We had to swing around the block to get clear of the barricades. We were near the river now but still well south of where we were supposed to meet the gunship.

Our next setback was running smack into a group of Russian soldiers in a firefight with Communist rebels. We came up behind the Russian line and broke through easily. I had the gunner and tank commander wave to the Communists as we passed, while I kept my head down, and they cheered our tanks as we went by. Before we were out of sight, I looked back and saw the Russian troops shambling to their feet, staggering forward toward the celebrating Communists.

This city was going into full zombie apocalypse, and we needed to get the hell out of here.

"There's more ahead," the driver warned me.

We were nearly to the rendezvous, but ahead was an entire group of zombified Russian soldiers. I thought I saw a few non-uniformed personnel in there. Was the curse spreading, or had some of the civilians in the city had the same amulets that the Russian troops had worn? I was assuming those were the source of this outbreak of zombie-ism, but I didn't know for sure. I wasn’t about to experiment with them myself.

We pulled up to a halt. We were badly short on fully automatic weapons. I didn't want to use the cannon for fear of the rounds passing completely through the crowd and damaging the gunship beyond. I could fire down into the street and hope the shells would detonate, but there was a small unacceptable chance that the round would skip off the concrete and continue down the road. It wasn't worth risking our ride out of here.

They hadn't noticed us. Fortunately, these zombies did not exhibit abnormally good hearing like in some zombie fiction. Wysocki put a cannon round into a nearby building facade and collapsed part of it onto the crowd while the rest of us opened up with rifles.

There were only a handful of us, and the zombies absorbed a lot of punishment before going down. It seemed that only headshots or damage to the spine would stop them. Even a hit to the center of mass might only result in a zombie with paralyzed legs still crawling its way towards us.

They turned as we opened up and shambled their way towards us. They weren't the fast sorts of zombies, but they weren't laughably slow either, and the crowd got terrifyingly close to us before the last few were put down. We rolled forward, crushing some still twitching corpses beneath our treads. If we ran into a larger crowd or got stuck between two groups, we would be in serious trouble. Maybe Wysocki's tank could button up and get through them, but with our open-topped turret, this tank would be a death trap if we got completely surrounded.

Relief shed on Angelica’s face as she greeted us. “Sergeant. We're so glad to see you."

"Likewise, Captain. What's the situation?"

"You've seen the zombies for yourself. We've been getting hit by groups of them every few minutes. We don't have enough ammunition or rifles to keep this up much longer."

"Any sign of Hannah or Veronica?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I'd hoped they would be with you."

"No. We saw them last in the arena. It was a mess, and we got out while we could."

"Do you think they made it?" Her face clouded.

I tried to put reassurance in my voice. "We had taken out most of the threats before I left. So, they should be okay, as long as they got clear of there." I broke off and looked up as we both heard the rumble of engines approaching.

Down the river road to the north appeared a motley parade. Our other two French tanks led the way, festooned with people hanging on the upper deck or standing by the turret. I recognized the Hungarian prisoners of war we had seen briefly in the arena. Several of the battered mechs followed and behind them came several armored cars. These were also piled high with refugees, an assortment of French, Italian, and Germans.

Angelica’s jaw dropped. "How will we fit them all? We certainly don't have room for the mechs."

"Those are just the wrecks the Russians forced them to bond with. I doubt they'll mind leaving them behind."

"Thank goodness for that," Angelica muttered. “Wait, Made them? Never mind. Tell me later.” She hurried off to direct the mech riders down off the tanks and presumably get them to break their hasty bonds.

I got the armored cars lined up in a rough half circle to form a perimeter. It was difficult keeping anyone at their guns. Everyone wanted to board the gunship. With the cargo bay open on the side, we couldn't keep them from climbing aboard.

I pulled Sgt. Wysocki aside and nodded to the crowd of technicians. "There are a few Russian soldiers mixed in there. Get a couple of our boys and pull them aside. If they have those amulets, we'll have to get them off, or we can't let them on board."

He looked at me in surprise. "We would take them with us?"

"I would take anyone who wants to get away from this hell. But we can't let them do it armed or wearing those cursed amulets."

He looked at me blankly. I made a motion to my neck. "The funny necklaces that glow green. I think that’s where the zombies are coming from."

The Russian soldiers immediately became suspicious when Wysocki's men tried to pull them aside, shouting and raising their weapons. I had to step over and provide some clout to the situation. "We can't let you on our machine with those amulets around your neck. If anything happens, those will turn you into one of them." I stabbed my finger at the pile of re-dead bodies scattered around the street. The Russians didn't look willing to concede the point. But my voice carried, and the crowd of technicians turned on them. Many of them were armed as well, and quickly surrounded the Russians as I yelled at them to drop their guns and take off their necklaces.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Their defiance crumpled in the face of the mob. The men were disarmed and stripped of their necklaces. I ordered them stripped to the waist just as a precaution. It was all I could do to keep the angry mob of technicians from beating the men senseless as soon as they realized that the source of the zombie infestation was something they had carried with them all along.

No sooner was that crisis handled than we got hit by the biggest wave of zombies yet. They came from the side road directly to our east as a second mob poured along the river from the south. For several minutes it was touch and go as the undead swarmed towards us. I yelled and cajoled and threatened, trying to keep the panicky technicians and soldiers firing at them instead of fleeing to the dubious shelter of our gunship.

As the crowd of undead was starting to thin, I heard screams from the far side of our perimeter. The machine gun atop one of the armored cars opened fire. I jogged over. Another wave of zombies was coming from the north. The machine guns were lighting them up, but there were a lot of them. We couldn’t catch a break.

"Sarge, I hear shots from the east."

"I know," I growled. "I think it's ours. It sounds like an autocannon." Relief and fear tugged at me. If our wayward Hussars arrived, we could get out of here. But if they were shooting, maybe they were in trouble. "Corporal," I shouted over my shoulder as I ran forward. "Get more rifles on this side of the perimeter."

I climbed up on the nearby armored car and inspected its machine gun. Fortunately, my wide-ranging knowledge download suggested this armored car was only a slight upgrade of a model that had been in use for several years and offered plenty of technical specifications. I had the gun dismounted from the turret in a flash. "Hold the line. I'm going after the others," I yelled before taking off at a trot up the road to the east.

The road was relatively clear for the first hundred meters or so. I rounded a bend and stepped into hell. Ahead, a swarm of zombies filled the street. Towering above them was one of the tall German prototype mechs. Zombies were swarming up its sides and clawing their way to reach the driver. Hannah stood on the shoulder, snarling defiance and waving her hands at the creatures. Zombies went flying, hurled away by the force wave magic she was using.

Just beyond her were two Hungarian mechs, almost invisible under the swarm of monsters crawling up them. Both pilots were fighting desperately for their lives. Veronica, with control bursts of magic, was knocking foes away, but the other girl was panicking. I saw her bring her hands up to cast a force wave, but only one monster fell away, and several nearby were unaffected. I thought she must be running low on istota.

Stepping into that horde and letting them surround me would have been suicide. I trotted over to the side of the road and took up a position in the doorway of a shop. I dropped to one knee and steadied my machine gun on the brick surround of the shop’s window, which jutted out several inches from the wall. The vehicle-mounted weapon still had a stock, for which I was thankful. I lined up my sights.

Machine guns were never known for their accuracy. I aimed my shots carefully. I fired two more bursts, knocking zombies from the lower sections of the mechs. Then I shifted my sights to Veronica's mech and started picking the zombies off. My gunfire got the attention of the closest zombies, and they turned my direction.

I yelled at the girls to get moving. “We’ve got a perimeter just ahead! Get to the gunship!”

The zombies came at me in a rush. I gunned down the frontline in a long burst, but some of them only staggered and kept coming. I lifted the gun to my shoulder and fired another burst head high. Fortunately, I was taller than most of the creatures, so my burst angled downward and didn't threaten the girls beyond.

This dropped more, but they kept coming, and then they were too close to use my gun.

I knocked one away with the butt of my gun and punched another in the chest. I didn't think their bites transmitted the curse, but I didn't want to take the chance of punching them in the mouth.

Many of the zombies carried rifles. The next one attacked me with a bayonet thrust. What kind of crazy world was this? Who ever heard of a zombie using a bayonet? It was ridiculous.

I sidestepped and yanked the rifle away from it one-handed. With my other, I gave it a burst from my machine gun. I spun the rifle around one-handed with the skill of a drill team, and got it pointed bayonet towards the enemy. At least now I had another weapon.

I was worried about my machine gun running dry, but I didn't dare take the time to peer in its ammo bin to see how much was left. Hannah's mech stomped past down the streets, scattering the broken bodies of zombies all over and squishing some underfoot. She yelled something to me, but I didn't make out the words.

Veronica's mech was mostly clear now, but she had turned to help the other girl. I shouted at her to get moving. She ignored me. The zombies were swarming at me thick now, and I couldn't spare a burst to help them. As it was, I only got three more long blasts from the machine gun before it ran dry.

I dropped it. The rifle with bayonet was lighter, but had slightly longer reach. I dropped into a martial stance and swung it around me like a spear. I didn't seem to have any particular skills with polearms as a martial weapon, but I swung that rifle with a deftness that made me think some of my skill load had included a member of a drill team.

The skills let me spin the weapon in flashy circles, but weren't much help for aiming decapitating strikes towards the foe. This was a stabbing bayonet. It didn't have a full-length edge, which severely limited its use against creatures you needed to decapitate.

I set about stabbing that long spike of metal into as many eye sockets as I could. That proved effective, but I still had to take them out one at a time.

Veronica and her friend stomped past. Veronica turned her mech like she was coming to help me, but the swarm was thick and started crawling up the sides of her mech as soon as she slowed. "Go, go!" I yelled. I needed to take my own advice, but the crowd was too dense. Instead, I slammed the butt of the rifle backwards and smashed open the shop door behind me. I ducked inside with a horde of zombies hot on my heels. Cookware. I guess it had been too much to hope that it had been a sword shop. Or maybe a chainsaw and flamethrower emporium. No, that was much too much to ask.

I turned and ran for the back of the shop as the zombies crashed through displays of pans and pots, sending them crashing to the floor. The zombie crowd became a slipping and sliding mess that would have been hilarious if it had not been so deadly. Unfortunately, it only slowed them.

At the back of the shop was another door which I kicked open. Seven pairs of eyes stared back at me. The stockroom was full of working-class men wearing the red armbands of communist rebels. Several had guns raised and I threw myself to the side just in time. A roar of gunfire tore into the zombies behind me. I turned around and ran for it.

I sprawled full length on the ground behind the store counter just as the wave of zombies reached it. I tried to scramble up but it was too late. Undead bodies fell on me, teeth snapping. I punched, kicked, and flailed, knocking them away. I felt teeth sink into my left arm and right shoulder. My fists connected, breaking bones and showering me with gore.

It had been a long day, even for my superhuman strength, and my muscles ached as still more of them poured on top of me. A heavy kettle dislodged from the shelf above slammed into my head and I blinked away stars. The zombie wave didn't stop and now their broken corpses were weighing me down, smothering me.

Through a gap in the bodies, I saw the communists surging out of the storeroom, firing. Some of them shot down at me and I felt the bullets thud into the pile of broken zombies.

Then more zombies came over the counter and blotted out my vision as they landed on the heap. I was finding it difficult to breathe. Darkness swam at the edge of my vision. I had to get out of here. I had to-

And then there was only blackness.