I find a fighting withdrawal as it is known is a nightmare to do. I am being harried by Ghouls as I am walking back up the road I came down.

I have counted a mixture of male and female to nine Ghouls, I think. It is hard to tell with them using the fog as cover. Some are injured by the way they are moving. The dart forwards out of the fog seemly to attack to draw my attention while another then comes from a different direction.

I have been able to hold them off by constantly moving, keeping my shield up and using the houses on both sides to channel them. The problem is that I am running out of buildings.

I Ghoul rushes out of the fog attacking me. I swing my axe at the shape heading towards me. I hit the right arm near the shoulder. I hear a crack like sound on impact.

“AAARRGH!” The Ghoul stops the attack and jumps back. Black blood oozes from the injury. The Ghoul retreats back into the fog. Trailing blood. Snarls come from different directions.

Another comes from the other side. It comes in low going from my legs. I twist and strike down with my axe. I catch the Ghoul in the head digging deep into its skull. The creature collapses and goes limp. Gore spatters about as I pulled my axe back. Snarls and screams of rage echo out of the fog at this. I keep moving.

This is getting old fast!

They are going to rush me from different angles as soon as we are on more open terrain. The animal part of my brain was warring against me. Close in one Ghoul will be able to take me down. The memory of my last encounter with Ghouls is still fresh.

This fact is keeping the anger inside of me alight. I feel like I am being toyed with. I am using anger to focus on staying alive. It is countering the cold trying to seep into every joint. Letting it dominate me would get me killed. I look at the shapes moving in the fog.

I am not sure why they are not overwhelming me now. They have the numbers and if I run, I am a dead man. Then why not I am confused at this. I have been running on survival instincts so far but this slowdown has got me wondering.

The last time I was ambushed and from what I remember from the reports that they only attack from a position of strength. Have I rattled them? Could that be the reason?

I will not have the advantage much longer. I will have to gamble. So, I will attack as it is the best form of defence.

The next Ghoul that lunged at me from the fog got a real surprise with me moving to meet it with my axe. The blow caught it in the shoulder. The injury caused it to howl in pain and quickly retreat. I went back to moving up the road with the following.

Again, another came and was driven back with a glancing blow to an arm. This one had burns on its body. It manages to strike at me but the claw glances off my shield.

The Ghouls were still moving in the fog but the attacks had stopped for now. I think I was close to more open ground. They would come soon in force. A few minutes later I was proven right almost.

A Ghoul charged at speed from the fog but to its surprise got my shield to its face as I went forward to meet it. Another was close behind coming from my left. I was just able to get my axe into a swing motion in time. The strike was a glancing blow across its head. Wounding the male but not much. They both fell back.

I could not risk going for my flare gun as this will leave me at a major disadvantage. The odds were however clearly against me I need support. I have to just keep moving. The game continues.

Over the maybe next ten minutes the Ghouls continue to harass me but do not try to outflank me now that we are on more open ground. They just keep hit and run attacks coming. My shield had now had damage from three more claw strikes on it and several Ghouls had a few more injuries.

I realise how far we have come when we reach the abandoned people carrier, which I discovered on the way in. It is here I discovered why the Ghouls had not overrun me and my luck ran out.

They were waiting for the Alpha.

“ROOOOAAAARRRRRR!” That was all the warning I got. As it attacked.

It came out of the fog like a freight train smashing into me and throwing me from my feet. My back collided with the road and the wind was knocked out of me. I lost my axe. My Shield arm was numb from the force of the impact. I did not have time to think anymore as my shield was grabbed and yanked. As I was strapped to the shield, I went with it.

I got my first look at the Ghoul briefly. It was massive, male, taller and heavier than me. Stronger to as I was physically thrown into the people carrier.

Pain flared through my entire body from the impact. My vision was blurry as my head collided with the vehicle frame. I had no time to recover as I was again grabbed and then smashed back into the people carrier. The windows exploded and the frame was bent inward.

My body was not just protesting the pain being inflicted now but the injuries. I could not tell how badly I was injured as again I was being manhandled.

This time I was thrown along the road. I bounced along spinning at one point, I think.

This is not good.

The Ghoul was walking towards me I realised through the pain and world spinning. I was able to pull my gladius out when it grabbed and pulled me up again. I struck out hoping to wound it. I make contact.

“AARRGGGHH!” That was all I heard as I went airborne again. I lost hold of my gladius in flight.

I hit something solid again which only increased my pain.

Everything was wobbly?

I quickly focused as best I could. This might be the only chance I found and pulled out my flare gun after fumbling around. Aiming where I hoped the sky was in my dazed state. I pulled the trigger and felt the kick of the gun firing.

I could not even begin to hope when a clawed hand flashed in front of me knocking on my left. Pain flared across my chest as my blood flew from the impact as well as the flare gun.

Again, I was grabbed and lifted this time from behind and smashed down onto something. Red, I think? My world was mostly pain. I rolled onto my back.

I was lifted by my shield again upwards and then smashed down.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Pain flared each time. Increasingly worse. That last time something tore in my body and the most intense pain ever flooded through me. The pain did allow me to focus briefly. My faceplate was gone. My breathing was not sounding good. Am I coughing up blood?

The Ghoul was pulling my gladius from its side. Grunting from the pain. My shield arm was hanging limply and I could not move it. Half of my shield was missing. I went for the last weapon I had my trench knife. I got my hand into the knuckle duster pommel. Then was in the air before being smashed down again.

The next one was onto my right side with my shield. There was a sickly pop and I could move my fingers again a little.

Something had distracted the Ghoul as it was looking at several others that were now nearby.

I gathered all I had left and began moving. The Ghoul’s back was to me and had not noticed. The pain was keeping just focused enough and my anger rose to meet it. I had only one attempt in me to do this.

I was on the massively dented bonnet of the red car. I was swaying as I got up. The pain was everywhere. Rage now and adrenaline pumping through me. It was closer than I thought. The trench knife in my hand the blade pointing down.

I jumped forward wrapping my mostly useless right arm around the Ghoul’s neck as my left drove the blade into its skull.

The blade went in but at an angle. Pain flared again as I was thrown off the Ghoul. I hit the ground hard. I think I bounced.

That’s me.

No more to give.

My vision was blurry at best.

I think to myself “I hate flying”.

I just lay there. Then roll onto my back. Grey and red above me?

Sounds around me. Ghouls.

Not something else? I try to focus.

Voices?

Darkness is gathering in my mind pulling me down. Time to die, I think.

Darkness.

## ## ## ## ##

Gregson stands at the edge of the zone with the base camp security team and additional support further behind. Lieutenant Greco was with him. Neither was in a good mood. As soon as the white flare was seen by the drones above the support team advanced into the zone.

The blue flare was a good sign then later the green. The C&C tent was hopeful. The civilians had made it out of the zone not long after and what was happening inside was quickly guessed at. Ghouls.

Ghouls in numbers.

This information was pulled quickly from the civies and caused Meyer to have all the support teams at the base camp put on alert to go in. Additional messages were being sent out for reinforcements. The threat level here was escalating fast. This zone could quickly begin expanding again.

Reports from the other zones were more in line with what was expected. Euro Corps were diverting as much as they could as fast as they could. John’s status was still unknown. The looks in the tent were not expecting the best. As time went on, they only got bleaker.

Smith was in a hushed conversation with his French counterpart. The command staff was rapidly updating Meyer or transmitting his orders. That was when the white flare was seen. Meyer saw how close it was and sent all of the available teams in.

That was how Gregson found himself waiting. Gregson was not rated for zone entry and hated deeply being a bystander in most of this.

Smith joined them waiting.

“Any word?” He asks. Gregson shakes his head.

Lieutenant Greco’s focus is on the pad in her hands. Information was constantly being updated to it.

“Euro Corps has raised the threat level again.” She tells them. They both nod at this.

Suddenly figures began to emerge from the fog. Members of the support team. Most wounded.

Lieutenant Greco identifies one and begins talking in French. The soldier answers. She looks at Smith and Gregson.

“It’s bad they engaged a large group of Ghouls where the flare was fired from. They have driven them off but with casualties. Operative Harrington has been recovered but is in a critical condition.” She informed them.

More members of the support team emerged from the fog and medical teams rushed to meet the wounded. They were quickly organised by injury. Several were being carried out.

“There!” Smith said pointing at two soldiers carrying the battered and broken form of John. He was a mess the front of his armour was ripped open and deep claw marks were visible.

Medical teams swarm around the wounded and carried them away. Lieutenant Greco was in conversation with the team leader. As he spoke, she was rapidly typing into her pad.

Smith went to the C&C and Gregson followed the wounded John.