The area inside the gates seems eerily quiet considering the horde that attacked us on our way here. Where are the Primitives? This is where I'd expected to have to make a stand, not out in the desert. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck is standing up, telling me there's something wrong here. Telling me the enemy is close. I always listen to my instincts, they've kept me alive for forty years.

"Commander." A voice draws my attention and I swing my rifle around to find ...