Thomas raised a fist, signaling a halt. Shadow Team immediately froze, dropping into cover behind rusted pipes and concrete barriers. The refinery's industrial skeleton loomed over them—abandoned scaffolding, towering chimneys, and sprawling catwalks stretched into the darkness. The air carried the scent of stale fuel, rusted metal, and something else… something rotten.
He switched to a low whisper over comms. "Shadow 2, overwatch, get eyes inside."
One of the operators, perched on a higher vantage point, pulled out a monocular and peered through the broken windows of the main processing building.
"Movement inside, one floor up. Can't confirm what, but it's there. No heat signatures."
Cold bodies. The infected.
Thomas tapped Phillip's shoulder. "We're going in. Stack up."
The team moved in formation, hugging the refinery's steel walls as they approached the entrance. Shadow 3 and Shadow 4 covered the rear, rifles aimed at the darkness beyond.
