Chapter 97: Heading to the Office
They proceeded to the main entrance of the hospital, where inside, it gave off a creeping, suffocating silence.
The room of the Korean virologist, according to their intel, was located at the upper floors of the main wing. Administrative offices had been converted into research spaces during the early days of the outbreak, and Dr. Han Seo-yeon had been working out of one of those secured sections.
"Fourth floor," Ryan said quietly, checking the tablet. "East wing."
Adrian nodded once.
"Stairs," he said. "We avoid elevators."
"Copy."
The interior was worse than the outside.
Lights flickered intermittently, some completely dead, leaving long stretches of corridor dim and unevenly lit. Papers were scattered across the floor. Medical equipment lay overturned. Stretchers abandoned mid-hall, some still carrying bodies that had long gone cold.
Or worse.
"Clear left," one operator whispered.
"Clear right."
They advanced step by step, covering angles, checking corners.
Then, suddenly, there was movement.
From one of the hospital rooms.
A figure stumbled out.
A nurse.
Her uniform was stained dark, her movements slow but unstable. Her head snapped toward them the moment she caught sight of their presence.
Ryan raised his hand.
The lead operator stepped forward.
A suppressed shot cracked softly.
The nurse dropped instantly.
"Keep it clean," Ryan said.
They moved again.
Further down the hallway, more figures appeared.
Patients, doctors, hospital staffs.
Some still wearing their hospital gowns, IV lines hanging from their arms, dragging along the floor as they moved. Others in lab coats, their faces hollow, eyes lifeless.
"They’re everywhere," one of the operators said under his breath.
"Stay quiet," Ryan replied.
Another infected turned the corner.
Then another.
"Engage," Ryan said.
The MP5s whispered in sequence.
Bodies dropped before they could react.
Ryan moved first.
"Stairwell ahead," he said, keeping his voice low.
They advanced carefully, stepping over bodies, avoiding anything that could make noise. Glass crunched underfoot in some places, forcing them to slow even more, placing each step with intent.
The stairwell door stood slightly ajar.
Ryan paused beside it, one hand raised.
He leaned in just enough to listen.
Nothing immediate.
No rushing footsteps.
No scraping.
Just the hollow stillness of a building that had long been abandoned.
He pushed the door open slowly.
The hinges gave a faint, drawn-out creak.
Everyone froze.
Waited.
Nothing came.
"Move," Ryan whispered.
They entered.
The stairwell was darker than the hallway. Emergency lights cast a dim red glow across the concrete walls, creating long shadows that stretched upward along the steps. The air felt heavier here, stale and unmoving.
"Two-man lead," Ryan said. "Clear as we go."
The first pair moved up.
Second floor.
A body lay slumped against the wall, its head tilted at an unnatural angle. Dried blood marked the concrete behind it.
"Clear," the lead whispered.
They continued.
Third floor.
A door on the landing was half-open, swinging slightly as if disturbed by a recent movement.
Ryan raised his fist.
Hold.
Everyone stopped.
A faint sound came from beyond the door.
The lead operator edged closer, weapon raised.
The door moved again.
A figure stumbled through.
Faster than the ones below.
Its movements were sharper, less delayed.
"Contact," the operator whispered.
Two suppressed shots.
The figure dropped instantly, sliding down the steps and coming to rest against the railing.
Ryan watched it for a second.
"Reaction time’s faster," he said quietly. "Stay tight."
They moved again.
Fourth floor.
Ryan stopped at the door.
He placed a hand on the handle, then looked back briefly.
Adrian gave a small nod.
Ryan pushed it open.
The corridor beyond was different.
Cleaner in some areas, but not untouched.
Overhead lights flickered unevenly, some still working, others pulsing weakly. The walls were lined with office doors and glass panels, many of them cracked or shattered. Papers were scattered across the floor, mixed with broken equipment and overturned carts.
But what stood out—
Was the stillness.
Figures lined the hallway.
Doctors.
Lab personnel.
Several stood motionless, their bodies angled at unnatural positions, as if frozen mid-action. Others leaned against walls or desks, unmoving.
Ryan raised his hand slowly.
The team stopped.
One of the figures twitched.
Then another.
Their heads began to turn.
"Contacts front," the lead operator whispered.
Adrian stepped slightly forward, eyes scanning past them.
At the far end of the corridor, a reinforced door.
Partially intact.
A sign hung crookedly beside it.
Dr. Han Seo-yeon.
Adrian’s gaze fixed on it.
"That’s our target," he said quietly.
Ryan nodded once.
"Then we move."
The operators adjusted their stance, weapons raised, suppressors aligned toward the figures ahead.
"Drop those zombies," Adrian ordered.
The response was immediate.
The lead operators stepped forward, MP5s raised, suppressors aligned with the nearest targets.
The first few infected dropped cleanly, their bodies collapsing where they stood. No thrashing. No noise beyond the suppressed shots.
But the rest, did not react the same way.
One of them turned faster than expected.
Its head snapped toward the shooters, body shifting with a sudden sharpness that didn’t match the slow, delayed movement they had seen before.
"Movement!" the lead operator called.
Another burst followed.
The figure dropped—but not before taking a step forward.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed.
"They’re reacting quicker," he said. "Don’t give them time."
"Keep firing," Adrian added.
Another infected lunged.
Two shots dropped it mid-step.
"They’re not standard," one operator said.
"No," Ryan replied. "They’re adapting."
The corridor shifted.
What had been still moments ago began to move.
More of the figures turned.
More stepped forward.
Not in a chaotic rush like outside, but coordinated in a way that felt wrong.
"They’re not swarming," Adrian said quietly.
"They’re closing in."
Ryan nodded.
"Push forward," he ordered. "Don’t let them box us in."
The team advanced.
Step by step.
Each operator covering angles, clearing targets as they moved.
Bodies fell around them, but the space didn’t open as easily as before. The infected were spacing themselves, moving from different angles, forcing the team to adjust constantly.
"Left side!" one operator called.
Two shots.
Down.
"Right clear!"
Another pair dropped.
They reached halfway down the corridor.
The reinforced door at the end was closer now.
Now, there’s a high chance that the virologist is not inside, but it is best to confirm.
"Ready?"
"We’re ready."