Ghost placed his hand on the stairwell door leading to the third floor and signaled for everyone to get into position.
With calculated movements, he turned the handle and opened the door just enough to peek through.
The dormitory was wide, with rows of metal bunk beds arranged in long lines, creating narrow corridors between them.
The air reeked of rotting flesh.
The floor was covered in bodies, but Ghost knew not all of them were truly "dead."
He was the first to enter, his katana already in hand.
The group followed cautiously, spreading out to check the sides of the bunks.
The only sounds were the rustle of clothing and careful footsteps on the dusty concrete.
I scanned the room and murmured, "We need to clear everything before crossing. I don't want any surprises."
"Quick and silent," I added, my eyes alert for any movement.
A body lying next to a bunk slowly twitched its fingers—but before it could react, Ghost's katana came down swiftly, slicing through its skull.
The zombie twitched for a moment and then went still.
Joel pointed to the left.
Two infected stood between the bunks, their heads tilted to the side, lifeless eyes staring.
But as the team approached, they stirred, letting out a low, raspy growl.
Without hesitation, Joel drove his knife into one's forehead, gripping the creature's shoulder to keep it from falling and making noise.
Richard did the same to the other, gritting his teeth as he drove the blade deep.
I moved through the corridor formed by the beds.
Each of my movements was fluid and precise.
I hurled a kunai at the forehead of an infected starting to rise, and before the body could drop, I had already sliced another's head clean off with a swift strike from the katana.
A growl came from the back of the room.
Grabbing another kunai, I flung it straight into the skull of a zombie charging at us. It hit the floor with a dull thud.
More of the dead began rising from the beds and the floor.
Lee and Mark moved together, stabbing their blades straight into the foreheads of the nearest zombies.
Richard grumbled as he smashed an infected's head against the edge of a bunk bed before plunging his knife into its skull.
The clearing was methodical.
Every strike was precise, every movement calculated to avoid unnecessary noise.
I eliminated enemies with speed and precision, switching between kunai and katana as I advanced.
When the last zombie fell, Ghost looked toward the far end of the dorm.
The second staircase was there—but to reach it, we still had to cross several more rows of bunk beds.
I wiped the katana blade on one of the bodies' uniforms and looked at the group. "Let's finish this."
The final stretch went quickly.
Only a few infected were still crawling on the floor, and we took them out before they could get close.
Upon reaching the stairwell door, I checked the next floor.
The stench of decay was even stronger.
"Third floor clear," I announced. "Let's head down carefully. The next one might be worse."
Without hesitation, we began the descent.