The inside of St Mary’s was a mess.

It took Gary twenty minutes of negotiation at the church’s side door to persuade the fearful people inside he was here to help. After a debate, the people inside opened the door and allowed Gary and the others inside.

“What is this, medieval cosplay day?” someone asked, indicating the outlandish garb of Forge, Annabel, Morgan and Rain.

“Yeah, something like that,” Gary replied. It was quicker and easier than saying “No, these are mercenaries from a parallel universe.”

St Mary’s had been built on a classical Anglican crucifix structure, with a central nave leading up to the chancel, with the pulpit and lectern on either side and the altar behind. A large wooden cross hung behind that, although in the Anglican tradition it didn’t depict the crucifixion. To the left of the chancel was the priest’s vestry. A series of grey stone arches lined the nave, and stained glass windows were set into the walls, starting nine feet from the ground.

Most of the wooden pews had been stacked against the main door. St Mary’s priest, Father Andrew’s, had kept a toolbox in the vestry for minor jobs here and there. Where possible, the occupants had hammered nails into the pews against the main entrance, reinforcing it. The group was equipped with a hammer, screwdrivers and even a spanner to defend themselves. Two more were brandishing heavy, wrought iron candlesticks that were five feet in height and were tipped with two-inch spikes to hold the candles.

These paltry tools were the only weapons they had mustered from the toolbox.

There were twenty-five people still in the church, but four of them, including the priest, were looking pale and sickly. There was blood on the floor, and a body had been pulled to one side. The coffin that had contained the body the people had been here to mourn was overturned.

“What happened here?” Gary asked.

He’d established that a man called Jonathan, a Physical Education teacher, had assumed leadership of the group.

Jonathan’s youthful face was gaunt.

“When it happened, the slug things... everyone panicked. No-one knew what was happening. One of the older people had a heart attack on the spot. It wasn’t fatal, but whilst everyone was panicking about that and trying to deal with it, Adam…”

Jonathan’s voice trailed off, and he pointed at the overturned coffin.

“He came back. Started to attack people. Father Andrew’s was the first to intervene, calling upon the lord to save us. He tried to reason with Adam. But Adam, the thing that Adam was, bit him. Then everything went even crazier. People tried to push him off the rev, they got scratched and bitten. I don’t… he was always such a good kid, you know? Killed crossing the road, of all things. Hit and run.”

Jonathan paused, shook his head, and tried to focus his thoughts.

“A couple of people grabbed those iron candlestick holders to fight him… it off. Someone found the tool box in the vestry and we overpowered it. Killed him, again. It was horrible. His parents were trying to defend him, but he attacked them next. By that point, some people had already fled. Then we saw more of them, the dead, coming towards the church. It was chaos. No-one could phone anyone, no-one knew what to do. So I took charge, said we had to stay here, where it was safe. Wait for the military to sort it out. But then Brian, he persuaded some people that they had to leave, right now, before it was too late. I tried to reason with them, to stop them. But Brian wouldn’t listen. He was half out of his mind, so I let them go.

“Then we heard the screaming.”

Jonathan looked horrified. “I shouldn’t have let them go.”

“No,” Gary said. “You did the right thing keeping as many people here as you could. It wasn’t your fault, okay? You saved these people.”

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“Did any of them make it? The ones who went outside?”

Gary shook his head. “I tried to help them, but it was too late.” Jonathan nodded, his eyes bleak.

“Is this the end? I mean, is this it? The actual zombie apocalypse?”

“I don’t know,” Gary said. “From what the others have told me, its not looking good. But we’re still alive, aren’t we?”

“Then there are these screen things,” Jonathan said, flicking his fingers up to activate his personal screen, “What’s all this about? And then there are these local maps showing how many undead are nearby…”

Jonathan stared at Gary with sudden horror and fear in his eyes

“Ah, wait,” Gary said. “I’m not undead, okay? It’s a mistake in the system. Trust me, okay? I wouldn’t have spent all that time clearing out the undead outside if I was one of them. It’s just a mistake, okay?.”

The fear in Jonathan’s eye’s abated. The rain earlier had washed off the dirt, dust and blood that had caked Gary’s face and clothes, leaving him looking relatively normal. Sodden wet, but normal. Apart from his overlarge teeth and clawed hands. Gary had taken the precaution of putting his heavy duty gloves back on before entering the church.

“Who are those people?” Jonathan asked, pointing at the group of mercenaries.

“They’re friends. Well, allies I guess,” Gary said. “They’re here to help. They can do stuff, they’ve got abilities and powers. They saved me and they saved everyone here.”

Jonathan nodded, “Okay, good.”

The two of them were sitting on a bench in the middle of the church, where they could confer. After the initial explosion of questions from the group in the church, gabbled demands and angry remonstrations, Jonathan had told everyone else to calm down and let him talk to Gary. The questions had fallen silent, Jonathan’s practised schoolteacher tone having the required effect.

The funeral-goers had retreated to the east end of the church, near to the chancel. They cast repeated glances at Gary and Jonathan, and the strangely clad group further away. Most of them were concerned about the infected, although Gary heard some of them muttering about getting out of here as soon as possible.

Others admonished those that wanted to leave, reminding them what had happened to those who had tried to escape. Around eight or nine of the group, in their sixties or older, were sitting on pews, staring at the cross or praying. Gary noticed a small gaggle of teenagers that had separated from the others. Now and then someone tried one of their phones, only to be met with a lack of signal.

Forge’s group had taken up a position near to the barricaded main door at the west end, apart from Rain. She was standing apart from everyone, guarding the side door. She observed everyone with the same detached-yet-curious expression Gary had noticed earlier. Once again, Gary got the unnerving impression that she viewed others as if they were an alien species that made little sense to her.

What is her deal, anyway? Gary wondered, not for the first time. Gary felt he understood the other three, Forge, Morgan and Annabel. They were trying to get out of the war, away from the horror. Rain seemed different. She didn’t banter in the same way. And Gary got the eerie impression that she could slice all of their throats without a second’s hesitation or remorse, if she chose to.

So what was guiding her choice to be a part of their group? She was an enigma, and that made Gary nervous.

Okay, I’ll have to work her out later, Gary thought, if there’s any time.

Gary turned his attention back to Jonathon. He was in his late twenties, but he looked as worn down. It had only been a few hours, but Gary guessed that trying to keep everyone together had been tough.

“How did you become the de facto leader?” Gary asked.

“I guess just natural authority. I mean, I teach the teenagers over there, and everyone was acting like scared, angry children. I don’t know. I wouldn’t have been my first choice, to be honest.”

Gary warmed to the man. He was doing his best in an insane set of circumstances and hadn’t cracked under the pressure.

“Okay, we need a plan,” Gary said. “It’s safe out there for now, but there is no way of knowing how long that will last for.”

Jonathan nodded. “There’s an RAF base not too far away. I was thinking that might be the best bet for safety.”

“I had the same thought. I think there’s also a barracks not too far away. God knows what it’s like everywhere else, though.”

“I suppose the military will be fighting back,” Jonathan said, “But I doubt it will be very co-ordinated with all the communications down.”

“Failing that, somewhere isolated is the best bet, I guess. And we’re going to need food and supplies, of course.”

Gary clenched his overgrown teeth together, pushing dark thoughts out of his mind. His hunger was even worse now that he was so close to so many living people.

“You alright?” Jonathan asked, noticing Gary’s pained expression.

“Yeah, fine, just took a few hits,” Gary deflected, showing the bandages that he was wrapped in.

“There’s four people sick,” Jonathan said. “The priest, Adam’s parents and Joan, I think her name is. They all got scratched or bitten. We’ve separated them from everyone else, but they’re infected. They’re going to turn, aren’t they?”

Jonathan’s voice was a whisper now. He didn’t want to alert everyone else to this part of the conversation.

“Do we have to kill them?”