Angus, a small town in Texas with a population of about 400, was in turmoil. Three months ago there was an epidemic in New York which spread like wildfire until the entire United States was affected by the sudden epidemic of this disease. The disease caused the neurons in the brain to begin activating again, causing the dead to be resurrected. The infection could also spread through the simple passage of body fluids such as blood or saliva from a simple bite. Now, some survivors fight every day to survive in this post-apocalyptic world. Secret organizations began to emerge as they too struggled to reach the next day as hordes of the roaming dead assaulted their facilities, attracted by the loud sounds within. One of these organizations was the Ghosts. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay Ghost Recon's four-man team, called Trackers, were in the field carrying out counter-terrorism duties in Texas when the coronavirus outbreak broke out. Ever since their long-range radio stopped working, they had gone dark and hidden in Angus, Texas, until they could safely return to base. But as time passed, they began to think that perhaps the base had fallen, and that returning would be too great a risk, so they decided not to return until they had concrete evidence that the base was still active. For now, they survived in the remote town of Angus, living off the supplies they could gather. “Hold your ground, Ghost Leader. There is a wild animal right outside that door.” “Copy that Fox. Let it fall." “Copy it.” Vixen rested the sniper rifle on her shoulder, looked carefully at the scope, and made any final adjustments to counteract any factors that would affect the shot. Humidity, wind strength and distance could cause the shot to miss the target, which would be very dangerous for them. It was midday on a bright, sunny day. The wind occasionally blew in strong gusts. The beast was outside the side exit of a large warehouse constructed mostly of corrugated steel sheets that Tracker was rummaging inside. The feral moved quickly, moving constantly as it sniffed the air and listened intently for sounds with its keen hearing. The Feral was essentially a cross between an infected human and an infected wolf or dog of some kind. They were one of the most dangerous infected variants that could be found. Vixen had made the adjustments by first inhaling and then exhaling. Then inside. Then BANG!Vixen felt the recoil of the gun, making its way into her shoulder as the bullet was forced out of the chamber and down the barrel. The suppressor reduced the noise of the shots, but it was not silent at all. The projectile flew through the air, curving slightly as the wind picked up. Then the wild animal's skull exploded in a mass of blood as the bullet penetrated and destroyed the beast's brain, causing it to go limp and collapse to the ground. As soon as his body fell to the ground, the side door exploded. it opened and three armed men rushed out, weapons ready and ready for any unseen assailants who might hide out of sight. Checking the corners and finding none, they quickly ran towards a red pickup truck parked nearby. The man leading the way was Ghost Lead, the leader of their team. Only he wore his standard combat uniforms and battle net, along with his trusty ballistic helmet. His weaponmain was a Vector SMG with attached silencer and red dot sight, painted matte black. In the holster hanging at his hip was a desert brown Beretta M9 pistol. Behind him was Spitfire. He was the team's engineer and heavy weapons expert. He wore a dark blue t-shirt and khaki jeans with a black cap and his primary weapon was an MP5K, while his prized M249 SAW was safely stored in the back of the truck. Since it is a powerful and loud weapon and could burn through their already dwindling ammunition supplies, they had all agreed to use it only as a last resort weapon. Strapped to his back was an M1014 rifle. At the rear of the group was Bandit. He wore ripped jeans with a gray T-shirt with a black hoodie and a black scarf wrapped around the bottom of his head, hiding the lower part of his face. It carried a Russian P-90 submachine gun with standard iron sights and a laser sight to assist in aiming. In a holster hanging at his hip was a Glock 19. When they reached the pickup, they each threw their duffel bags full of supplies in the back and Bandit climbed into the driver's seat while Ghost Lead jumped into the passenger seat and Spitfire jumped into the back with supplies. Almost immediately, the truck came to life and sped away from the warehouse. The noise of the truck always posed the risk of attracting more infected, but it was certainly safer to travel long distances than on foot. “Okay Vixen, we're leaving. I'll see you at the meeting point." Ghost Lead radioed Vixen. “Copy it. See you there, sir." Vixen replied as she stood up from her prone position. As the truck pulled away and around the warehouse, out of sight, Vixen jumped down onto the maintenance walkway around the water tower she'd been watching from, then slid off. the staircase to return to the ground floor. Vixen was wearing military pants and a red and black checked shirt with torn arms. He carried a heavy backpack on one shoulder with food and water, medicine and ammunition in case he was captured and isolated from the rest of the team. He carried his beloved M40 rifle with him wherever he went, and in the holster hanging at his hip was a Kimber Custom M1911 pistol. Like the others, he had a Ka-Bar combat knife strapped to his left leg. When he reached the base of the tower, he took off running toward a gas station about a half-mile away. Vixen arrived and the others were already waiting for him. Without a word, he climbed into the back and sat next to Spitfire as the truck pulled away and they headed back to the shelter that served as their base of operations. As they walked away, he shared a quick fist bump with Spitfire in thoughtful celebration of their successful treasure run. They encountered few infected on the way back as they traveled faster than most of them could run, with the exception of a wild animal that gave chase and Vixen had to waste a precious bullet from her gun to take it out before it could reach him. the back of the pickup. Once again, the bullet hit the beast directly in the center of the forehead. It was mid-afternoon when the Ghost Recon team returned to the safe house. They pulled into a parking lot outside a large yellow house with a large tower and a small courtyard in the center. They grabbed their bags of supplies, weapons, and equipment and made their way inside, carefully closing the gate behind them. As they entered the house, they placed their bags on a table in the first room, a large space with almost no furniture. They spent about two minutes taking the supplies they had retrieved from the bags and organizing them into cabinets and other containers. containers in the adjacent kitchen. "Here". Bandit said, nonchalantly tossing something from his duffle bag to Vixen. "YouI got this." Vixen grabbed the item and saw that it was an engine part from a dirt bike. "Thanks." Vixen smiled, before walking out of the rooms into a hallway, before turning into a garage. All Inside was a collection of tools and machine parts, but in the center was an old dirt bike, long gone from his racing days. He smiled as he got to work to add the new part to the bike. While the other three arranged the last remaining items, an attractive young brunette entered the room, smiling brightly as she watched them work. “Did you bring me any gifts?” he asked. “We certainly did.” Spitfire replied. “25 cans of food, 8 liters of water, 13 courses of antibiotics, a bag of seeds for our garden and some building materials.” "Exceptional!" she smiled, elated. “It's a great ride.” It will definitely keep us going for a while. But I really want to start renovating the house. I mean, we have a kitchen, bathroom, and sleeping area, and the tower is a great sniper tower, but I feel like we need to expand our facilities and improve our defenses. The barred windows might hold out a few infected, but they won't work against a horde of outlaws. “Do you really think there is anyone alive out there?” the Bandit asked, removing his scarf from his face. “It's possible. I prefer not to take the risk." She replied. “Okay, Nancy.” Ghost Lead said, his voice soft. “We'll get straight to the point. Any luck getting the radio to work?" “As usual, still no luck. I almost got the security cameras in the house to work, but I think we have a bad connection to the power lines." "OK. I'll turn to Bandit or Vixen for this. See if you can make it work tonight or tomorrow.” “Got it, boss!” greeting. They spent the rest of the afternoon tending the garden and adding rolls of barbed wire to the wall surrounding the house. Bandit went out alone on a high-risk mission to try to restore a stable connection to the main power line, which he successfully accomplished without incident. Vixen was only missing a few parts to make the bike work and the garden was coming along well, the fertile soil giving way to a healthy supply of edible plants. As night fell, Vixen took her first watch in the sniper tower while Nancy, the team's assistant since they had been active, worked tirelessly to get the surveillance system operational again. Even though power had been restored to the house, they still used candles in place of lights, all too aware of how quickly the light could attract infected and other threats that could devastate their lives. When they woke up the next morning, around 5, they discovered that Nancy had been working all night and had managed to reset the home's surveillance system. They found her asleep in front of a monitor, with security footage playing in real time on the monitor. They placed a blanket over her shoulders to keep her warm and quietly walked back out of the room, eager not to disturb her. Because of the way the night hours fell, the one who held the first watch of the night also took the last, and as they approached, Vixen slid down the tower ladder to greet them. “Any problems before dawn?” Ghost Lead asked. "No. Only one Juggernaut got a little too close for comfort." He replied. When Ghost Lead asked him what happened, Vixen simply pointed to the wall. The other three Specters peered over and saw the massive mass of a Juggernaut stumbling blindly several meters away. In place of his eyesthere were two shots from Vixen's M40. "Shit man..." Spitfire replied. “It's a brutal way to treat him.” “I can admire it.” Bandit said, smiling widely. “Yeah, but you’re a fucking sadistic son of a bitch.” Spitfire retorted. Bandit shifted his smile menacingly towards Spitfire, making him very uncomfortable. Everyone knew Bandit was a bit of a sadist, and no one with half a brain cell wanted to get on his bad side. Even members of his team sometimes feared him. Vixen slipped through the group and began opening the gate before Ghost Lead called out to him. "Fox! Where are you going?" Vixen paused and replied, calmly, “I just crossed the street. I've noticed that the wind has been ruining our vegetables lately. I wanted to get some clothes from the supermarket across the street and make some kind of windproof cover for protect them a little." “Okay, be quick and don't take any chances. Come back here as soon as possible." “Acknowledged, sir.” Vixen replied, before opening the gate and crossing the street to a large supermarket in front of the house. He spent several minutes stealthily walking the halls. He had only planned for the journey to be quick and so he carried only a knife and gun for protection in case he was attacked. He and his team had raided and cleared out the supermarket shortly after the outbreak of the infection, so he was pretty sure there would be no resistance, but he wasn't going to die of carelessness and infected weren't the only things that could pose a threat. Bandits and other scavengers often made their way into cities in search of supplies. Even those who had never used a weapon before were willing to do so for valuable resources. The epidemic has turned ordinary people into monsters in more ways than one. He walked through the supermarket to the opposite side, the clothing section. He quickly stuffed several items of clothing into his backpack until, when he was satisfied he had enough, he zipped it up and headed back. Happy to have made sure everything was clear, he calmly returned to the entrance, taking a leisurely walk through the corridors. Then he heard a sound that made him stiffen and stop mid-step. A chilling sound that sent a cold shiver down his spine. He didn't take another step. Disturbing him now would mean almost certain death. When they were on foot, they tried to avoid them even when they were fully equipped, and he had nothing but a pistol with a magazine and a small combat knife. Slowly, she turned her head to face him. There, in the middle of the corridor, was a Feral. The tall humanoid beast stood 8 feet tall and held a can of food in its hands. He bit down on the top, trying to bite into the fleshy contents inside. The can began to ripple under the pressure of the beast's jaws. For now, the beast seemed preoccupied with the can and paid no attention to Volpe. Slowly, Vixen lowered her hand to her holster and reached for the gun. Slowly releasing it, he clicked the safety to "off." Then, the Feral stopped chewing the can and sniffed the air. Then he started to confront Vixen. He growled and drool dripped from his lips to form a small puddle of saliva on the floor. A guttural roar escaped her mouth and Vixen slumped her shoulders in defeat. “Well, shit.” He rushed as fast as he could towards the entrance, ignoring the beast chasing him. He was a well-trained soldier and veteran of many special operations, but his reflexes could not compare to those of the Feral and he could not even hope to match its speed. Desperate to escape, he quickly turned into a hallway and ran down it, pulling a display of electronics behind him to hopefully slow the beast. He didn't look back to see if it worked. His”.