Screw it, you think. There's only one way, and that's through.

You back up to give yourself some momentum, then gun it. The impact seems like it happens in slow motion. Crunching sounds and raking metal fills your ears as the Jeep rams into the cars and flips.

When it skids to a stop, you're hanging upside down in your seat. Nothing is holding you in other than your seat belt. You shake your head, trying to knock off the disoriented feeling. Through the broken windshield, you see the torn and missing shoes of the undead. Bare, rotted feet and bloody ripped pants. They're crowding around the Jeep fast.

There's a metal rod in your reach, and you take hold of it. You try to unhook the seat belt, but it's as though it's been stuck together with crazy glue.

The first undead to reach you stretches it's long rotting hand through the windshield. It's so cramped in the smashed Jeep, you can barely swing the rod to hit the gruesome thing. You stab it through it's eye instead - which works. But more are coming. They claw at you; snap and pull at you. The more you stab, the more seems to take its place, as though they're one giant hydra-head. And with horror, you realize that try as you might, you'll never be able to defeat them like this.