Atlanta had once been a city of noise.
Traffic. Sirens. People rushing through sidewalks while staring at their phones.
Now it was silent.
The only sounds that remained were the slow dragging footsteps of the dead and the occasional distant gunshot from desperate survivors.
Alex Mercer—now known among the soldiers as Ghost—walked at the front of the group.
His black tactical mask hid his face completely, the red lenses reflecting the ruined city around them.
Behind him walked Sergeant Cole, Jackson, and Ramirez.
Four soldiers.
One leader.
And an entire city filled with danger.
Cole glanced at the skyline ahead.
"You ever been to Atlanta before?"
Ghost answered calmly.
"No."
Jackson walked beside a line of abandoned cars.
"Hard to believe this place collapsed in a few days."
Ramirez kicked an empty soda can out of the street.
"That's what happens when people panic."
Ghost suddenly raised his hand.
The group stopped instantly.
Cole whispered.
"What is it?"
Ghost pointed toward a grocery store across the street.
The glass windows were broken.
Inside, shelves had been knocked over.
But through the darkness, several shapes moved slowly.
Walkers.
Ramirez counted quietly.
"One… two… three… four…"
Jackson finished.
"Six."
Cole looked at Ghost.
"Orders?"
Ghost studied the environment.
The grocery store entrance was narrow.
The walkers were slow.
And food supplies inside the building were extremely valuable.
"We clear them."
Jackson cracked his neck.
"Finally."
The group moved quietly toward the entrance.
The first walker turned toward them and groaned.
Its skin was pale and rotten.
Its jaw hung slightly loose.
Ghost moved first.
His knife flashed forward with surgical precision.
Walker Eliminated
+1 Supply Point
The next walker stumbled forward.
Cole fired a single suppressed shot.
Walker Eliminated
Ramirez stepped forward and drove his combat knife into another skull.
Within seconds, the store fell silent again.
Jackson looked around.
"Clear."
Cole nodded.
"Alright. Let's see what's left."
They began searching the store carefully.
Most of the shelves had already been looted.
But not everything.
Ramirez opened a storage door in the back.
"Well… look at that."
Boxes of canned food.
Bottled water.
Energy bars.
Jackson grinned.
"That's a month of supplies."
Cole looked impressed.
"Good find."
Ghost silently opened the system interface.
MISSION PROGRESS UPDATED
Survivor Unit Strength Increased
Supply Points: 18
Resources Secured: Food Supplies
Progress: 55%
The system was clearly rewarding organized scavenging.
Interesting.
Ghost closed the interface.
Jackson was stacking supplies into backpacks.
"You know… if we keep finding places like this, we might actually survive."
Ramirez snorted.
"Don't jinx it."
Suddenly a loud crash echoed from the front of the store.
Everyone froze.
Cole whispered.
"What was that?"
Jackson slowly approached the front entrance.
Then he looked outside.
"…Oh crap."
Cole moved beside him.
Outside the store, nearly twenty walkers were gathering in the street.
Drawn by the earlier gunshot.
Ramirez cursed quietly.
"That escalated quickly."
Cole turned to Ghost.
"Suggestions?"
Ghost studied the situation.
Fighting them directly would waste ammunition.
And time.
Instead he pointed toward the back exit.
"Leave."
Cole nodded instantly.
"Good call."
The group grabbed as many supplies as possible and moved quickly through the rear storage room.
The back alley was narrow and empty.
For now.
They slipped outside and moved quickly between buildings.
Jackson exhaled.
"Man… that could've gone bad."
Ramirez adjusted his backpack.
"At least we got food."
Cole glanced toward Ghost.
"You planning to build a base somewhere?"
Ghost thought for a moment.
"Yes."
Cole looked interested.
"Where?"
Ghost answered simply.
"Not here."
Atlanta was too dangerous.
Too many walkers.
Too much chaos.
Eventually they would need to leave the city.
But first…
They needed more resources.
More weapons.
And maybe more survivors.
Because a unit of four people was not enough to survive the apocalypse.
Ghost stopped walking.
The others stopped with him.
Cole raised an eyebrow.
"What now?"
Ghost looked toward the distant skyscrapers of central Atlanta.
Smoke rose from several districts.
Somewhere inside that chaos…
The system wanted him to go.
"We move toward downtown."
Jackson groaned.
"You really like dangerous places."
Ramirez shrugged.
"Hey, at least life isn't boring anymore."
Cole smiled slightly.
"Well Ghost… lead the way."
The group continued forward through the ruined streets.
None of them realized that destiny was slowly guiding them toward something important.
A hospital.
A tank.
And a sheriff's deputy who would soon wake up to a world of the dead.
A man named Rick Grimes.