The barrel of the Flea's MG 42 sang with heat as he blazed away at the zombies, while the last recoilless shell sailed over the heads of the horde. The projectile sailed into a side street from which more zombies poured before bursting in a cloud of phosphorous. As the white smoke drifted down, the zombies it touched caught fire. The exotroopers fought back to back to back, retreating down the path of the backblast. Sunflower lashed his chain, and the Flea blazed away with the MG42. But the zombies pressed on, with enough force to shove the seemingly invincible warriors about. The weakest points in their armor- the coolant line that hooked the fins to the pelvis, the exposed servos on the inner calves, the flexible greaves over the buttocks- faced away from their attackers. Still, zombies managed to grab and pull at comparatively vulnerable components. The Tick kicked away a zombie that grabbed hold of a hose, which was only pulled further out of shape as the zombie went flying. A crawling zombie thrust its hand into Sunflower's calf servo, with mutually devastating results. Then, as the tank destroyer faltered, a score and more of zombies took hold of the chain and dragged him away from the others.
The Flea fired the last of his belt into a car 15 meters away. The resulting fireball thinned the zombies that rushed in. The Tick swung the recoilless gun like a club, and fired both barrels of hie wrist launcher. Then, gripping the gun by the barrel, he lunged after Sunflower and struck the chain with the breach. The chain snapped, and the breach block cracked. Sunflower staggered back, and the zombies holding the chain did likewise. Then the Tick pulled Sunflower back, reforming their three-man phalanx just before the horde could overwhelm the Flea. As the Flea reloaded with a 50-round "feed bag", a zombie grabbed hold of his weapon's white-hot muzzle. Diseased flesh fused to the metal like meat to a skillet. Sunflower brained the zombie, and they beat their retreat as beast they could through the narrowing path back to the bank.
A new sound roared through the bank as Dreadlocks and Zaratustra opened fire. Their weapons were 14.5 mm anti-materiel rifles. Dreadlocks used a modern semiautomatic weapon, while Zed fired a working replica of a World War 2, single-shot PTRD 41. Dreadlocks downed a wave of zombies with exploding rounds, while Zed took three leisurely shots at a tanker truck 100 meters away. A wave of hot air spiderwebbed the windows in front of the bank. Then the finback party came practically flying through the front door.
The Flea unhooked the belt, and a squire ran forward with a replacement for the overheated, possibly fouled barrel. "Forget that," the Tick said. "That thing's hot enough to cook off a round in the chamber!"
"Nah," the Flea said as he worked a lever to eject the barrel, "the gun's fine just a little- yaah!" He reflexively cast away the barrel. Smoke rose from his theoretically fireproof gauntlet. The barrel struck a wood-paneled wall, and promptly set the wood smoldering. Abbs darted over and sprayed it with a fire extinguisher
Behind the counter, Krista rose from a crouch, to see what she could of the parking lot. A few moments was enough to see all that mattered. The finbacks had devastated and scattered the horde, but not destroyed it. Already, surviving zombies were regathering into ragged packs. Volleys from Dreadlocks' rifle and short bursts from the Dushka were enough to shatter the emerging groups, but not as fast as new ones were forming. She managed to smile as she looked down at Austin. "C'mon, get up, everything's-" Her words trailed off. Timidly, looking almost ashamed, he held up a little velvet box. Tears welled from her eyes, and he thrust it back in his pocket. She dropped to her knees and threw her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his curly hair, down the back of his neck, carefully avoiding the spot where she had bandaged his shoulder. "Austin," she said, "you know it's yes. Yes forever. Whatever happens, I'm not going to leave you." She tried to turn his head to kiss him, but he pushed her to arm's length.
"The worst part... when I go," he said as he stroked her cheek, "will be when I stop loving you."
"We have achieved everything we could have hoped to," Zaratustra said to Paulus as he descended the stairs. "We have given you time, no more, no less. Can you take us home?"
Paulus only fidgeted, but Nibeaux spoke, firmly and finally. "No," he said. Behind him, Abbs went to Austin and hugged him. Suddenly, Nibeaux pointed to the little trio. "But they can."
