Getting nearer to the children screams rang out from the other side of the group. Holmes and the rest of us quickened our pace to confront this new problem. Nearing the group we could see bodies on the ground just twenty yards from the children with two of the creatures shambling towards them, fresh blood still dripping from their foul and disgusting jaws.
Egerton and Matthey immediately took aim with their rifles, each targeting one of the creatures, though wecould already see a gathering mass of the beasts approaching from a distance. Egerton’s Mauser rang out and the bullet struck the eye socket of the creature, the eye ball exploding and blood gushing from the socket. The bullet cleanly exited the beast’s skull and it tumbled to the ground. Matthey’s Mosin fired at the second but skimmed the creature’s skull, cracking the very top of it and causing the beast’s own blood to drip down its face. In a split second Matthey re-cocked the weapon with supreme efficiency and put a further round directly into the brain, the beast was finished.
The children were being herded by their teacher in through a doorway to a large wooden building of what was evidently their school, a wise move. More cries rang out from the direction we had come from. Civilians were being attacked randomly, a few gun shots rang out, but not near enough, it had begun, and we were just a matter of minutes too late to escape without a fight.
“What do we do Holmes?”
“Run and live or stand and fight?” he replied. Holmes was giving us an option, but no man could run
in this situation. The town was overrun, but this school house was a sanctuary, one which could only stay as such with our support.
“Into the school!” Cyril shouted.
The men piled through the doorway after the children and Cyril slammed the door. This was not a good situation, shut in a building with now terrible odds against us, and yet our principals would not have us do anything else. The teacher who had led the children rushed towards us.
“What is going on here?” she shouted.
“Watson, the fair sex is your department,” said Holmes. The men were taking hold of everything they could
place their hands on to barricade the door, which was fortunately reasonably sturdy to begin with. The woman expected answers from me but our situation was too desperate, no hand could be spared.
“Please excuse me Madam, but get your children upstairs to a safe a place as exists and stay there!” I shouted over the screams of the children.
She nodded in response, thank heavens, the last thing I had time for was an explanation let alone an argument.
“John, Berty, get to the other side of the building and start barricading all windows. Watson, Egerton, do the same for the side windows and any doors, Cyril and I will handle the front,” said Holmes.
They all rushed off with all urgency and understanding upon the tasks Holmes had given them, as I did. I took the easterly side whilst the two men rushed to the rear, Egerton mirroring me on the westerly side. There were three windows on my side of the school, all were a good four feet off the ground, a comforting basis for defence against an unarmed enemy.
Fortunately, being a school, every room was laid out with furniture, and plenty of it. I upturned a large wooden table and propped it against the far window, sliding several cupboards in front to secure it. The middle window had a tall wardrobe near it, which I slid across to cover the access up. Just as I finished up, glass smashed at the third and final window and an arm reached through to hoist the body up and through. Damn, these were strong creatures, and either intelligent or highly determined. My rifle being propped against the inner wall and out of reach I pulled my service revolver from its holster as the beast’s head popped through the opening. Aiming at its head at just five feet away, I let the lead loose and plastered what were nicely decorated walls with arterial red blood, the creature slumped on the window frame, lifeless.
Walking to the window where my latest victim lay, I could see more zombis trying to follow their dead comrade’s lead, big mistake. Laying my boot on the bloody head of my vanquished foe I kicked it off the window sill and onto the beasts below. Before they could recover, my revolver had the closest in sight, I fired and the bullet pierced the skull, driving down to the nerve stem, a gaping hole that left the beast tumbling to the ground. Turning my pistol on the next closest I quickly fired into the centre of the face, striking the bone of the nose, causing the bullet to deflect in to the eye socket and rip through the side of the head.
That was enough to give me time to block the hole. Taking hold of a large sideboard I slid it across and turned it upright, continuing to fling every object in sight at its base to keep it where it stood. I was content that this side of the building was as secure as could be hoped for, but before I could consider any future actions, glass smashing and the scream of a man rang out, followed by several gun shots.
I ran to the north side of the building, finding the window broken, a dead creature slumped in the bay, but no sign of the defender, just a trail of blood leading to the west side. I quickly pushed the beast over the edge with the stock of my rifle and upended a table in front of the window, weighted down by nearby chairs. Now following the path of blood, it was not a pleasant sight, nor the end I wanted to find. Furniture clattered off at the far end of the northern wall, I quickly ran to investigate.
“Egerton, Watson!” Berty cried.
Taking the corner into a new room I found a horrible site. John, now a zombe had Berty in his grasp on the floor, the two men tussled around in desperation. Not wanting to risk shooting Berty, but with a sick stomach I turned my rifle around and struck John hard on the head, he slumped to one side, unconscious. Egerton ran into the room as I offered my hand to Berty.
“Have you been bitten?” I asked urgently.
Berty looked confused, he was in shock, it was no easy task to accept your good friend has become an enemy, and especially at such short notice.
“Berty! Snap out of it, we haven’t time to waste, are you harmed?” Egerton insisted.
“No, I’m fine,” Berty replied.
That was fortunate, as we had now lost one friend and ally already, another was not acceptable. The building was safe and secure for the moment, but the hum of the creatures at our walls was ever present, as well as the odd cry of another victim that was quickly silenced. This was a bad situation we had been placed in but one that defined us. Holmes ran into the room with Cyril, weapons at the ready. They paused and looked at the bloodied body of John lying lifeless on the floor beside us.
“Was he infected?” asked Holmes.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Dead?”
“Probably not.”
“Then we must finish the job,” Holmes replied.
I argued with Holmes, we did not know the extent of this disease or whether it could be cured. There was a man who had until minutes before been our friend and ally, and now Holmes wished to remove him from this world. The very idea struck me at the core, as a doctor I could never give up on a patient so readily. Before I could finish my reasoning with Holmes a shot rang out beside me and blood splattered across the floor. Cyril had shot John in the back of the head.
“He was one of us!” I shouted.
“Us being the operative word, he was infected, he no longer had anything in common with the John I knew other than a facial resemblance. He would have brought nothing but suffering and disaster to this group. He was my friend before he was yours, and you know this to be the correct course of action, throw aside your medical ways and accept this as a necessary casualty of war!” said Cyril.