Lille – 5:00 AM
Rose was frozen, stunned by what had just happened. Bravo team's radio had abruptly cut off after a series of inhuman screams. A heavy silence fell over Alpha team as they moved through the dark, cold streets of Lille. Each soldier tried to suppress the worst thoughts: being trapped in a contaminated alley with no escape.
Captain Marchand's voice suddenly broke the oppressive atmosphere with a new radio transmission:
— Alpha team, this is command. Mission cancelled. Assist Bravo. Over and out.
Lille – 5:30 AM
The approach to the hospital proved more difficult than expected. The streets were deserted, but the heartbreaking screams of the infected echoed in the distance, like ominous whispers in the night. The sergeant, leading the unit, suddenly raised his fist, signaling for an immediate halt. A few meters away, a solitary figure swayed in the darkness.
— Civil?... Infected?... he murmured.
As they approached, he noticed the uniform of a soldier, torn and covered in blood. The body suddenly turned, revealing a face unrecognizable, half decomposed, letting out a demonic scream.
— FIRE! yelled the sergeant.
The gunshots rang out in the night, bullets hitting the already dead body of the creature, which finally collapsed after a well-placed shot to the head. Once the calm returned, Rose rushed to the radio, her hands shaking.
— Alpha to HQ! We've got infected here! We need reinforcements and a drone urgently! What the hell are you doing with the armored vehicles?!
No response. The radio didn't even crackle. It was as if something was blocking all communications. The sergeant, who had been stoic until now, began to show signs of weakness. He massaged his head, eyes closed, as if overcome by a violent migraine. Rose approached him.
— Serge, are you okay?
This old non-commissioned officer, nearing fifty, struggled to stand. Eyes closed, the man who was known for his unshakable composure was gripped by terror.
— An... angel. A fucking angel of death... Our angel...
Rose's eyes widened, silent, mouth agape as the screams of the infected grew louder. Before she could say anything, one of the soldiers shouted again.
— BOSS! WHAT DO WE DO?
She snapped back to her senses and gritted her teeth.
— Tie him up, and let's move! Three teams: two in front, two behind, me and the medic in the center. We move out. Shoot anything that moves. GO!
The unit quickly reorganized and resumed their march through the streets of Lille, heading north.