Several days earlier.
"Sir look down there, left hand side of the street. There are two live human bodies there." The words from Mike muffled through the headsets of the men in the helicopter. The piolet was Martin and the co-piolet Jack, with Mike sat in the back scanning the areas below with his binoculars.
"Mark it on the map. We are above a place called Wheelback." Said Jack. Mike turned letting go of the binoculars so that they dangled from the rope he had attached to them around his neck. Mike picked up his pen and looked at the map in front of him until he spotted Wheelback and circled it, writing next to it: 2 humans. Females. Mike looked at the rest of his map, there was many circles on it but very few with the word's humans next to it, the majority had the word: Singer with the corresponding number of those spotted wrote next to it.
Sometime later the helicopter landed inside a military base somewhere further up north. The three men inside exited and entered an office located inside a large building and sat down with at a table covered in various maps and scribblings. At the head of the table sat a tall dark man with various medals hanging off his uniform. Lieutenant Gould.
"So, fellows. What have you got for me today."
Mike adjusted his posture and sat up straight.
"Nothing much Sir, More Infected spotted around the areas. Eight survivors spotted in Grey-side, from the looks of it four females and two males. Unfortunately, upwards of fourteen Infected spotted within a ten miles radius. Apart from that sir, the only other survivors spotted are two females from a town called Wheelback. Zero Infected spotted within a ten-mile radius of the town, Sir."
"Okay. Anything to add Jack and Martin?"
"No Sir."
"No Sir."
"Okay then. We gather a task force and plan out extracting the eight from Grey-side. We go to them first, injure as many Infected as possible but try and keep them alive if we can. Once the civilians are safe, we shall return and capture what we can. Then we will look at the two from Wheelback. Any objections?"
"No sir."
"No sir."
"No sir."
"At ease Gentlemen. Good work today."
YOU ARE READING
Singing of the dead (Novel one)
Teen FictionFXF. It is December 2032. Two years ago, an outbreak started causing people to turn rabid. The infected have earned themselves the nickname 'singers' as they roam around producing an almost opera like siren song. They either kill you with unrelentin...
