The huge horde stumbled on towards them, the sound of teeth gnashing and hungry moans filled the group. The decaying army filled the street and gardens, knocking over fences and even pushing cars aside with sheer numbers. Richards, crouched behind an old Volvo, stitched his SA80 assault rifle to semi automatic, and looked over at Smith; Smith's eyes were glued to the twitching corpse of Hammond. "Shit said Richards; he turned and put a round through his old comrade's head. Smith jumped at the bang and they met eyes. "It should be you lying there you little prick" Richards snarled to the younger soldier.
"I'm sorry Max, I didn't know there was any left around us, he said he could hold for a minute, a mans gotta piss you know" replied Smith, indignant and remorseful at the same time.
"I Swear I'll let them tear you apart, you ain't getting no help from me" Said Max Richards turning to face the Zombies again. He could hear Smith sobbing on the other side of the road and felt nothing.
Ben looked at Kate and Jimmy, then to the soldiers assigned to hold the centre with them, "Alright mate, Corporal Damian Farnes" said a mischievous looking man in his mid thirties. Ben shook his hand and was also introduced to Mandal, a sour looking Asian trooper who kept shooting sideways evil eyes at them.
"What's his problem?" asked Kate jerking a thumb at Mandal,
"Ah ignore him, grumpy lil twat, thinks he's better than civvies just cos he wears the uniform" said Damian smiling. "Stick with me and I'm sure it'll be fine, mind you you've done pretty well on your own, maybe I should stick with you" He offered the 3 of them the discarded guns of his dead comrades, but they all refused. "I can't shoot for shit mate, that's why I've got the shotgun" said Ben with a grin, slinging the mace over his shoulder and flicking the safety off. James simply grinned and gestured to all his bows and arrows and they had all laughed and Kate had said she'd only ever shot a pistol at a gun range and so didn't fancy anything more powerful.
The bloody mass of zombies was only 200 yards away, torn flesh and clothes, innards and blood littered the road, falling in lumps from them. Suddenly the first rank of undead horrors simply collapsed, heads cracked into the floor spilling maggot riddled brains over the floor, yet more tripped over these, snapping legs and other bones, the waiting defenders wincing at the sounds, like bubble wrap.
Suddenly a house door only a few yards in front of the still piling mass of dead, twitching and still walking dead burst open and a group of 8 came running out,, red scarves tied round their heads, basketball shirts, hoodies and white trainers, the crowbars, bats and knives in their hands showed that these were other survivors. Suddenly Sergeant Lester was calling to them as was Richards, calling them to come to them. Their calls were ignored as the stormed towards the front of the dead army yelling and screaming and cheering. Their weapons rose and fell into those dead piled up on the trip wire they had laid. They killed dozens, Lester's' soldiers and Ben's Civvies took hope and cheered them on and hope swelled in their chests, they might actually be able to hold them there. Richards and Smith were running to help this group of strangers sprinting up the road, ignoring Chris's calls for them to hold their positions. Richards turned back at look at them then carried on; then it all went horribly wrong.
One of the strangers, tore his crowbar from the head of a trapped zombie and raised it again, now aiming for a growling woman trapped in the mass, but a snarl made him look up and a young zombie, it's West Ham football shirt, torn with huge bites, stood atop the squirming mass, it fell forwards, arms outstretched towards it's panicking meal. The man took a step back, trying to put some distance between him and the hungry zombie, but not enough, the zombie seized his hand and dugs it teeth through the woollen glove and into his flesh, he screamed and dropped his weapon, the zombie let go and lurched forward and burrowed it's bloodied face into his chest, tearing through his rips with sickening ferocity, the jagged broken bones and shattered teeth imbedded in the zombies face. The mans scream of utter agony halted everyone living in their tracks, it made their blood run cold and palms sweat. The man standing next to his dying friend shouted and slammed his bat into the his friends killer over and over until, 2 more zombies bore him kicking and screaming to the ground, their gnarled hands tearing open his belly and greedily stuffing his ropy entrails in their mouths as more zombies piled over and past them to reach their prey. Suddenly the air was pierced by more and more yells and cries of terror and pain, out of the 8 people that had engaged the zombie horde only 3 remained, the rest, still twitching under a mass of bloodied, feasting ghouls. A cry from a young chav in a bloodstained t-shirt made all 3 of these turn and start to run towards the gawking defenders of the cul-de-sac. Smith and Richards stopped in their tracks, ad turned indecisive, we should help them right?" said Smith, tugging on Max's arm,
"Fuck you, get off me, do what you want, I'm going back" replied Pvt Richards, his voice dripping scorn. They turned to the sprinting group coming towards them, but the horde was right behind them, sheer numbers pushing them forward at almost running speed. The youth at the back fell, and had but a breath to scream before he was engulfed by the tide of death. The others stopped for a moment before the remaining boy screamed and ran back to try and drag his friends outstretched arm from under the zombies on top of him, but the girl kept running, her blonde hair spilling free of her cap. Panic and fear filled her eyes as she tore past Smith and Richards, who just watched her go. The would-be rescuer caved in head after head, yelling and screaming obscenities before being dragged down next to his now still friend.
"Now" said Richards, he and Smith opened fire, red hot darts arched from their weapons, blasting chunks from bodies and smashing heads apart with ferocity. Richards could hear the Sarge yelling at them to get out of the way. "Fuck him, if I can do this then he'll have to promote me corporal" he thought. Suddenly he head the dead mans click, his gun needed reloading, smith fired his last 3 rounds and he to hear the click. They locked eyes and frantically began walking backwards fumbling for magazines. Smith's gloves were slippery with sweat and just as he was to lock it home, it dropped and his boot caught it, sending it sliding towards the encroaching dead. He ran for it, snatching it up, and slamming it home, he cocked it, and looked up. His scream was muffled behind his mask, a rotting face lunged for his face, hard arms seized him and the weight of the horde pushed him over. Max Richards slammed his magazine home with a grim as he watched Smith tearing a good dozens zombies apart on full auto, a zombies teeth latched into his ragged throat, tearing and snarling. Then only clicking, the dead mans click, Smiths arm fell limp before being obscured by the numerous zombies.
"Ha, good, lil cunt deserved that and more for Hammond" he though, not a shred of guilt or remorse entered him for not helping his friend, he knew if he had used his pistol he could have saved him but he would claim panic made him forget when that Bastard Lester inevitably asked. He turned and sprinted back to the entrance to the cul-de-sac. Chris glared at him alongside the new comers and the panting, shaking girl who had tried to stop the horse with her now zombie friends. "I might make corporal after all", he thought, "as long as these new fucks don't get in my way".
As soon as he reached the others he was met by Chris's fist, knocking his feet from beneath him, Chris grabbed the front of his Kevlar vest and hauled him close, his lips almost touching Max's ear. "I know you left him, don't even bother with any excuse, wen this is over, Ill kill you" he whispered, his voice calm but full of deadly menace. A Cry of alarm, snapped their attention from this drama, Sambo and Harris who had been guarding the alleyway behind them, were slowly retreating, another large group of zombies were forcing their way down the narrow alley, "Fire in the hole" cried Pvt Sambo, a large black man, rolling a grenade into the packed mass. Limbs and offal jetted in a cloud of smoke from the alley, burning fence and and still burning zombies could be seen, Harris sighted down his barrel, firing in controlled 3 round bursts, downing the few he could see through the smoke, then he dropped his gun, it clattered against his chest armour on it's strap. To the others it looked like he was doing a dance, Sambo, grabbed his shoulders and dragged him from the smoke, an upper body of a zombie child still ravaged his ankle, sambo let go, and shot it through the head. Lester met Ben's eye then Farnes and the others, "Richards, hold the line" he said, and Richards, trying to avoid further wrath, immediately started pouring fire into the still encroaching horde. Chris strode towards Sambo and Harris, his right hand straying to his pistol, he undid the holster and gripped the stock.
"Oh my God, what' he doing" said Kate, tugging at Ben's sleave.
"What has to be done" said Ben, thinking of the sobbing businessman he'd found near his home, he'd begged Ben not to hurt him, but he couldn't just let another zombie be created. He'd smashed the mans feebly raised arms down before smashing in his head in one blow.
He snapped back to the present and watched as Chris drew his pistol and aimed.
Sambo put himself between his sarge and his friend, "Come on sir please, he's not badly bit, not like Martin was earlier, he might not turn"
"Out of the way *Private* that's an order" Said Chris, regret filled his eyes and guilt filled his heart.
Sambo moved, and again took his watch of the alley. Chris could here him sobbing but steeled his heart.
"Do it!"
Chris looked at Harris, he was pulling off his Kevlar vest, and looking him in the eye.
"put one right here Srge, I don't wanna be one of those fuckers" said Harris, pointing first to his forehead then to the legless corpse that had sealed his fate.
"It's been an honour son" said Chris, Harris nodded, lig a fag, and shut his eyes.
They all flinched and stopped at the sharp retort of Lesters pistol, Harris fell slowly, a peaceful smile on his ravaged face. The all stood in silence. Chris's shoulders slumped and the smoking gun was at his side. Only the moans of the damned filled there ears,
"We have got to get back to the house said Jimmy, "I mean now"
Everyone nodded but despair flowed through their veins. It was going to be a long night.