---
Location: FOB Echo Point – Outer Perimeter / Sector 4B
Time: 07:18 | Day 10 of Infection Collapse
The dawn mist hugged the ground like a low tide, muffling sound and cloaking movement. Echo Point was calm—for now. The wind blew cold and dry across the wire fencing, carrying the faint scent of ash and diesel.
Logan Hale stood outside the west gate, armored vest on, helmet clipped to his belt, M4 slung tight against his chest. The gate creaked as it opened, revealing the patrol team assembled before him.
Wraith, ever silent, ran a systems check on his drone controller. Sofia stood beside him, her new combat harness snug across her frame. Her rifle was secure, stance practiced. Behind them were Iulian and Dragan—the former calmly adjusting his optic sights, the latter checking the battery life on a GPS tracker. Rounding out the patrol was Dumitrescu herself, grim-faced but focused.
"Today we scout beyond the known line," Logan said, pointing to a grid overlay on his wrist display. "Sector 4B. Wooded terrain, two minor industrial zones, and possibly a fuel depot. Last drone sweep showed minimal movement."
Wraith's voice was calm but clipped. "Minimal isn't none."
"Which is why I want a clean sweep. Find survivors, salvage, and signs of intelligent infected behavior. We need intel."
Reaper One stood beside the gate, his heavy armor gleaming under the pale light. "Perimeter will hold," he said. "System sensors linked to auto-turrets and motion tripwires."
Logan nodded. "Good. You and Petrescu keep watch. We'll radio in every thirty minutes. If we're late—assume the worst."
---
Location: Sector 4B – North Ridge
Time: 08:04
The patrol moved through thick brush and over frost-cracked trails. Trees loomed like skeletons, stripped by wind and rot. The only sounds were boots on dirt, the occasional snap of a branch, and the buzz of Wraith's recon drone.
They kept a diamond formation—Logan leading, Wraith watching the flank, Sofia and Dragan covering the rear. Dumitrescu held the overwatch.
They reached the edge of a derelict gas station tucked beside the remnants of a rail line. The pumps were melted plastic, and scorch marks covered the walls.
Sofia crouched. "Tracks. Human. Dozens. And fresh."
Wraith launched the drone. It zipped upward, relaying thermal data.
> [Motion Detected – Grid 4B-Alpha]
[Thermal Reading: +14C]
[Possible Warm-Blooded Targets: 3]
"Movement. South slope," Wraith said. "Still. Maybe wounded. Maybe bait."
Logan scanned the hill through his scope. "Stack left. Sweep clean. No loose ends."
---
Location: Sector 4B-Alpha – Hillside Shack
Time: 08:21
A crumbling hunting shack sat among the brush. Logan approached first, M4 at the ready.
He raised his voice. "Inside. Hands up. We're not hostile."
Silence. Then the door creaked open.
A teenage girl stumbled out, arms raised. Behind her, an older man—early fifties, beard patchy—and a boy barely twelve. They looked tired but uninfected.
"You military?" the man asked. "You from the Echo signal?"
Logan nodded. "You're safe now. Come with us. Stay quiet."
They didn't argue.
---
Location: Return Path to Echo Point
Time: 09:34
They moved back in silence, the survivors kept between Dragan and Dumitrescu. Logan noticed the girl flinching at every noise. The boy just stared ahead.
Even Wraith seemed unsettled.
"Too quiet," he murmured. "Like the woods are holding their breath."
Logan didn't respond. He felt it too.
---
Location: FOB Echo Point – Arrival Gate
Time: 10:02
The gate opened with its usual metallic screech. Petrescu and Reaper One greeted them.
"No contact?" Petrescu asked.
"None," Logan said. "But we found survivors. Human. Organized."
He paused. "And we found too many footprints. Uniform. Heavy gear. If those were infected… they're thinking in squads now."
---
Location: Command Room
Time: 10:30
Inside the bunker, Logan uploaded the drone feed and recorded logs.
> [NEW ANALYSIS: INFECTED MOVEMENT PATTERNS: SQUAD-BASED FORMATION DETECTED]
[NODE ALPHA: RESPONSE LEVEL RISING]
[RECOMMENDATION: FORTIFY OUTPOST / ESTABLISH FORWARD LISTENING POST]
Wraith stared at the screen. "Tactics. Discipline. This isn't evolution. It's memory."
Dragan sat nearby, writing everything down in his notebook. "Maybe it's not just instinct. Maybe it's something else—like programming."
Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose. He hadn't slept more than four hours in two days.
"They're adapting faster than we can," he muttered.
The camera feed flickered.
Outside, Reaper One stood unmoving at the north wall, scanning the distance.
The silence had been scouted.
The war was about to speak again.
> [CHAPTER END]