Gary pushed away the gnawing, sickening hunger he felt. He understood what was happening. The system had given him the same directives and cravings as an actual zombie. The difference was that he had conscious control over it.

He looked around as the three others slid off the car. They had lost precious seconds as the trio had decided what to do. The horde was closing in now, but there was still a route through the thinner ranks toward the main road.

“We should have stayed in the church with the others,” the older woman shouted. “I told you, Brian!”

“Not now, mum,” the younger woman said, putting an arm round her mother.

“She’s in shock,” she explained to Gary.

“Aren’t we all?” Gary muttered. “Are there more people trapped in the church?”

“I think about thirty,” the younger woman nodded.

Gary sighed. There was nothing he could do to help the people trapped in the church at the moment. He pointed towards the road. “That way. I can fend them off. Follow me.”

Gary shuffled as fast as he could, willing his leg muscles to go faster than they wanted to. The other three followed him as he knocked back two of the oncoming zombies with one swing of Simon.

“Can’t you go any bloody faster?” Brian shouted.

“I can’t... I’m injured,” Gary said, which was true. It just wasn’t the reason for his slow pace.

Another zombie stumbled towards the group and Gary smacked it in the face, sending it reeling backwards.

“You should go for the legs!” Brian shouted. “Knock them down! That way, it will take them longer to get back up. Here, give me that!”

Before Gary realised what was happening, Brian had grabbed the shovel. Gary kept his grip on it as the burlier man tried to wrench it from his hands.

“What? What are you doing?”

“I’ll do a better job than you!” Brian shouted, “Give it to me!”

“Let go, man!” Gary replied, tightening his grip on the shovel.

I don’t believe this, Gary thought, surrounded by the undead and what are we doing? Fighting over a shovel! This is absurd!

“Stop it, Brian!” his wife shouted. “We haven’t got time for this!”

“I’ll protect my family! I don’t need your help, you bloody weirdo!” Brian shouted. With his free hand, he punched Gary in the face. Gary reeled back in shock at the sudden burst of pain.

Brian hits you for 5 points of damage.

“Dad, stop it, he’s trying to help!”

“Stay out of this, Claire!” Brian shouted, his eyes bulging as he wrestled with the shovel. Somehow, Gary had kept hold of it despite the excruciating blow to his face.

“Let go, man, look this is stupid! They won’t attack me, that’s why it has to be me!”

Brian’s eyes were demented, though. The moans of the undead were getting closer and closer. Gary knew Brian was stronger than he was, and he’d have the makeshift weapon from him in seconds. He lashed out with his left hand without thinking about it.

His fingernails scraped the side of Brian’s face before he realised what he was doing.

You hit Brian for 4 points of damage. Brian is infected.

Brian had received a similar notification.

“Infected?” he yelled, letting go of the shovel and raising his hands to the wound Gary had inflicted across his face.

“Shit!” Gary yelled. “I didn’t mean to do that!”

“He’s one of them!” Brian yelled and lifted his fists, planning to punch Gary again.

There was no time left, however.

“Brian!”

Brian glanced around and roared.

“Hayleigh!”

Two of the undead had shambled up behind the woman as she had tried to separate Brian and Gary. One of them sank its teeth into her shoulder as the other grabbed at her arm. She screamed.

“Hayleigh!” Brian shouted and launched himself at the zombies, swinging with one fist and trying to drag her out with his free hand.

“Mum! Dad!” Claire cried out as the horde overwhelmed her parents.

Gary grabbed at her arm, careful not to let his nails scratch her.

“We have to go, now!” he yelled.

“No, you, you, you did this!” Claire screamed back at him. “This is your fault!”

“I didn’t... what?” Gary began, “We have to go!”

If there had been little time before, there really wasn’t any now. And there was no time to debate who was responsible for the two corpses being munched on by an increasing number of undead.

Even so, Gary told himself that this was not his fault. If Brian hadn’t started playing silly sods with the shovel, they would have all made it.

Brian (Level 1 Human Survivor) is dead. Shared Kill. Gain 25 XP.

“I didn’t kill Brian!” Gary raged at the notification.

“I... I know you didn’t,” Claire said, taken aback by Gary’s sudden furious outburst.

“What? No, I wasn’t talking to... never mind, we have to go.”

Gary looked around.

The route he’d been planning to take along the road was blocked off. The way back to the church was filled with hundreds of the undead. The only route that showed any promise, even if it was a dwindling one, was to race down the grassy bank behind them and to the wall about a hundred feet downhill. If they could climb over, they could get out of this. The path was still blocked by shuffling and moaning figures heading towards them, but there was a slim hope at least.

Gary waved his hand, motioning Claire to follow him. She took a few reluctant steps and then did as he’d indicated, her face streaked with tears.

Gary swung his shovel left and right as they quick-walked down the slope. Most of the undead behind were too busy focussing on the double treat of Brian and Hayleigh to follow them. That still left at least two dozen in the vicinity that were closing in.

Gary kept swinging, occasionally using the shovel quarterstaff-style to push clumps of two or three zombies back. The notifications pinged up about the damage he was causing, but he paid it no mind. The key thing was that they weren’t attacking him in return. All he had to do was to keep making sure that none of them could get close to Claire.

It was halfway down the slope that Gary realised he’d made a mistake.

The wall was a lot higher than it looked, his judgement fooled by the slope that had obscured the base. With nowhere else to go, however, he had to press on until they reached the redbrick structure, which was nine feet high.

“I’ll boost you,” Gary promised Claire as she reached the wall ahead of him and turned back.

There was no time, however.

More and more of the undead had zeroed in on them, forcing Gary to keep battering them back as they got closer and closer.

Gary screamed in frustration as the pair of them were forced along the wall into a corner.

“I can hold them off,” he yelled. “Just climb up the wall, get over it!”

If nothing else, he could jam the shovel against either side of the wall’s corner, and Claire could climb up using his shoulders.

The dead kept coming.

Gary swung the shovel this way and that as the number of shuffling bodies increased, all aiming for the living flesh behind him.

“Claire?”

He glanced back. Claire was standing just behind him, facing the horde, her eyes glazed and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Her face looked paler than he recalled.

Above her head, Gary saw that her health was dropping.

“It’s too late,” she said, lifting one trouser leg to show the deep scratch mark on her leg. “One of them got me on the car. I’m infected. I’ll be one of them soon.”

Gary felt his blood run cold.

“What? No...”

Claire shrugged. She was too numb with grief and shock to feel sad.

“No,” Gary said, “No, you can’t just give up like this. There might be a cure, right? I mean maybe some antibiotics will help, or something. There must be a pharmacy in the village, right? Just climb up and I’ll follow you, okay?”

Instead, Claire reached down and picked up a brick from the ground.

“I’d rather go down fighting,” she said, “That’s what dad always told me was the best thing to do.”

“Wait, no...”

“Alright, you bastards!” Claire shouted. “Come and get it! This is for Billy. And mum. And dad!”

She sidestepped Gary and raced towards the oncoming zombies, slamming the brick down on one skull here, another skull there. For a few brief seconds, it almost looked like she had a chance.

But it was a suicide run, and she knew it. After smashing three of the zombies in the skull, one of them grabbed her, then another, until they had piled on top of her.

Her screams were mercifully short-lived.