier; the rest was open. Oh, no, it's just that the upper part of the mask was transparent. Otherwise, it was the same model as the captain's.
Following her into the passageway was a burly man, about two meters tall, literally wrapped in a cartridge harness over his uniform. His face and head were also covered by a mask, but you could tell it was reinforced. Only two blue eyepieces—like gas mask lenses—remained visible, through which you could probably see his eyes and part of his face. Why probably? Because I couldn't see clearly from where I was; I was, to put it mildly, quite far away.
Bringing up the rear was someone roughly my build, holding a knife and a pistol. In addition to his standard uniform, he wore a sturdy-looking black-and-gray jacket with a hood. At that point, I'd made up my mind about my target: I really wanted to apply the law of looters to the man in the rear and take his jacket to replace mine. And his skills with a pistol and a knife—the easiest weapons to come by in the city—would be useful. Since he held them ready rather than clipped to his uniform like the others, it was safe to assume they were his primary weapons, which meant his proficiency with them was likely quite high.
Suddenly, the guy with the goggles began turning from side to side, bringing his rifle up into position. Was he having some kind of psychotic episode? No—I would've understood if he'd noticed me, but he hadn't raised his head, and I was hanging right above him. To spot me, he'd have to tilt his head fully upward, and that's not an instantaneous motion. I'd have about a second—an eternity at my speed. Enough time to escape if needed. For now, though, I watched with interest.
"What's the matter, Ghost?" the commander asked, raising her rifle.
Heh. Interesting call sign.
"My instruments show an infected person where I'm standing, but he's not there," the owner of the goggles replied curtly.
"So, since you spotted him, maybe I can set off a little boom?" the big guy—Reveller—laughed.
Heh. He really was a merry fellow. The nickname suited him, even if his jokes were corny. At least they were something.
"Enough chatter. Move forward with caution. There are plenty of floors here, so the infected could be above us or below. What's the threat spectrum?"
First, she established discipline—and it was hard to argue with that commanding voice. Then she asked the question. Yes, she was definitely in charge.
"Red," Ghost—the master of words—answered briefly.
And the entire squad headed upstairs. They passed the second floor, and after a short exchange—where the commander suggested clearing it and Ghost insisted they go higher if they didn't want to leave a red-level threat behind—they continued upward, but not for long.
Why so? Because the space between the second and third floors was so tightly barricaded with furniture that it was impossible to pass through—unless you could move along walls and ceilings.
The squad realized this and returned to the entrance of the second floor, where Ghost once again warned them about zombies behind the door. Meanwhile, I began a leisurely descent. I had no intention of staying there any longer. Yes, it was risky, and their devices could detect me—but it was worth it. Especially since it was obvious that zombies weren't a familiar enemy to this squad. Anyone who'd encountered a situation like mine would have started checking the walls and ceiling. After all, even moderately experienced fighters had already dealt with Lickers—and they moved the same way I did.
The main striking force of the group—Reveller—was the first to enter the floor. By the way, when he climbed a little higher, toward the barricade, I finally realized what had been bothering me about his appearance. I hadn't seen any heat signature on his left leg. It seems like he has a prosthetic limb. But judging by the zombies' howls and the confident crossfire he was laying down, you couldn't call him weak. He moved with complete assurance, so exploiting that supposed weakness was out of the question.
My goal remained the same. Besides, the big guy's clothes wouldn't fit me anyway.
So, let's crawl, Alex —and learn how to fight and stalk without being noticed.