Without warning, two arrows appeared in the left zombie’s forehead.

It looked stunned for a second, then fell backwards. The zombie to Gary’s right was suddenly headless as an enormous axe tore through its neck.

Gary was in too much pain and too exhausted to feel much cheer.

He turned to see Forge beside him and Morgan a few steps back. Annabel’s hands were glowing, as was her sword. Rain was behind Gary. She put a knife to his throat.

“Step backwards if you want to live,” she hissed.

Gary was too tired and injured to point out that she didn’t need to put a knife to his throat. Instead, he did as he was told, taking careful steps backwards.

“You decided to help, after all,” he mumbled.

“Something like that,” Rain said, “Now be silent and let them work.”

It only took a few moments for the undead horde to register there were living beings in the churchyard again. They abandoned the doors and streamed towards the warrior, rogue and cleric. Gary estimated there were perhaps two hundred and fifty left. Overall, he’d taken out a hundred and fifty by himself.

Gary’s legs, neck and chest were soaked in blood. He knew by now that he would recover his hit points and the bleeding would stop at an unnatural rate, but there was a lot of blood flowing. He pushed Rain’s knife away and slumped down on three corpses that were piled together. He was past caring that they had once been living people. He was just exhausted.

“Bandages,” he said. “Do you have any bandages?”

Rain glanced down at him. She still looked at him with that expression of studying an interesting insect. But she produced some bandages. Gary wrapped one around his neck, pulling it tight to stop the bleeding. He silently thanked whatever god was out there that he was immune to infection.

He tried to wrap another bandage around his shoulder and chest, but found it too awkward. Rain intervened with swift, brusque movements, pulling them tight. Gary winced, but didn’t complain.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Don’t thank me,” Rain said, “It wasn’t my idea to come back for you.”

“So why did you?”

Rain pointed in the trio’s direction as they faced the oncoming horde.

“Their idea.”

“Well, uh, thanks anyway, I guess,” Gary responded.

Rain didn’t reply. Her eyes were focussed on her companions as they prepared to face the horde. Gary took a moment to examine the woman in more detail. She was late twenties or maybe early thirties. Her skin was dark blue. Her black hair was cropped short, and everything about her athletic figure seemed ready to burst into swift violence at any second. Aside from the two knives strapped to her thighs, she carried nothing, although Gary knew she could have any number of items hidden in her stash.

Gary had noticed something otherworldly about her gestures and behaviour. Her tendency for sharp, simple statements followed by lengthy silences emphasised the oddness he felt about her. It was like she had no connection to the people around her. Gary supposed assassins had little use for empathy. Showing concern for others would put a serious dent in your ability to do your job.

“Can I ask where you met the others?” he asked.

Rain glanced at him, her eyes rolling.

“This isn’t a getting-to-know-you moment,” she dismissed. “Watch.”

She pointed at Forge, Morgan and Annabel.

The first of the zombies shuffled towards them. As Gary had seen them do before, Morgan took up a position behind Forge, using his arrows for support. This time, however, Annabel was also in front, standing side by side with the massive warrior.

Morgan had taken out six of the undead with his arrows before they reached the group. Then the first wave of twelve hit them. Forge cleaved through five of them with a single blow. Annabel chopped and hacked at the rest, taking them out two at a time. Her glowing sword burned the undead as they neared. Their flesh scorched as it sliced through them.

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More of them shuffled forward, heedless of the danger. Forge and Annabel continued to cleave and chop at them, whilst Morgan shot arrows at those attempting to flank the group.

There were too many for him to cover, though. Within less than half a minute, the horde had spread either side of the lethal trio. Morgan stashed his bow and produced a sword. As the horde encircled them, Annabel shouted something and placed her hand on the ground, causing a spray of burning light to spread through the undead. Another half a dozen fell, burned by the light.

Still, the horde advanced.

“They’re surrounded!” Gary said, “We should help.”

“No. My job is to keep you safe,” Rain said. “Nothing else.”

Some zombies shuffled away from the group and towards Rain, sensing she might be an easier target. Rain made quick work of them with her knives, almost before Gary had noticed she had left his side.

Why is protecting me on the agenda now? Gary wondered. Why did they come back to help?

Not that he was complaining. Without the help of the other four, he’d be dead by now. Frustration and exhaustion had got the better of him. He’d made a sloppy mistake, attacking two of the heavys at the same time.

He wondered what level 3 was for the undead, or level 4. How high did the levels go, in fact? And did they become more intelligent as they rose in level? If so, Gary had another problem to worry about. It seemed as if only the level 1’s had no intelligence, which was why he’d been able to attack them without reprisal. But if they gained in intelligence as they became more powerful, then his being invisible to the undead might not be as useful as he’d thought.

The trio were surrounded now, but they had kept their circle of combat as large as possible. Body after body fell as the undead shambled towards them, moaning and clawing. Forge switched from an axe to a hammer, a lighter weapon which he attacked with faster than the axe. His upswings sent two or three of the undead flying at once, whilst his downswings shattered them to the ground.

Annabel and Morgan contented themselves with aiming for the heads, slicing through as many as they could.

As impressive as the display was, Gary felt anxious. He could see the same problem he’d observed earlier. It wasn’t that the undead were any kind of threat to the warriors, one-on-one, or even five-on-one.

It was that at some point, the sheer numbers were in danger of overwhelming the trio.

The distance between the three warriors tightened. Their circle of combat diminished in as the dead pressed on.

And then the danger passed.

The three fought back, and as the bodies piled up around them, the dead attacking them dropped in numbers. Soon there was only a small circle of thirty remaining. Then twenty. With a few more blows, the group finished them as well.

The church grounds were strewn with corpses, some of them piled four high. None of them moving any longer.

“You did it!” Gary shouted with exultation.

It was over.

*

Forge, Annabel and Morgan were all breathing heavily as the rain washed over them. The battle had taken maybe half an hour, but it had been relentless. The three of them looked wiped out. It wouldn’t have taken a much larger horde to overwhelm them, Gary thought. If they’d faced off against the total number before I chipped away at them, they might have gone down. As it was, their armour and clothes were shredded.

It startled him to realise that, as impressive as the group looked, they were still vulnerable. Forge’s angry words about the situation being hopeless made more sense now. This was just a fraction of what they had been fighting against in the past.

Still, they had chosen to fight.

My little speech must have had more of an impact than I realised, Gary thought.

Belatedly, he felt guilt for having accused them of being cowardly deserters. It occurred to him he didn’t know what they had endured up to now.

“I got scratched,” Morgan said, “the bastard infected me.”

Annabel moved to examine the wound on Morgan’s arm. She muttered a few words and her hands glowed, healing the wound and removing the infection.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Okay, that’s done,” Forge stated. “Annabel, close up the tent and...”

“What about Delphine? It won’t stash with a body inside it.”

Forge swore, “I forgot about her. Right, one second. Everyone wait here and stay sharp.”

Forge strode across to the entrance of the half-a-dimension-distant tent and vanished inside. He returned a few moments later with the undead Delphine, still wrapped in cloth and tied with ropes, slung over his shoulder.

“I’m sure your one true love is going to be thrilled to hear you forgot about her when she resurrects,” Morgan chuckled.

“Well, she would be, if anyone were to tell her about it,” Forge bantered back, with a mock threat in his voice.

Gary stood up, his body still aching. The pain where he had been bitten on his leg and shoulder had died down, however.

He approached Forge.

“So, I just wanted to say thanks,” he began, “And I hope there are no hard feelings for the things I said earlier...”

Forge cut him off with an abrupt gesture. “Don’t thank me yet. It isn’t over.”

“Right. Right. We still have to get the people inside to safety, I suppose.”

Gary’s stomach growled. It was getting close to six in the evening and he hadn’t eaten since this morning. Between that and all the physical exertion he’d put in, his body was begging for sustenance.

His mind drifted to the thought that there were four delicious living creatures in his proximity.

I bet they all taste so, so good... he thought.

“Gary?”

Gary was startled out of his half-conscious musings.

“Yes, Forge?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What? No, nothing, sorry, just tired.”

What the hell was I thinking? Gary wondered, horrified.

He reassured himself that he was just tired, that these stray thoughts were just that, stray, random thoughts.

Of course I’m not going to eat anyone, he chided himself, don’t be ridiculous.

You’re right, his hungry internal voice replied, this lot is far too tough to eat. They’d chop you up in seconds. But I bet there’s one or two tasty morsels in the church...

Gary squeezed his eyes shut, willing the random, vile thoughts and cravings away.

I refuse to think about this!

No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, his stomach growled.

Maybe there’ll be sandwiches in the church, he thought.