The number of ghouls was overwhelming, but the sound they made was worse. Every one of us froze for a second, unable to move at the face of such a horror. Then suddenly, we broke and ran for the gate. It wasn’t as much a run as it was a rapid trudge.
As we hurried away from the zombies we constantly slipped and tripped in the foot deep, wet snow. The undead we had left as we investigated the sound were now thawed and took down two of Sarge’s men before we could get past them. I heard the fallen’s screams but could do nothing for them. This was a race with death.
We were hindered with our bulky clothing and thick arctic footwear while the zombies were mostly just in normal clothes and their thin legs pushed through the snow much faster
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Dead fingers and teeth raked at the barrier as they tried to get to the living on the inside.
I halted directly in front of the gate as it was torn down. Half crushed undead were trampled under their brethren's feet as the horde surged forward through the breech.
“Everyone behind me!” I screamed. The fighting men either didn’t hear me or didn’t care. But the oncoming mass made them back up and cleared a way for me to fire.
The weapon made no noise as it dropped zombies by the score. As the ghouls flowed into the opening they dropped on top of their comrade. Soon there were so many down that they clogged the way so I moved my line of fire to sweep either side of the gate.
Hundreds had dropped and still the undead were threatening the fences on either side of the compound. I didn’t know which direction to go. It was then that I noticed Hank on my left side.
“Go right,” he commanded. So without hesitation, I started moving in that direction.
As we slaughtered the remaining zombies, the soldiers stopped firing. They stood in awe as we dropped the last with our silent weapons. A cheer erupted from the men. What had appeared to be doom turned into hope. The soldiers all wanted to see these devices that could devastate so many
They revealed headless humans hung on chains and innumerous distorted faces. The sound of something similar to that of a disembodied spirit could be heard from all angles. I wasn't nearly as frightened as my sister, though, so I made it my sole responsibility to protect her. "We're going to make it out of here and then you won't have to come back any more." The vehicle turned yet another corner and we came to a standstill with the ancient concrete wall.
“I shall never forget the awful climb on hands and feet out of that hole that was about five feet deep with greasy clay and blood (although I did not know then that it was blood).
“Grrrraaaahhh” someone behind me yelled. I yelped loudly as I jumped and turned sharply around. There stood another zombie with a bright red mask who was also wearing a dark black cloak. But this zombie had a bloody axe in one hand causing me to scream very loudly. As I bolted in the opposite direction back out the entrance. I ran in between 2 of the arcade booths, then looked over my shoulder and sighed in relief as I realized this zombie hadn’t followed me.
Then, at 7.30 am, whistles were blown and the men went 'over the top'. Each man carried a gas mask, groundsheet, field dressings, trench spade, 150 rounds of ammunition and such extras as sandbags or a roll of barbed wire - up to 80 pounds of equipment. Thinking that the Germans had been destroyed by the bombardment, and fearing that their inexperienced soldiers would become disorganised in a rush attack, the generals had ordered that the men should walk, in straight lines, across No Man's Land. They were slaughtered. ' They went down in their hundreds.
The first of the dead arrived at the fence, at the same time the ordeal of opening the gate commenced. Drawn by the sound of the tug, the goons were walking to where they last heard engine. Joker greeted the zombies that reached the fence single or in pairs. His spear darted through the fence links, piercing the eye sockets. Ripping the tip free before his target collapsed outside the wire.
The roar of engines of planes and boats being launched at full speed created a throbbing deep rumble in the distance. The 45 pound guns in the trenches outside opened fire with a massive salvo of shells that
Gunshots, Fire, bombs, all flying in the sky. Men in uniform are scattering for shelter. It seemed all to simple for General Grant, “Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike at him as hard as you can and as often as you can, and keep moving on.”
...ng the deceased on the front porches; from there an open truck made routes through the area and picked up the bodies.
All their weapons were stained with black traces of a dark viscous liquid. Some of the blades were even dripping it directly to the ground. The black drops
The fog was heavy, the distance we were able to see was less than 30 yards from our position.
Machine Gun fire blasts over your head while your hiding in your home, the only protection available. A slight whistle begins in the distance but it soon becomes closer and closer, its sound becomes louder and more intense with every inch of ground that it covers. Then as soon as it started the whistle becomes an explosion-killing half of your friends and destroying any-thing in its path. The end is near as your town is conquered and you think there is nobody left to fight. But is there? This is a short description of what the townspeople of a small European town may have heard the day their town was seized by the German army in John Steinbeck's novel The Moon is Down (1942).
I see Little Tommo, Bertha, and of course Molly. Hastily, my mind is pulled back to reality as I hear the caw of a crow above, and a bag is fitted over my head. I decide I want them to see what travesty looks like. I want Hanley to see my cold, dead, lifeless face as it is lowered into the ground. He deserves it
“We are under attack!” Jimmy, our patrol man, yells leaping for the trench. A bullet pierces his skull before hits the ground leaving his body lifeless and bloody at my feet.
For example, when the main characters are left in the pub in ‘Shaun of the Dead’, there are silhouettes of hundreds of zombies trying to get in through the doors and windows. The convention of being ‘cornered’ is often used in general horror films, not just in the sub-genre of zombies.
Finally, I arrived at Fatrat's spot. Hopelessness simmered off the abandoned broken down apts. Glass in the windows are cracked or gone and replaced by plywood. Parking my truck in front of his apartment I got out and walked toward the door. The walking zombies who were once productive citizens were out in full blast with their eyes spinning with schemes to get money for their next hit. They were simply crackheads at the lowest on the food chain in H-town worse then prostitutes and almost as bad as snitches. People talk about heaven and hell but in their world hell was all they knew and heaven was just another word that has no meaning. I waded through the grimy crowd as the smell of stale piss, sex and alcohol rushed at me. I maneuvered