Pandora settled into silence as the sun sank toward the western horizon.
Its golden hue reflected across Dmitri's sullen face. Below him, the special-infected corpses had been gathered together, limbs piled where they fit and torsos twisted at impossible angles.
"Echo Actual, this is Echo Two. Do you copy?"
Dmitri reached for his communications device; his gaze fixed intently on the pit.
"Give me a sitrep, Echo Two."
"Southern portion has been scoured. No signs of HVT or zeds. We got some large footprints though. Might be Big Foot's lair."
"Copy, Echo Two. RTB in five minutes. Sun's going low."
"Roger your last. Echo Two, out."
The channel went quiet. Dmitri turned to the Army Soldiers carrying more corpses in from the surrounding streets.
"Burn them down once all corpses are gathered. We don't want any infection going around here."
"Yes, platoon leader."
