0220 Hours

Although he had wanted to leave straight away Wilkes' couldn't deny the woman a quick rest.

He looked across the open camp and nodded in the direction of Mary.

'She okay?'

Mason nodded back, a small movement of his head.

'I think she'll be fine. Just shook-up is all.'

Mary sat up against the side wall eyes on the now still waters of the lake. Nothing else had reared its head from the water since the incident but in her mind all manner of nasty creatures had shown up. Next to her sat Philip; he sat cross legged, worry evident on his features.

She had gone through a hell of a lot recently, they all had. He wondered about her well-being; her mental state.

Hell, they were all hanging on by a thread here.

He didn't know just how much more they all could take.

He reached out a hand and placed it gently on her shoulder. She flinched just a little, her eyes growing wide for just a split second. He squeezed harder and she relaxed when she realized it was just him.

She placed one of her hands over his and smiled a small tight smile.

Philip let her lean in against him feeling the comforting weight of her head against his shoulder. It was in that moment he realized he would do anything for her, for any of them who were left.

But, still...he couldn't shake the feeling that before this was over he would be mourning again.

Wilkes stared out into the night, the low moans of the dead the only noise in the otherwise abandoned village.

He knew that the chances of finding a vehicle and making it out of the area were slim to none so while the others rested he had come up with another plan. It was infinitely more dangerous and reckless but, if it worked, it may just save them all.

'Okay everyone, change of plan … listen up, this is how we are going to get out of this crap we find ourselves in.'

And he told them.

0225 hours.

Philip looked as if he had been kicked in the guts. Mary just sat there looking at the water as though she hadn't heard a word.

Mason slowly shook his head, one corner of his mouth curled into a tight half smile.

'So, that's that then. That's the choices we have left to us?'

Wilkes looked at the other man, a look of finality across his features.

'I'm sorry that's all we can do. We are out of options. But if anyone has any ideas then I am all ears.'

Philip sat back against a low bank. His head in his hands.

Mason gave the thumbs-up and Mary just stared.

Wilkes sighed deep and long. He stood and moved over to one of the few crates they had left and retrieved a few choice items for himself. He tucked them away in one of his deep jacket pockets.

'Okay, then we better move. I'll try to get our ride on the way. I just hope that there is still someone watching.'

0235 Hours.

The small group of survivors once again found themselves in the shadows as they made their way through the village. Wilkes again led the way, his attitude calm and calculating.

He held his pistol in a white knuckled grip ready to bring it to bear at the first second of trouble.

They ducked low around cars and halted silently as groups of the infected went past them. They made the best time that they could to where they were headed.

What should have taken two minutes actually took the best part of ten. But soon the squat flat-roofed police station came into view. Thankfully there was no immediate activity around the doors or windows although the former stood wide open in the darkness. They had no idea what waited them on the inside but also, at the same time, were rapidly going through the options left to them.

Wilkes signalled for them to stop and then, mustering more speed than he knew he had left ran as fast as he could covering the hundred or so feet to the entrance in record time. As soon as he was halfway across the open space Mason got up and ran as well. He stopped in a crouch next to the left side of the door and swung in low waiting for his eyes to adjust to the deeper gloom inside. Wilkes stayed standing but also swung his gun arm around the door frame. Both men stood there for a full two minutes before they moved inside.

Philip waited outside his gun clenched so tight that the grip left an imprint in the flesh of his palm.

Mary crouched next to him behind the police car, the boy wedged between them. She still stared into the dark as if she could still see things there that the others didn't but Philip put that down to delayed stress.

He watched the front of the building intently, waiting for any sign from the two men inside.

A figure came back through the dark rectangle and waved an arm beckoning them towards it. He sent his son and Mary first watching the road as they ran through the open space. The second they made it to the building he got to his feet and sprinted after them.

He didn't see the bag on the floor until he tripped over the thing. At that minute he knew that if there was a God the HE had gone on vacation. The tin cans inside the bag crashed against each other and burst from the black plastic rolling every which way. The rolled across the tarmac and crashed into the side of nearby metal bins.

Philip found himself on his back staring at the night sky. His heartbeat sounded too loud in his ears. He hoped that it was just his imagination.

The loud groans and snarls that heard however, were not in his head.

'Run! Now!'

Mason stood over him gun drawn and pointed down the street. He heard the other man curse under his breath.

Philip got up and turned to look in the direction of the soldier.

He froze, all strength leaving his legs, feeling himself start to melt inside. Mason grabbed his upper arm in a vice-like grip and shouted into his face.

'Run you daft sod!'

The both took off like Olympic sprinters.

As soon as they crossed the threshold the door slammed shut behind them the deadlocks snapping closed, the filing cabinets on both sides falling to the floor just missing their legs. Both men turned unto their backs and pointed their guns at the door … and waited.

The barrier rocked under the impact of numerous bodies as the dead outside threw themselves against it.

But it held.

Wilkes helped the two men to their feet.

'Go! Back of the station.'

Mary was at the first intersection, the others close on her heels, when the front doors were ripped from their mounts, wood and glass exploded into the foyer of the station some even showering against the far wall. Mason bringing up the rear felt something push him in the shoulder but managed to stay on his feet. He kept running.

Mary headed for a door at the end of the corridor they were in and stood waiting there.

Wilkes barrelled past her and crashed through the door pushing his weight against it to hold it open. The others ran past and started up the stairs. He reached out to stop Mason then thought better of it. What he had seen could wait a little longer. As soon as they were through he slammed the door shut and put the metal bar down on the other side. It wouldn't hold for long but maybe it would hold long enough. He took the stairs three at a time and shot through the other door at the top. Philip shut it as soon as he was past and shot the bolts and the padlock that were there. He sprawled onto the gravelled flat roof and tried to catch his breath.

Mason stood just behind him his gun trained on the door. It would take a while to break through both sets but given enough time and enough bodies they would eventually get through. They heard the breaking of glass from downstairs just under their feet and knew that the whole town, what was left of it, were converging on and entering the building downstairs.

'Mason … come here.'

Wilkes stood and lowered his pistol replacing it into its holster by his side. Mason strolled across to him his body for some reason starting to feel heavy.

'Turn around.'

He did as he was told.

He heard Philip gasp and wondered what the problem was. He found out in the next couple of seconds.

'Ah … you might want to hold on to something, or grit your teeth at least. This may hurt a little.'

Wilkes grabbed something behind him and pulled the pressure immediately going from his shoulder. It was replaced with pain, a lot of pain. He fell to his knees unable to stand on his feet for the moment. Still there he turned his head and looked to where his commanding officer stood. The older man held up the piece of wood for him to see. It was eighteen inches long and three inches wide at one end, the other tapered to a wicked looking point that was covered in the soldiers blood.

'At least you came away with a souvenir.'

He smiled and Mason managed a pained grin in return. As he heard the muffled sound of the first door being broken down at the bottom of the stairs his eyes closed and he landed face-first in the gravel in front of him.

0240 Hours.

Mason opened his eyes and the first thing he saw where concerned faces looking down at where he lay. His shoulder felt raw and ragged where the large piece of wood had been. The second thing he noticed was the fact it was lighter, and redder than it should have been. He turned his head to one side and saw two flares sputtering away near the edge of the roof. He knew that there would be two more on the other side as well, he had seen Wilkes pocket at least four when they had left camp.

He turned back to find the face of the older man.

'So that's the plan? Only forgot one thing …'

Wilkes held up the satellite phone he still had and smiled, Mason could now hear the voice on the other end.

'I say again … chopper is en-route, e.t.a is four minutes. Out.'

'Just got word from the two I sent when all this started. Friendlies are on the way.'

He leaned down and put a hand paternally on his uninjured shoulder.

'We're going home.'

Philip gently pulled the colonel away from the group and to the edge of the roof. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

'Do we have enough time? Yes or no?'

Wilkes thought carefully before he answered.

'If the chopper is on time, if the missile is late, if we don't all get eaten beforehand … then yes, I think we'll be okay.'

He looked at the other man intently for a full thirty seconds.

'You prey Philip?'

'Not for a long time, no. Why?'

Wilkes just smiled then.

'You may want to start. We deserve a miracle don't you think?'

The door to the roof started to shake with each impact that was thrown against it from the other side. The stairway wasn't wide but that didn't seem to be stopped those things that were there. What they couldn't manage in force was more than being made up with in numbers. The door would be down in a matter of minutes.

They had nowhere left to run.

Mary crouched behind the men head down touching the forehead of the boy she held.

Mason sat against the wall just to the side of them, his pistol cocked and pointed at the door held in a shaky grip.

Philip and Wilkes stood in front of the woman and child grim resolve on their faces weapons pointed to the fore.

They waited … there was nothing else they could do.

Wilkes knew that the swarm on the other side of the door would overwhelm them, tear them to pieces and push them from the edge of the roof. They would not be able to survive long. Just for a moment he turned to Philip and looked him straight in the eye. He lifted his gun so it was pointed in the general direction of the two figures behind them and lifted one eyebrow. The other man knew what he was thinking and knew in his heart that it would be the right thing to do...he just couldn't let him do it. He lifted his hand and moved the barrel of the weapon back to point at the door. He turned and walked the three steps to where the others sat. Mason saw him and understanding passed between them, he gave a small nod and forced himself to stand. He made his way, somewhat unsteadily to where Wilkes stood. Both warriors greeted each other with a silent nod and focused all their attention on the door ahead.

They waited for the onslaught to begin.

Philip let himself down heavily and sat next to Mary. He Reached his hand over and grasped the two of them to him pulling them close.

'I'm so sorry.'

Barely a whisper yet Mary seemed to register and understand. She tucked herself in tighter.

Philip put the barrel of his gun just off his sons temple and angled so it would take Mary as well.

His finger tightened on the trigger.

A beam of light swung out across the roof just as he was about to fire, a voice booming from the sky.

'Clear below! Clear below!'

All eyes shot upwards looking for the source.

The noise from the dead had been so loud, so overwhelming that they had failed to hear the approaching helicopter until it was almost on top of them.

The rope ladder hit the roof a couple of feet from where they where sending up bits of gravel into the air.

Philip didn't need to be told twice.

He grabbed his son and Mary and pushed them to the rungs. To their credit they both shimmied up the rope like monkeys soon to disappear into the belly of the aircraft.

He grabbed the rope and started to climb after them. He also got to the sliding door in record time helping hands shooting through the opening and pulling him on board. He spun as soon as he was able and shouted down to the other men still on the roof.

Wilkes turned and helped Mason to the ladder and waited until he placed a foot on the rung.

It was at that moment the door crashed open behind them.

Philip fired at the first of the infected as they set foot on the roof, his bullet taking it in the temple and dropping it with a heavy thud. It was soon replaced with others as the creatures behind jostled each other for the space it left behind. Philip fired as fast as he was able scoring a few direct hits but otherwise doing little damage, the high sharp crack of his weapon soon joined by the booming of the soldiers' below him. His weapon ran dry first and he dropped it to the floor reaching down with his hand and grabbing Masons as he stretched upwards. Their fingers entwined and he started to pull the other man towards him. The scream from below made both men turn and look back.

Wilkes was hanging on to the end of the ladder a pained look on his face. Several of the infected had attached themselves to his lower body biting and chewing on the flesh that ripped from his body. One of them bit into the meat of his thigh and twisted its head like a dog tearing the piece of bloody meat free. Mason lined up his shot carefully and fired, the shot took the top of the dead things head off, brain and skull fragments ploughing into the face of the creature behind it destroying one of its eyes and lacerating its face down to the bone. Still it came on even as the shot one fell to the floor in a heap.

Wilkes tried to climb higher but the sheer weight of the figures on his legs held him down. He looked up a final time and then, just like that, he was gone buried under an avalanche of dead flesh. The same dead hands grasping at the rope rungs of the ladder forcing the small craft down again. Mason looked down and a tear fell from his eye, partly from the pain in his shoulder, partly from the loss of the last of his unit.

A hand reached up and grasped at the air, the fingers having been chewed on; the skin torn and ragged. Mason looked into the eyes of the man above him and nodded once a small smile creasing the corners of his mouth.

'No … please.'

Philip pleaded with the other man even as he relaxed his fingers in his grip. He started to slid back towards the roof. Philip tried to hold on and felt himself start to slip as well. Hands behind grabbed his belt and yanked him backwards. The fingers in his hand finally fell through his sweaty palm and the soldier fell back into the throng.

By some act of amazing strength he stood and started to fire point blank at the things around him. Every one he shot went down a bullet hole to the head. While firing he reached into his vest and pulled a large knife then, without looking, slashed the ropes that tethered the chopper to the dead hands holding it. The craft lurched upwards for just a second before it corrected itself and hovered, everyone on board not able to do anything for the beleaguered soldier below.

The last Philip saw of the soldier was as he went over the roof borne on a wave of dead men. He pulled his gaze away and allowed himself to be strapped in. His son and Mary huddled together against the other side. Philip heard the engine whine louder and he was pushed against his harness as the craft banked sharply up and away. On a purely subconscious level he looked at his watch. He was amazed to see that everything had happened in the space of five minutes. He realized that the pilot was motioning to a pair of headphones hanging just above him. He reached up and somehow managed to put them on, the pilots voice came through loud and clear.

'Are there any more survivors sir?'

He shook his head and looked back to where they had come from.

'I'm sorry sir … but I've got to say you were damned lucky we were here. Some soldier boy got us on the radio and said his unit was here and needed evac. We were expecting more of you.'

Philip looked to where the pilot sat.

'There were.'

He reached up and took the headset off and dropped them an his lap cutting out anything else the pilot may have said.

The chopper shot into the night.

0300 Hours.

The missile came in over the tree tops low and fast its engines setting fire to the tops of trees it passed. It flew through the air on a pre-determined course seeming to slow as it approached the village. The long steel tube lifted slightly into the air as it approached the centre of the village and then detonated.

The immediate area around the missile became a fire storm of super heated air as the oxygen around was set alight. A huge fireball expanded like a miniature sun and engulfed the buildings and trees and figures as they stood looking up at it. Flesh was blasted away and bones were turned to ash as the blast destroyed every living and inanimate object in a five mile radius. The scene was repeated around the country many times as the surviving military forces tried to stem the tide of the dead.

But, as with all things, it was not enough.

THE END?

A.N.

Phew...intense huh?

Thanks to everyone who has viewed and reviewed. Thanks also to everybody who has come along for the ride. Please understand that I have to keep writing, I love writing just as the rest of you love reading. Stay with me ... this leg is over but, rest assured, the journey is FAR from finished.

Rhoades.