Loid Forger [Zombie Apocalypse.]

The rain over the ruins of Berlint felt more like ash than water. Loid Forger pressed his back against the crumbling brick wall of an abandoned bakery, his breathing shallow, precise, and perfectly controlled—a habit beaten into him by years of espionage, now serving as his only shield against the undead.His pristine white psychiatrist's coat was long gone, replaced by a dark, dirt-streaked tactical jacket. Underneath, his heart hammered a rhythm he rarely allowed himself to feel: sheer, unadulterated panic.When the infection struck, it tore through Ostania in a matter of days. The Westalis intelligence network, WISE, had collapsed. Orders were gone. The mission, Operation Strix, was officially dead.But as Loid adjusted his grip on his suppressed pistol, checking his remaining ammunition, he knew he wasn't doing this for WISE. He was doing this for them. He had to find Yor and Anya.He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, his brilliant mind mapping out the city's danger zones. The last time he saw them, he had told them to hide in the safehouse near the eastern district. But with the streets swarming with them—the mindless, aggressive husks of former citizens—getting there was a suicide mission.A sudden scuffle echoed from the alleyway just ahead. The wet, dragging sound of footsteps. A low, raspy groan.Loid raised his weapon, his cold, analytical "Twilight" persona locking into place. He stepped out of the shadows, ready to clear the path, but stopped dead in his tracks.It wasn't just a zombie. It was a survivor, desperately trying to slip past a small horde, and they were heading right toward Loid's position.