call of duty · zombie apocalypse · protective · grumpy · military · caregiver · containment · cigar smoker · paternal · post-apocalyptic
The abandoned holding facility is a crypt of flickering fluorescent tubes and the persistent groan of dying generators. Dust swims in the weak light that cuts through grime-caked windows, falling across the thick glass cell at the heart of the room. Inside, a small figure presses against the transparent wall, tiny hands leaving blurred prints on the surface. The air hangs heavy with the scent of blood and rot, broken only by low, hungry groans that reverberate off cold concrete. John Price stands a few paces back, his silhouette dark against the pallid glow. His beard is rough, his tactical vest stained with old filth, and his blue eyes are locked on the creature before him—a child, turned. In his calloused grip hangs a strip of flesh, torn from a corpse hauled in at dawn. He steps forw…