[You assumed rightly.]
Logain crouched down as he took a corner sharply, panning up-down-left-right in quick succession before moving on. He could hear the sounds of a gun fight, and he was moving closer. A jump around a corner saw Logain face-to-crotch with a zombie.
The creature moaned as it lowered itself to take a bite out of Logain, but the ex-Marine wasn't about to become something's lunch. Logain leaned back, planted his feet on it's chest and kicked it backwards. As it stumbled back, Logain jumped up, sheathed his combat knife, took aim with his Beretta, and fired one round cleanly in it's decomposing head.
"They gotta be close." Logain continued to dart around corners as fast as he could safely do, less he run into any more surprises. A few moments later, Logain came to the entrance of a long hallway, with a man staring at him from the end. The only thing that kept Logain from yelling with joy was the horde of creatures closing in.
Bolting in the room, Logain pushed the first man aside before shooting an approaching zombie. Holstering his Beretta, Logain pulled out one of his FN P90's, shouldered it, snapped on single burst, then started picking the zombies off as fast as he could get their ugly heads in his sight.
After the last one went down, Logain got up from his couched position and gave a half-assed grin to the man he had thrown to one side. "Sorry 'bout that. Cover. Military thing. Seems you boys had an undead problem. Figured you could use a hand. Name's Logain. Now if y'all doin' mind me askin', what the hell are y'all doing holed up in here?"
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Duty is heavier than a mountain, death is lighter than a feather.
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