The gatehouse was as sturdy as I’d assumed, with thick iron hinges and diagonally placed bulky timber bracing the gate itself. Given a few days, the dead might’ve been able to bring enough weight to bear to get through, but I was going to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Do you need anything from my men?” asked Layton.

“Only enough firewood to make sure the job’s done right,” I replied, climbing the steps to the stone wall. “Oh, and tell them to keep low and out of sight for a little while. I’m going to round them up.”

“Do you need a rope?” he called after me.

“Nope,” I said, jumping out and over the dead.

They all heard the thud of impact and started to shamble after me. I pulled out my sword and shield and started to bang them together. “Feeding time!” I yelled, drawing them all away from the town. The wind changed direction, blowing their stench away from me and I thanked whatever air god was watching for the brief reprieve.

“This way, folks!” I cried, wondering how my Pied Piper routine was going over with those watching covertly from the defences.

I slowly walked the entire perimeter of the town which took quite a while. By the time I was done, the crowd had swollen to nearly a thousand corpses in varying states of decomposition. There were some that could barely be classed as a zombie. I likened them more to skeleton warriors from the games I’d played, minus the weapons.

“That’s it! Keep it coming!” I shouted, drawing them back towards the cemetery.

Finding a clearing beside the huge graveyard that could accommodate my plan, I jogged away from the horde and started to lay out the goblin explosives in a series of rows. Figuring their shambling gait would knock them all out of position, I took out my war hammer and punched deep holes with the stone head before dropping the boom packages inside. Tearing the casing of the tenth box, I quickly used the trickling powder to link up my trap.

Despite my orders, a large number of the citizens had climbed up to watch the show. I noticed Selene and her monks were among them.

“At least they aren’t trying to burn Abby,” I said to the approaching zombies.

The gurgling, lumbering horde continued to pursue me as I finished my trail of powder. Enough of the dead were in position, so I withdrew a torch and lit my fuse. Dropping to the mist-wreathed ground, I wrapped my head in my arms. The fizzle-hiss of burning powder changed to a deafening series of explosions that shook the ground beneath me. I glanced up as nine pillars of roiling fire soared into the sky, carrying hundreds of burning bodies and thousands of individual parts. I was on my feet in an instant as the steaming gore began to rain down. Running away from the awful deluge of sundered zombies, I reached a safe distance and turned to survey the damage. The huge blast had wiped out ninety percent of the group, or at least incapacitated them to the point they just needed collecting and stacking on the pyre.

I was about to begin mopping up the survivors when I heard the shriek of unoiled hinges. Looking over the top of the dead, I watched as a detachment of the town guard marched out in formation, led by Layton.

I ran around the zombies and made for the mayor. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Forgive me, Mark, but once you leave, we’ll be on our own again. My men need to know what it is they face. They need to know how to deal with them.”

At the start of my volunteering journey I’d have tried to talk them out of it and fought the battle myself. Layton was right, though. “Fine. My advice would be to go for their legs. Cut them down like a tree and the rest is that much easier to chop up. Let me show you.”

I picked a man who was still wearing the finery of his burial. This wasn’t someone who dwelt beneath the ground. Using my sword I swiped sideways, cutting through both knees. He hit the dirt and started to crawl toward us, and I took both arms at the elbow. Not to be deterred, he tried to crawl using the stumps.

“Now the head,” I said, slipping to his side and cutting it off in one go. “And then the last bits of limb.”

All that remained was a trail of twitching parts. A few of the soldiers looked a bit ill, but they remained stoic.

Layton’s arm whipped up. “Mark! Look out!”

I was well aware of the nearing cadaver. She held no threat to me and I just walked away, withdrawing my crossbow. Yanking the string, I put a little more distance between us then fired the crackling bolt straight at her heart. The resulting explosion blew her to pieces, and I kicked myself for not using the weapon sooner.

“Any questions?”

The men were all gaping at me. I’d stopped a sacrifice in spectacular fashion. Blown up hundreds of the dead with goblin bombs. And now I was wielding a crossbow infused with holy-lightning. None of them seemed keen to question me.

“Good. Carry on then, and I’ll step in if it gets too dangerous.”

I joined Layton closer to the town and watched the soldiers form up into a battle-line. Their own shields were taller than mine by a few inches, and they locked them together as the zombies descended on them. The living and dead clashed with heavy grunts on our side, and excited groans on theirs. Watching like a hawk, I was happy to see the men work as a cohesive entity. Those at the front held their ground, putting everything into bracing their legs against the press of flesh. The men behind jabbed through the gaps with spears, piercing the zombies without doing much damage.

“Use your swords!”

Those with the spears tossed them out of the way and tried to bring their broadswords to bear. They couldn’t get at the legs, and the awkward angle made it difficult to even cleave the heads. I could understand their desire to keep a barrier up, but it was that very same barrier that was messing with their ability to fight.

“That’s not going to work, gents! Your shield wall is good, but you’ll get tired before they do!”

“What should they do?” asked Layton.

I answered his question directly to the valiant soldiers. “Fall back and toss the shields. You’re way faster than they are. Use that speed and pick them apart. You can’t fight these things like normal people.”

Without waiting for Layton’s confirmation, the rows of men yielded carefully until they had a bit of breathing room. Their shields clattered to the ground, followed by the rasp of withdrawn swords from the frontline soldiers.

I moved to get a better view. “That’s it! Careful now!”

They still approached the enemy as a group, which ensured their foe remained as one large mass of threats.

“Split up! Give each other some space! Don’t crowd together!”

I could see they weren’t used to fighting in this style and rushed back in to give them some support. Choosing to go straight through the horde, I used my strength to literally charge them with my shield raised, firing off a Shield Bash to scatter them like bowling pins.

“Take your pick!” I yelled, doing the same with a couple of festering rotters.

They came apart under my frenzied blows, and the men took strength from my display. Fanning out, they began goading their chosen enemy, leading them into a wider space. Blades sang as they dismembered the remaining zombies. One soldier got caught by four at the same time when he fell over a rock while backing away. I cast Shimmer Strike and blasted them aside with another Shield Bash. Pulling him to his feet, I left the man to clear up the mess and regain some of his wounded pride.

In less than five minutes, the uprising was nothing more than a slaughterhouse of body parts. I was tempted to rejoice at how easy the world was proving to be, but I knew Mr Karma was watching closely, just waiting for an opportunity to beat me over the head with a rubber dildo. I settled for a round of congratulations among the guardsmen who grimaced at the movement all around our feet. A hand crawled up onto my boot and I shuddered before kicking it away.

“Is it time for the wood, Mark?” asked Layton.

“Unless you want to stitch them all back together and bury them again, I’d say yes.”

The mayor wasn’t keen on that idea. “Seven preserve us, no. I think we need to ensure the dead stay dead. Bring the wood!”

The gates opened again, this time allowing dozens of citizens and guards to emerge with logs and kindling in place of weapons. Myself and the blooded warriors took up position at the edge of the preparations, kicking or using our weapons to fend off the relentless extremities. It became ridiculous, and I called the mayor over.

“Can you bring us some sacks or something. These things are starting to piss me off.”

“Yes, of course,” replied Layton, barking orders at the guards atop the gate. He joined our efforts, gingerly thwarting a hand’s attempt to climb his leg. “From where do you hail, stranger? We are most fortunate that you’re here in our time of need.”

“You wouldn’t have heard of it.”

“Is it common in your land to have paladins like yourself? Does your order still hold sway?”

“I’m the last, but I have a group of warriors who fight with me. They’ll be arriving in Tulahr soon.”

“Truly? Then we might well be saved from this doom.”

“Don’t get too confident,” I replied, warning myself to do the same. Not everything we faced was going to be weakened with decay and slower than a Monday at work with a hangover.

“I know we’re only an outlying settlement, but I appreciate your aid nonetheless. Did you arrive via the port of Anchorage?”

“Erm, yeah.”

“Marvellous! You must’ve sampled the crab while you were there. What did you think?”

“Delicious,” I lied.

“It’s a shame this blight has prevented so much in the way of trade. I’d give anything to taste one of their daggerfin steaks again.” Layton punted away a full leg that had managed to scissor itself over to us. “Eugh, it’s enough to put a man off his food.”

“But not quite, eh?” I teased.

The mayor took it in good humour and rubbed his belly. “When times are good, my belt complains incessantly. I fear I’m going to be losing a few notches by the time this is done.”

“Have people provisioned for this war? One of my past quests proved it was vital to victory.”

“We have enough to see out the year,” Layton replied. “As far as I know, the queen and her advisors have been stockpiling as much as they can. If there was trouble, she would’ve sent a force of men to take a tithe.”

That was at least one thing off my list of issues.

“Where do you think you’ll go next, hero?”

“I’m hoping I can figure that out once we’ve had our chat. All I know is I was drawn here by the evil. What path I take from there is never clear at first.”

“Then I hope I can assist you in whatever way I can.”

We fell into silence as the townsfolk stacked the pyre. The guardsmen reappeared with heavy sacks and started to collect the hands and heads. It was bizarre to watch. Like something out of a community rubbish collection back on Earth. They would spear the part, be it head or hand, and slip it into the bags before moving onto the next.

I glanced back at the wall and found Selene and her entourage missing. I wouldn’t shed any tears if they had just fucked off back to the monastery or wherever they came from. It wasn’t as if they brought any value in terms of combat prowess. The monks would only serve as meals for the risen dead.

“Paladin Mark?”

I turned back to the mayor and found him holding out a burning torch toward me. The huge pyres were topped with the remains and ready to burn.

“Would you care to say a few words from your holy order before we return our kin to the grave?”

I refused to take the offering. I didn’t know any passages that would help. Hell, I’d only attended choir practice at school because it got me out of Friday afternoon math. “They’re your families. You should be the ones to send them off with a prayer.”

He pondered that for a moment before nodding. “Yes, you’re right.”

“I’ll say a few words later, when I’m alone,” I quickly added.

Layton smiled. “Very good. I know that will give us strength.”

All around the stacked timber, the men of their household thrust the torches into the straw and backed away. The fires quickly took hold, peeling back the sackcloth to reveal the still-moving parts within. The curling tongues of flame licked the actual tongues of the zombie heads, turning them black. The wind shifted, blowing the stink of burning rot my way.

“Shall we get that drink now?” asked Layton, holding a handkerchief to his nose. “Wine, mead, or something stronger?”

“Just water for me, mayor,” I replied. “I need to keep my wits about me.”

A bloodied man came running through the gates, causing us both to pause in shock. It was one of Abby’s guards.