Jonathan’s words had the desired effect, and the majority of the funeral goers stopped talking, aside from a few grumbles and quiet asides.

“Uh, thanks,” Gary nodded. “Right, as I was saying. We can’t stay here. There’s no food, and it isn’t safe. The people over there are infected.”

Gary grimaced. He didn’t want to say what he was about to, but he knew there wasn’t any choice.

“Sooner or later, they’re going to die and come back, and there’s nothing we can do about it. We could push them outside the church and lock ourselves in, but that just means they’ll be waiting outside for us. So we’ll be back to square one.

“The other choice is that we leave, and we lock those that are infected inside the church. We put up signs warning anybody else that there are dead inside, and we leave. And those are the options.”

Jonathan nodded at Gary’s succinct summary.

“You heard the man. There isn’t much choice here at all.”

Gary’s speech had the desired effect, for a short while at least. There were no sudden gabbling outbursts as before, instead everyone let the information sink in. They muttered amongst themselves in their respective groups.

Gary relaxed slightly. His hit points had been recovering in the last hour. He still wasn’t at full strength, but he was getting there.

“What about them weirdos?” an older woman asked, waving a hand at the four mercenaries positioned around the church.

Gary glanced back at them. Annabel and Morgan had stayed where they were, and were watching Gary. Forge had kneeled down and was trying to placate the body that was wrapped up in cloth and rope, his shoulders sagging.

As for Rain, her expression as she looked at Gary was even stranger than before. Her face was inscrutable, but Gary felt an intensity coming from her. As if she was observing everything more keenly than anyone else, and her mind was doing its own private calculations.

It unnerved Gary more than anything else he’d dealt with so far. He just did not know what she was thinking. She might decide that all of this was a waste of time and just kill everyone here. He believed she was capable of it.

That’s one hell of a poker face, he thought. It’s a pity I’ve never been any good at poker.

“Again,” Jonathan pointed out, “Those ‘weirdos,’ as you put it, are the reason we have any choices at all. They’re here to help, right Gary?”

“Yes, right,” Gary nodded.

He sounded more confident than he felt.

The respective groups returned to their whispering. The five teenagers were engaged in a heated, if hushed, discussion.

“What about if we, you know... the infected ones, you know we could...”

“Richard Bromley, I cannot believe you are even thinking about that! What are you suggesting, that you’re going to kill a priest?” a woman standing next to the man who had spoken shot back.

“No, no,” he replied, “Of course not, it’s a stupid idea. Sorry. I’m not thinking straight. It’s just this is all a lot, you know? It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

Consensus was being reached.

Everyone could see that Gary’s outlined choices were the only two real options. If it was a case of being stuck in the church again with the undead outside, or getting out of here, then getting out was the only option.

“Look,” Gary said, “There’s something else to think about. It’s possible, I don’t know how possible, but it’s possible that there might be a way to bring the dead back to life. I mean really back to life, not as zombies and so on but resurrected.”

One of the group had mentioned getting their sorcerer, Delphine, resurrected. Which meant that, if nothing else, it could be done. Gary figured that in the middle of all this grimness, having a shred of hope could only be a good thing.

As the various groups worked up to their decision, Gary took Jonathan to one side.

“Look, we have another problem to deal with,” he muttered.

“Oh, bring it,” Jonathan replied with sarcastic enthusiasm.

“There’s an issue with the people I came with. I’m not a hundred percent sure we can trust them.”

Jonathan’s face went pale at Gary’s words.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“No. It might be nothing, but I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I’m not sure what to make of them to be honest.”

“Right,” Jonathan nodded. “Thanks for telling me. Anything else to worry about?”

“I’m sure I can think of something,” Gary muttered.

“We’re good,” Jonathan replied.

There were more than enough issues to deal with. Gary could see the strain on Jonathan’s face increasing by the minute.

He could also feel the hunger in his stomach.

Thoughts of eating living flesh came to his mind unbidden. He tried to push the grotesque images and cravings out of his mind, but it was getting bad. It reminded Gary of when he’d quit smoking. Every time he thought he’d got a handle on the cravings, they came back out of nowhere. He averted his eyes from the living, took a step away from Jonathan.

What if I can’t control it? He thought.

“We also need to get some food,” he said.

“Yeah, agreed. Fuck knows where we’ll find any, though. If this is happening everywhere, the first thing people will do is target supermarkets.”

“Service station, maybe? If we can get on the roads.”

The two opposing groups seemed to have reached a consensus, which was that leaving was the best option. The teenagers, however, were still engaged in their hushed and hurried debate.

“What’s going on there?” Jonathan said in his school-teacher voice. The group sidled up to Gary and Jonathan.

“Thing is, sir, there’s another option here, isn’t there?”

“I don’t see...” Jonathan started.

“NOW!” the ringleader of the teenagers, a brown-haired boy, shouted.

Gary felt an explosion of pain on his forehead as the ringleader brought the hammer down on him.

He reeled backwards as he felt another pain in his gut, this one a sharp, stabbing pain. He looked up to see a seventeen-year-old girl pulling a screwdriver out of his stomach. The ringleader, meanwhile, was pulling back his hammer and planning to strike again.

Blood spurted from the pounding wound on Gary’s head, flowing into his eyes. More blood squirted out from the stab wound in his stomach.

Teenager Level 1 Survivor hit you for 4 points of damage

Teenager Level 1 Survivor hit you for 3 points of damage

“What the actual fuck?” Gary shouted as the hammer came down on his forehead again.

Teenager Level 1 Survivor hit you for 4 points of damage. You are stunned.

No shit I’m stunned, Gary thought as his body clenched up and refused to allow him to fight back or even move.

“Kill the zombie!” squealed the ringleader. “Get the experience points! Level up!”

Fucking kids! Gary swore to himself. In the meantime he had recovered up to 16 hit points, now he was right back down to 5. And in a lot of pain.

Of the five teenagers, only one of them wasn’t attacking Gary, an eighteen-year-old that was hanging back and watching. Even though he was dressed in the same black funeral atire as everyone else, something about him screamed 'stereotypical emo kid.’

The other four were out for blood.

All around Gary, chaos erupted as he reeled backwards.

Jonathan leapt in front of Gary and tried to wrestle the screwdriver from the girl. “What the hell do you think you are doing, Chantelle?”

“He’s a zombie, isn’t he?” the seventeen-year-old spat back, “That’s the only way we’re going to survive, innit? Kill the zombies, get experience points, level up.

“Oi, you, get off my daughter!” a woman shouted as Jonathan wrestled with the girl. She was surprisingly strong and kept hold of the makeshift weapon.

The other teens ducked around the wrestling teacher. The ringleader tried to hit Gary again, but he rolled out of the way just in time

“What, wait!” he shouted as a savage 2 point kick to the stomach knocked the wind out of him. “Stop! I’m not a zombie!”

“You are! The system says so!” A younger boy shouted, “Get him in the forehead with the hammer! That’ll kill him. Go on, do it!”

Gary dodged another savage attempt to smash him in the forehead. From his peripheral vision he saw that more people had piled in on the screwdriver wielding Chantelle. Some of them were trying to stop her, whilst others were defending him, turning it into a full-scale brawl within seconds.

“Christ!” Gary shouted, as a foot stomped on his face, another 2 points knocked off his total.

Red flashes blurred his vision.

Before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed a leg that was aimed at his face and took a bite out of it. His teeth tore through the teenager’s trousers, and a chunk of flesh came away.

Gary didn’t recall swallowing it. It just seemed to happen as soon as he bit down.

Eat the living. 5 Hit points restored. Teenager is infected.

“What, no, I didn’t mean to do that!” Gary yelled as the seventeen-year-old screamed in pain and fell back.

“He fucking bit Mikey!” the ringleader shouted.

“It says I’m infected!” Mikey wailed, clutching at the wound on the side of his leg. “I don’t want to be infected!”

“See? I told you he was a zombie. Look what he’s done!” Chantelle screamed.

She had broken free from Jonathan and was rounding on Gary, her face a mask of fury and hatred. Despite Jonathan’s best efforts, she’d kept hold of the screwdriver.

“Don’t you bite my boyfriend, you fucking shit!” she screamed as she raised her weapon again.

A hand grabbed hers and twisted hard. The girl screamed as her wrist snapped and the screwdriver fell to the floor.

Rain threw the girl sideways into a pew.

“Dad!” the girl screamed, looking at her right-angled wrist in horror.

“They’re all attacking us now!” someone shouted.

At which point, all hell broke loose.