With the final truck passing through the opening in the fence, the JLTVs laid down a last burst of suppressive fire, breaking off their engagement with the oncoming horde. One by one, they reversed and rolled through the opening, falling in behind the column to lock down the convoy's rear.
Fort Benning fading into the distance behind them,with the restless dead shrinking in the mirrors. Ahead, the road stretched out toward the interstate.
Price leaned forward in the passenger seat, his eyes flicking from the side mirror to the road ahead. He reached for the Humvee's radio handset, giving the cord a quick tug.
"Soap, Ghost, Gaz — give me a sitrep. How's our six?" Price's voice was calm but carried that low, gravelly authority that made you listen whether you wanted to or not.
Static cracked for a moment before Soap's voice came back, thick with his Scottish lilt.
"Convoy's clean for now, Captain. Few dead ones trailin' way back, but nothin' worth losin' sleep over."
Ghost cut in next, his tone flat but alert.
"Eyes on a couple of stragglers trying to keep pace. Gunners are handling it."
Then Gaz's voice, a touch lighter.
"Rear's secure. Nothing back here's getting through without catching a fifty-cal to the face."
Price gave a short nod, pressing the transmit again.
"Good. Keep your spacing tight and your barrels warm. Last thing we need is somethin' getting clever on us."
Soap chuckled over the net. "If one of 'em starts thinkin', Price, I'll put it down meself."
"See that you do," Price replied dryly, hanging the handset back on its hook. He looked to Andrew, his expression serious beneath the brim of his boonie hat.
"Rear's good. Let's keep going."
Andrew gave a nod keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, the Humvee's suspension groaning over every pothole. On one side of the interstate, a town lay in ruins ,shopfronts gutted, cars left at awkward angles like they'd been abandoned mid-flight, and the occasional blackened husk of a building that had clearly been set alight during the panic. A pair of walkers shambled along the sidewalk, too far to be a concern, their slow swaying movements barely registering against the destruction.
From the passenger seat, Captain Price was quiet at first, watching the world pass by through the dusty glass. Then he glanced sideways at Andrew, the brim of his boonie hat shadowing his eyes.
"So… Army Ranger, now wearin' a Guard patch," Price said, his voice low but carrying that familiar gravel. "That's not a sideways move you make without a story."
Andrew gave a small nod. "Not much to it. I was injured during a deployment."
Price raised an eyebrow. "Afghanistan? Iraq?"
Remembering what he read on the discharge papers, Andrew answered . "Afghanistan. Helmand Province. Operation to clear out an insurgent compound. Took some shrapnel in my leg when we got pinned down."
Price's eyes narrowed slightly. "Sounds like a right party."
"Yeah. Ended up being honorably discharged," Andrew continued. "When everything went to hell, I was in Atlanta. We encountered a National Guard unit on our way to a safe zone . Offered them some help… and information."
Price leaned back, folding his arms. "Information?"
Andrew kept his eyes on the road. "Not much , told them to aim for the head. And that if someone's bitten, they're done for. Turns out… that last part might not be completely true."
Price tilted his head. "What d'you mean, 'not completely true'? And while we're at it—how the hell did you know about the headshot bit before the rest of us figured it out?"
Andrew , weighted his words. "Because I'd already run into a few of the infected. Before it all got out of control."
The National Guard CO in Atlanta. He reinstated me , put me on as National Guard officer. Figured my prior experience might help."
Price studied him for a moment, then gave a short nod, signalling him to go on.
Andrew's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. "We were escorting a group of civilians—outside the city. Raiders hit us. We fought them off, but… the dead raiders got back up. None of them had bite marks. No signs they'd been sick before. Just… dead one minute, walking the next."
Price exhaled slowly through his nose. "So it's not just the bites ."
Andrew shot him a sidelong glance. " Yeah , i got a theory that we might all be infected. "
Price raised an eyebrow . "Bloody hell. We thought we were dealing with one nightmare. Turns out it's two." He reached up, adjusted his hat. "Alright then, Sergeant Mercer. Suppose we'll file that under 'cheerful news' for the day."
They drove on in silence for a moment, passing another stretch of the town where a bank's facade had collapsed into the street, rubble spilling into the road like broken teeth. A dog barked somewhere in the distance, the sound carrying unnaturally far in the dead air.
Price finally broke the quiet again, glancing back at the rest of the convoy in the side mirror. "Just so you know… you've got my attention now. I'll be expectin' the rest of that story once we're behind a few more walls."
Andrew gave a faint, knowing smirk. "I'm sure you will, Captain."
...
They eventually reached the main gates of the resort, guarded by two soldiers. Andrew slowed the Humvee as they approached, and the soldiers immediately swung the gates open, clearly surprised by the size of the convoy and the number of people it carried.
Andrew led the vehicles into the parking area. Once they stopped, people began disembarking—Army Rangers, regular Army personnel, both Ramirez , Mason, Dawson and a few civilians. The JLTVs were parked apart from the transport vehicles, their heavy turrets drawing the attention of both civilians and soldiers that were already at the resort . Stepping forward, Andrew directed the two trucks loaded with ammunition and equipment to be moved to a separate location from the rest of the vehicles.
Then Captain Price stopped beside Andrew . Behind them ,approaching were Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Nikolai .
Price gave the resort's fence a long, appraising look, tugging on his glove.
"Iron bars… better than nothing, but it won't hold if that lot outside decide to pile up on it. Seen mobs push through worse."
Andrew gave a small nod.
"I was planning to reinforce it. But after what I saw today… I've got something else in mind."
Gaz, curious, tilted his head.
"And what's that then, sarge?"
Andrew looked at the fence again..
"A wall. Concrete, all the way around. Thick enough to make sure that nothing will breach it , high enough so nothing manages to climbs it without being noticed . We've got the manpower to do it… and a few other things I'll bring up later."
Soap smirked. "Concrete walls, aye? Sounds like you're turnin' this place into Fort Knox, mate."
"Considering how some of those walkers acted, I'd say we need better than Fort Knox." Responded Andrew.
After that Andrew started thinking , it seems that the TWD and CoD universes merged somehow and from how the walkers acted ,we need to prepare better defences . I just hope that there is no dark aether from CoD zombies here .
Nikolai suddenly sniffed the air, squinting.
"Either I am very hungry… or someone is cooking something very good."
Soap grinned.
"Aye, I wouldn't say no to a bite myself."
Gaz smirked faintly.
"Long as it's not another MRE, I'm in."
Ghost's dry voice came from behind his mask.
"As long as it's not moving, I'll eat it."
Price chuckled under his breath.
"Right, let's see what's on the menu before Nik starts gnawin' on the furniture."
Turning toward the hotel, they saw several people who'd worked around the hotel were heading inside. From the main entrance, Corporal Whitaker and Specialist Diego emerged, each carrying a tray—on it, a bowl and a plate with food, a chunk of bread, and utensils.
Andrew, Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Nikolai, moved to meet them. Whitaker gave Andrew a quick nod.
"Sergeant. We were taking these up to the boys on guard duty , their shifts began not long ago . Before you got back, we decided those who can cook would be put on kitchen duty to keep everyone fed. I've already had them start making extra portions, considering the number of people you brought in."
Andrew nodded.
"Good. We'll head inside—haven't eaten a thing since this morning , myself."
Andrew walked over to the soldiers and the few civilians still lingering by the vehicles they had arrived in. He told them food was ready and to follow him inside. They nodded in acknowledgment. Leading the group, Andrew made his way into the building, following the scent of cooking to the ballroom which has been repurposed into a makeshift mess hall. Additional tables had been brought in and arranged with enough space between them to seat everyone comfortably while still allowing people to move freely.
The group moved into the line, trays in hand. The smell of warm food filled the air—simple fare, but in the middle of everything that was happening, it was almost a luxury.
Price eyed the food as the server ladled a generous portion of stew onto his plate. "Well now… not bad at all. Could almost pass for a proper mess meal if you squint."
Soap took his tray with a grin. "Smells miles better than whatever we had this past week."
Gaz leaned over slightly to look at the bread basket. "Fresh bread? Now that's a sight for sore eyes."
Ghost, standing behind them, stayed quiet, only giving a slow approving nod as he caught the scent of the food.
Nikolai leaned forward in line, sniffing the air. "Hmph… smells better than anything I've had in months. Maybe they even used seasoning, da?"
Andrew glanced at them over his shoulder. "Trust me, after today, you'll think this is a five-star meal."
When they reached the end of the line, they moved toward a table near the wall, instinctively choosing a position with a clear view of the entrance. Andrew placed his MP5 leaning against the wall behind him, Price kept his rifle slung low at his side, close enough to grab. Soap leaned his weapon against the chair leg with the sling looped over his ankle. Gaz kept his carbine across his lap, Ghost rested his between his knees, muzzle down and Nikolai laid his AK carefully along the wall next to his seat, close enough to grab in an instant.
Price took a spoonful of the stew, chewing thoughtfully before giving a small, satisfied nod. "Not bad at all… I'd take this over half the field rations I've had."
Soap smirked, tearing a piece of bread. "Aye, and you can actually tell what's in it. That's already a win."
Gaz chuckled. "And it's seasoned. That alone makes it a bloody feast."
Andrew gave a small nod, settling in with his own plate. " With how things are devolving , meals like those will be a luxury ."
Soap jabbed his spoon into the stew with a grin. "Then let's eat before someone or something decides to ruin it."
Ghost hooked a finger under the lower edge of his mask, tugging it up just enough to clear his mouth. He took a bite, then let it fall back into place in one smooth, practiced motion.
He grunted in agreement.
...
They'd only made it halfway through their plates before the conversation shifted to the discussion Andrew and Price had on the way here. Price leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over it, and gave the others a brief run-through of what he and Andrew had discussed in the Humvee. Andrew picked it up from there, his tone steady but not sugar-coating.
"After the ambush went south for 'em," he said, "most of the raiders bolted. But we found one… trapped in a closet with a walker scratching at the door. Pulled him out before it got him and with a little persuasion , he gave us their base location." He gestured loosely toward the walls around them. "Place we're in now used to be theirs."
Soap blinked, lowering his fork."So this was their base, eh? Guess they won't be needin' the place anymore. Hope you changed the sheets before invitin' us in."
Gaz smirked and leaned forward. "Cleared 'em out and took over? Not exactly the National Guard handbook ."
Price gave a quiet grunt of approval. "Effective, though. Works for me."
Nikolai chuckled, his accent thick. "In my country, we call this… redecorating. You keep the building, just change the owners."
Ghost stayed quiet, eyes flicking between the speakers as he took another bite, mask shifted just enough to eat.
Andrew allowed himself a faint smile. "It wasn't pretty work, but it was necessary , they would have become a bigger problem in the future . And now this place ours and there's work to be done."
Soap shook his head, grinning. "Aye, mate… remind me never to be on the wrong end of your hospitality."
Andrew chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "I've given you my side. Now it's your turn."
Price took a slow sip from his cup before setting it down with a dull thud. "Fair enough. We were en route to Washington. Had business with someone high up the food chain… the kind of bloke who doesn't usually come down to our level unless it's somethin' big." He didn't say the name, but Andrew knew that was Shepherd , Price was referring to . "Future op in the works. One of those… needs-to-happen-before-the-world-goes-to-hell jobs. Well—" his mouth twitched into a humorless smirk, "—looks like the world didn't wait."
Soap shook his head. "Aye, that's one way to put it. We had to put down in Benning, and next thing we know, it's all gone pear-shaped."
Gaz leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Fort was already feelin' the strain when we landed. Lotta confusion, no clear picture. Then it just… unraveled. Fast."
Price's eyes narrowed slightly. "We've been tryin' to keep our heads above water since. Keep our kit intact, and stay bloody alive long enough to figure out what's next."
What about Washington?" Andrew asked. "Still heading there?"
Price shook his head. "Lost contact with everyone we had in D.C. And back home in the UK… things aren't any better. So, with no other option, we'll be stayin' here—helpin' where we can." He gestured toward the walls of the ballroom . "Looks to me like you've got a grip on things here… and a plan brewin'. We'll back your play, see it through."
Soap leaned back in his chair with a half-smile. "Aye, long as your plan doesn't involve us sleepin' with one eye open every night, I'm in."
Gaz gave a short chuckle. "Yeah—not sure that i prefer buildin' walls to kickin' doors , but i'm not complaining."
Ghost remained silent, methodically finishing the last of his meal, the lower edge of his mask lifted just enough for each bite. He listened, but his gaze stayed fixed on Andrew—measuring, weighing.
Andrew nodded, trying to keep his expression steady, though a spark of excitement lit in his chest. He was sitting across from Captain Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Nikolai—legends in their own right—and they'd just offered their support. The fan in him wanted to grin like an idiot, but the soldier in him knew to keep focused.
"First thing," he began, leaning forward slightly, "we'll need to get patrols going. The resort's big, plenty of ground to cover, and until we start working on the walls,that fence will present a risk of something slipping through. I've got more ideas for security, but now's not the time for all the details."
Price gave a slow nod, the brim of his boonie hat casting a shadow over his eyes. "Fair enough. I'll have a word with Major Griggs—he's the only one here with proper authority over the Rangers. We'll see about gettin' boots where they're needed."
"Good," Andrew replied. "Once everyone's had their fill, we'll meet and sort the rest out."
Price smirked faintly. "Right. Let the lads eat first—patrols run better on full stomachs."