0100 Hrs.
'What do you think you are doing may I ask?'
Philip looked up from where he was packing the last of what he was going to take with him.
'We have to go see if we can help, I may not know much about military weaponry but that sure as hell sounded like an explosion. Tell me I'm wrong?'
Wilkes opened his mouth as if he were about to say something then must have thought better of it.
' Yeah, that's what I thought.'
Philip turned back to the backpack on the table and reached across the wooden surface to get his gun.
'Now, either help me get ready … or shoot me. One way or another I'm going out that door to help who I can. You know as well as I do that the plane must have left by now and we are running out of time.' He looked over to where his son sat.
He looked back to the colonel.
'I need your help, I can't do this alone.'
Wilkes lowered his head and sighed deeply.
'I'd hate to shoot you … wouldn't want to clean up the mess. Okay, let's go.'
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
The two figures ducked in and out of fields, around the trunks of trees. Where the moon shone they avoided, preferring the dark patches of shadow to aid their movements.
Mary ducked low and helped the soldier Mason to her level. He had taken more of a bump than first thought. His movements were sluggish and said that he vision that blurred from time to time. Mary suspected a concussion.
Mason breathed heavily relying on the other for a lot of support, although he was starting to feel a bit better.
He held the pistol that he had managed to salvage in a tight grip knowing that if he lost the weapon they were as good as dead. The only problem with having it was the fact that he couldn't actually use it.
If he fired it in the stillness of the night he may as well sound a dinner bell. The sound of the shot would carry for miles in every direction alerting every dead creature for miles. As it was the explosion would have drawn the dead to their location had they not decided to move when they had. They needed to stay quiet and unseen if they were going to survive.
They needed to get back to Philips house. By their estimate they had less than two hours to get to the village and find the colonel, Philip and his boy, find the other soldiers and then get the hell out of Dodge before whatever was coming there way got there.
They stayed where they were as another straggler wandered past and then, only when they were sure the coast was clear, did they resume their journey.
0110 Hrs.
Mitchell crouched next to the car and cautiously poked his head over the bonnet. From where he was he could see at least a dozen of the creatures aimlessly wandering the street a hundred yards from him.
He scooted back down to the ground and looked again at his watch.
The luminous dial showed him it was just past 0110. He had been told that if the other group hadn't shown by then he was to make his way back to the house as quickly and as quietly as he could, with the minimum of company if at all possible.
Warren made sure that he wasn't being observed and then ran silently to the corner of the nearest building.
He flattened himself against the rough brickwork and in that instant knew that he wasn't alone. He spun and lifted his weapon. The darkness in front of him was almost absolute, shadows shifting within shadows. He edged his way forwards and his foot came down on some loose garbage. He slipped fell heavily into a garbage bin knocking it to the floor with a clang. Somehow still holding on to his pistol stood as quick as he could.
He was breathing heavily now, trying to control his racing heart rate, every damn creature in the area must have heard that. He listened as well as he could but could only hear the wind and the pounding in his chest. The thing that he was most afraid of; the shuffling of feet, the slow drag of rotting limbs … wasn't there.
Warren breathed a huge sigh of relief.
He closed his eyes for a second and leaned his head against the brick at his side.
Something touched him on the shoulder and he almost died right there.
He spun on his heel and looked back the way he had come. Standing there, wearing pyjamas and holding a teddy bear was the figure of a small girl, her face hidden in the shadows.
He lowered his gun and reached his free hand towards her. She stayed where she was seeming to sway gently on her feet.
'It's okay sweet heart. I'm not going to hurt you, but we have to leave. We have to get …'
The rest of the sentence was left unspoken as the figure in front of him suddenly lunged forwards and sank her teeth into the flesh of his fingers. Her small jaws came together with the sound of a bear trap and the digits were severed where they met the palm of his hand.
He just managed to hold back the yell that formed on his throat as he fell back on his ass.
In a moment of shock he didn't think twice … didn't hesitate. He lifted the pistol and sent a bullet crashing through the creatures skull. The small diminutive figure flew back with the impact of the shot and skidding along the floor, the long pieces of flesh falling out of her mouth and landing on the floor. She twitched once and then lay still.
Warren lifted his hand and tucked in into the folds of his shirt. The raw stumps brushed the rough fabric and he bit back another scream. He opened his eyes wide, the feelings of nausea strong and only just held in check.
It was a struggle, a battle that he would lose soon. He knew that whatever had killed and subsequently reanimated the people from the village was now coursing through his blood stream. On top of everything the need to keep quiet had gone. He could hear the tell tale sounds of movement behind the corner of the wall he slumped against. He was quickly running out of time.
He got shakily to his feet and started off down the other direction. As he neared the corner he heard the sound of numerous footsteps behind him.
He threw caution to the wind and turned and got ready to run.
They were already coming from the direction he was headed.
'Oh crap ...I knew I should have called in sick.'
The sound of his own voice cracking a joke seemed to send the creatures into overdrive. Everything close started to run in his direction.
He lifted his weapon and calmly shot the closest in the face; its cheek disintegrated in a spray of gore coating the next figure behind him. It twitched sideways for a moment only to correct its course the next and keep coming. His next shot took it high on the head and the scalp seemed to flip up like a lid.
It went down to lay there in a rapidly spreading pool of blood and brains. Other feet trampled what was left of its head into the tarmac.
Warren turned the other way and sent two more shots at the other group; one missed only to ricochet from the wall and take a creature in the neck. The other found its mark, the thing hitting the floor with a thud.
He turned again and fired three more times, the two groups almost within reaching distance.
Warren managed to lift one of his legs and kick a close figure into the group behind it, stopping the rush from that quarter temporarily, but there were plenty of others to take its place.
A figure in bloody rags fell on his legs and he felt teeth puncture his calf muscle, the jaws ripping a bloody chunk of flesh from his body, hot salty blood spraying into his face. Another set of teeth clamped down on his neck, the insane pain filling his entire body removing any other feeling he had. His fingers went numb and the gun hit the floor discharging into the crowd that was now surging around him. The last sight that Warren Mitchell had of this world was teeth headed towards his eyes; bloody strands of rotten, partially chewed meat hanging from the cavernous mouth.
Everything went black.
X-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
'Wait … did you hear something?'
Philip stood still, putting his boy behind him as a matter of reflex.
He heard the wind but very little else.
But just for a moment, a fleeting second he was sure he heard the sounds of gunshots somewhere in the night.
The two men looked at each other, instinctively knowing what it meant but refusing to believe what it had been.
Another man down. Philip lowered his head for the briefest of moments offering a silent prayer for whoever it had been.
'We cant help them now. Let's go.'