Smith punched the wall, “Shit, arse, fuck!”
“So we can’t go back to the church and that route is filling up with more of the undead. We’re running out of options.”
Captain Scott moved over to the men, interrupting Smith.
“It’s no good, Sergeant. There are more of them coming from the church. We need to move and fast.”
Jones answered first, pointing to the tunnel he had so recently returned from, “We can’t go that way, the place is crawling with those bastards.”
Captain Scott turned to Sergeant Smith.
“In that case we need to take your tunnel. Is it clear?”
Smith, taking in a breath, answered.
“The tunnel is clear but I’ve got no clue where it goes. I didn’t see or hear any of those things in there though.”
The Captain looked around the room, examining their situation. Archer had held off the first wave coming from the left tunnel, whilst the few that had followed them were now in a dismembered pile on the floor. There was still the sound of more of them following though; they couldn’t stay there for much longer.
“If the tunnel is clear of those things then it’s an improvement, get the rest and move out. There are more of them on the way. Keep the weapons to the rear, we need to keep them away as long as we can.”
The officer made to move and then turned back, “Save your ammunition unless you really have to use it, in this space we should be able to go hand to hand. Keep the bullets for the surface.”
The two men nodded in agreement. Smith lifted Jones to his feet and both men moved to the rest of the group.
* * *
Steiner dropped to the ground, the photographer holding his arms until the last minute, reducing his fall to only a few feet. As he touched the floor the sword that was still thrust into his belt tapped the ground. It wasn’t a loud sound but was enough to send his pulse racing. Steiner pulled himself up against the wall and kept himself still. He looked around, checking for any signs of the undead. So far so good, there was no sign of anything moving within a few hundred feet of the house. He looked up towards the roof, spotting the shapes of the photographer and the other man. He signalled to them both and then moved towards the small structure that housed the truck. Creeping very slowly he noticed that the truck was in a better state than they had assumed. It was covered up in thick canvas but several of its tyres were low or flat. It was pretty obvious that the vehicle hadn’t been used for some time. Steiner moved in closer, working his way around to the front of the vehicle. The bonnet was up and the engine bay was full of dust. Next to the truck was a broken down kubelwagen, the common German utility vehicle. The back of the car was crushed and the engine was in pieces on the floor. It looked like somebody had been working on it recently. Leaving the car he moved back to the truck, checking the engine for signs of damage or repair. Luckily the engine bay appeared clear of damage and the canvas sheeting had done its job by keeping dust and debris away from the vulnerable components.
Steiner moved back a little and gestured towards the men on the roof to keep a good lookout. The last thing Steiner needed was for any of the creatures to catch him near the vehicle. In this position he had no way to escape and nobody to help him if he hit trouble. From their rooftop position the two survivors scanned the area, each looking down the barrel of his weapon, so far so good. Steiner turned back to the truck and looked for the ignition system. It was time to see if this old machine worked.
* * *
The situation underground was getting desperate. Since leaving the room they had found the tunnel condition worsening. At points each person had to crawl through small areas where parts of the wall and roof had caved in. It was incredible that they were still able to keep moving. Even worse, the undead seemed perfectly attuned to moving in the tunnel and in the darkness. It was as though the creatures could sense or even smell the living as they tried to get away. Smith led the group whilst Trent and Harris helped the civilians who were finding it hard to make progress. At the front they were stopped by something large blocking the tunnel. From what they could see it appeared to be the roots of a tree. It was much too substantial to move but luckily for them the soil was soft. Smith and Jones started digging away with their weapons, quickly revealing the tunnel behind. Captain Scott pushed himself up to the two sergeants.
“What’s the problem? We need to keep moving.”
Smith, without pausing explained.
“Looks like a tree or something is blocking the tunnel. We’re digging through, it’ll be a minute or two.”
The Captain looked back, the faint glimmer of the last two torches flickering at the end of the group. He looked back at the two men.
“You get any ammo left?”
Jones fidgeted, then handed over a pistol clip. Smith had nothing.
“You two keep at it, I’ll do what I can at the rear. Move as fast as you can!”
The two redoubled their efforts whilst the Captain moved back to Archer who was still watching the tail end.
“Any sign of them?” he asked.
Archer, without moving from his position whispered quietly.
“Yeah, I spotted a group a way back. They’ll be here real soon.”
Captain Scott pulled out his Colt and held it up so he could see it more clearly in the flickering light. Taking out the clip he could make out the bullets at the top of the magazine. He could have no more than five or six bullet remaining. He whispered to the rest of the group.
“Anybody with a weapon I need here, you have to hold them back. Until they clear the blockage we’re stuck.”
Harris and Trent moved back to a help Captain Scott and Archer at the end of the tunnel. Though they had almost no ammunition left they did have two Enfields, both with bayonets fitted to them. These were wicked weapons and just what was needed for this kind of fighting. Trent held up one of the last remaining torches whilst brandishing his spike bayonet in his right hand.
“Can you hear that?” said Trent.
The group strained their hearing; they could hear a scratching sound. It wasn’t coming from the direction they were all watching. The young Frenchman, still brandishing his now empty Sten stepped back, moving himself to the wall of the tunnel. Almost immediately a hand pushed through the soft soil of the tunnel wall and grabbed at his throat. With a shout of surprise a mud covered head emerged and bit down into his throat, biting so hard that the young man fell down with the thing on top of him. Stood next to him the other three French civilians tried to pull the creature off him but it was too late. The blood loss was so great he was dead in almost seconds. Another part of the tunnel wall collapsed, burying the older man in the group. Three of the creatures crawled out of the filth, biting and grabbing at them.
As if this wasn’t enough, the attack from the main tunnel finally started. A large group had obviously been trying to find them and the sound of the fighting had drawn them in. With the familiar wailing and groaning the pack of undead monsters hit the rear of the column.
Archer expended his last few bullets from his trusty Bren gun, the burst cutting a deadly swathe through the tunnel and knocking down at least four of them. The horde continued though, simply walking over the recently shot to reach the soldiers. As they reached close range Trent and Harris started their deadly work. After months of hard drilling they were well used to the stabbing and thrusting techniques. Both men stabbed hard at the torsos and heads of the creatures, each thrust sending a good six inches of hardened steel deep inside the bodies of the undead. Captain Scott held his fire until the last moment, firing single shots, each one at a separate creature. He was going to make every single bullet count.