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
…show more content…
than our thick, booted feet. In essence, we were no faster than our pursuers. The thing that made things worse was that we were already weary from our trek in the deep snow while our foe never tired. “Keep moving!” Sarge bellowed encouraging his men. But his words fell on deaf ears as we all understood our plight and were moving as quickly as we could. Another scream sounded and one of the slower soldiers was caught from behind. We neither turned or slowed but pushed on toward help. What I couldn’t see, was that the cyborg was a bit faster than all of us. As another soldier was dragged down it was by the hands of the cyborg. After hearing the second of our detail fall I tried to gauge if we were going to make it. We were halfway there and already we were down by two men. There were originally ten of us so I felt that maybe two or three of us would make it. Another hundred yards and another soldier fell. With each soldier's death my adrenaline surged. “That’s it!” the sarge cried. “Whatever you men hear, just keep running. It was an honor to serve with every one of you.” With that, he stopped and spun. His maul twirling as he met the cyborg in combat. I couldn’t see how he was doing, but I could imagine his battle. The huge sergeant was sacrificing his life to try to buy us time. For moments, he actually stood his own against the mechanically augmented strength of the cyborg, but as the front line of zombies caught up, the valiant sergeant was overwhelmed. His efforts gave the remaining four of us the time we needed to gain the fence’s entrance. I could see in Jenkin’s eyes that he was debating whether or not to open the gate for us. I was relieved when I saw it open just wide enough to let us in. We stopped and pulled their sidearms. The dead slammed into the closed gate. It bowed in but held. Soldiers scrambled to defend the compound. Random gunfire turned quickly into a steady stream as more soldiers entered the fray. There were just too many dead. The gates were the weakest point and looked to be on the verge of failing. I had to do something extreme or we were all going to die. Holstering my empty handgun, I sprinted for the van. Luckily, there was a hidden key in the wheel well so after a moment I was in the van and grabbing an infrasound weapon. Not wasting a moment, I hurried back to the line of soldiers. The zombies were so vast that the front lines of their ranks were being crushed to death.
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
zombies. in the midst of the jubilation a strong hand grasped my shoulder and turned me toward him. It was Stryker and he was pointing in the distance. “What’s that?” he asked. It took me a moment to see where he was pointing. “I don’t know.” “I do!” Henry said, stepping up on my other side. “That’s the strange zombie that’s been following Dean and I. He must have brought friends.” “I’ll take care of him,” I said, stepping forward to gain a clear line of fire. Henry stopped me. “It won’t work. Dean and I already tried that. His helmet must offer him some sort of protection from the effects of the infrasound weapon.” “You gotta be kidding me.” “No,” he answered. Dean stepped forward holding the sniper rifle he’d picked up in Erie. “Don’t worry, we’ll see how he likes a taste of this.” “Where did you get a Bushmaster AR-15?” Stryker replied, his voice ringing with admiration. “It’s a long story,” Hank said. “Bullets won't hurt him.” “They will if I blow its leg off.” That said Dean walked to the fence. Sliding the barrel part-way through he put an eye to the scope and after a moment of aiming he fired. The recoil from the weapon was tremendous, but the bullet flew true. It struck the cyborg in the shoulder knocking it to the ground. As it rose, Stryker commanded him to fire again. When Dean pulled the trigger The creature turned and began moving toward the ridge. The shot missed completely. Dean chambered another round, but the result was the same. The distance was too great to hit a moving target. “I hurt it,” Dean said, more a question than a statement. “It’ll be back,” muttered Henry.
“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).
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.
“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.
“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.
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.
...ng the deceased on the front porches; from there an open truck made routes through the area and picked up the bodies.
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.”
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
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).
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 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
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