Carl's wounds ached from the long trip, he would have liked to stop and treat them better but there would be time for that later. For now all that mattered was the door in front of him and the person behind it. For a moment he hesitated, since leaving the hotel Carl had constantly reassured himself that it was the right move and only now he allowed himself that slight moment of doubt. Telling himself one last time, that it was the right thing to do regardless, he knocked on the door.

The creeping doubt slowly snowballed as his knocking echoed emptily without reply. Something was not right here and he strained his brain, searching for a reason that didn't confirm his worst fears. All of which came true anyway when the alarm sounded, shattering the peaceful urban air and sent waves of panic to Carl's core. Without thinking he called out to the door pointlessly, if they had been going to let him in he would already be inside.

Hefting his axe Carl swung at the wooden door, only to realize it was solid and going to take more than a few chops to get through. Giving it another swing, he aimed for the lock, hoping to dismantle it at its weakest point. The axe stuck in the wood, but to no avail, the door was well barricaded from the other side. With nothing else for it Carl turned to run, he had done enough to satisfy his conscience and he only hoped it wasn't at too great a cost.

A few strides into his retreat and Carl stopped dead in his tracks, wet slaps of bare feet on asphalt sent shivers down his spine as several dead turned into the cul de sac. Raising his axe, he let them come to him while trying to breath steady and keep his cool. The black muddy feet of his pursuers were soon joined by more as the empty street behind them swelled with the bodies. Carl felt an involuntary shudder in his breath, almost sob like, as the sound of his own heartbeat drowned out any internal thoughts.

The first corpse hit the ground in a lop sided fall, still scrabbling for balance despite the large gash opened in it's scalp. The blow cracked the skull, letting loose a black gelatinous substance that oozed down its face, while something internal must have broken and the pitiful creature moved spasmodically. The second Carl took to consider a finishing blow, almost cost him the fight, as the next zombie lunged and Carl had to move quickly to keep his swinging distance.

Quickly Carl bought the sharp weight down from above, this time chopping a dead girl across the collar bone. She buckled beneath the force of his blow, sitting in an unnatural pose as he drew the axe back ready to deal another blow. The next swing fell a rotting young man, his blue eyes gleaming with hunger as Carl ended his wandering search for food.

As Carl backed away from the hungry undead, he glimpsed the sea of bodies for what it was and felt a hopelessness overwhelm him. The wall of fleshy bodies had him blocked in and this time there would be no one to save him. Heaving past the pain and using the back of the axe he swung again, ignoring the hot wet splash that sprayed his face. The fallen provided obstacles, but the horde flowed around them like water, only the desperate few stopping to devour their own.

In his heart he knew he should give up and let it happen, but Carl couldn't do it to himself. Every time his will failed, his arms refused to stop swinging the axe, as if it was a reflex that he couldn't prevent. The bloodied corpses kept others at bay just enough for the next swing, until they were a tight ring around him like a noose waiting for the fall. In a panic Carl swung his weapon horizontally from side to side, more of a deterrent than any attempt to maim but in the end it made no difference.

Rough hands pulled at his clothes, jerking him from side to side as undead corpses scrabbled to find a soft piece. Pulling his knife free of its sheath he slashed wildly at the fingers of anything reaching out to him and when a man lent in for the bite, Carl sunk the blade into its eye socket splitting its blue iris. Too many had a hold of him already and in a desperate attempt to free himself Carl pushed off with his legs, propelling himself onto the hard ground, breaking free enough to gain more movement. Quickly he scrambled to his feet, slashing at his pursuers inflicting minor flesh wounds, hardly worth his expenditure.

Like a drowning person, Carl lost all sense of the ocean he was in, instead he focused on staying afloat. With no concept of how deep in he was, Carl dispatched enemies one at a time, treading life slowly as exhaustion wore away at him and his world became only what was right in front of him. The unorganized tangled mess that was the hungry undead, had left him covered in their dark blood, starting a feeding frenzy as the weaker impoverished zombies stripped the wounded of their flesh in an orgy of violence. Had he more stamina, this might have provided the break he needed, but Carl's energy was sapped as he struggled with a large female who had already taken one piece from his face.

The jerk came as a shock as Carl was lifted from the ground by his attacker, at first he thought was her brute strength and that the time had come when he would be powerless to stop what came next. But her head pulled back as if she was howling at the moon and a gurgling started as someone stabbed repeatedly at the side of her neck. The blade was long and Carl watched repulsed, as the tip made the muscles on her neck bulge, as it tried to push through to the other side. Her arms shook, but, the hands gripping Carl's jacket tightened and moments later he was dumped back on the ground with the corpse of his enemy atop him, her blood oozing onto his face.

Twisting from under the corpse he searched for his savior, but whoever they were, was hidden in the sea of undead. A large dark figure was spinning wildly not far from where Carl lay and the sight gave him shivers. Gripping his own knife he scuttled backwards from under the dead weight and rose hesitantly. There was so much death around that for a moment he thought he had died and gone to hell. However if this was the underworld, then the black figure swinging the Gurkha knife was surely the devil. Each swing added to the carnage as he hacked at heads and lopped smaller appendages.

Staggering slightly Carl made a run for it. Whoever that thing was, he wasn't about to hang around and say thank you to it, instead he ran as hard as his shaky legs could go. Each step reverberating up his body, sending bolts of pain along his spine, several times his knees failed and he almost fell, but the more he ran the thinner the undead became, until he was back at the car barricade.

On the way in, Carl had assumed the cars were to keep the zombies out, but looking at the Kombi van now, he was seeing it in a different light. The barricade was to keep the undead in and given how easily he had climbed over, it was easy to see how there come to be so many inside. Looking at the van now Carl had two options and climbing over wasn't one of them, at least not while he had the horde in tow, meanwhile climbing under wasn't at all appealing either.

The door handle clicked and the door swung open to Carl's delight as he heaved his damaged body across the seat, sending Deep Purple and Pink Floyd CDs sliding onto the floor. The door slammed shut with a thud and for the first time Carl found himself with some breathing space. Climbing past the front seats he lay for vital seconds in the back of the van heaving for air as soft bodies pounded the side of the van rocking it gently. Things would only get worse the longer he rested, but the lack of sleep and fatigue hobbled his thought process.

The van was tidy inside, not much to use as a weapon, not that Carl had the strength to fight anyway. Luckily the van had a sliding door otherwise he might have found himself having to climb out a window. When he was sure it was free of undead Carl slid the door open to get a better view of the barricade. The alarm still sounded in the background, however for the most part the street was empty. Only a few zombies wandered, picking their way between the maze of vehicles.

Choosing the route of least resistance Carl started to walk, the short break had made his legs worse and each step was more painful than the last, instead of a fluid gait, he limped and hobbled. All he needed to do was reach the vehicle around the bend in the street. On the way in, he had checked it for keys, testing the battery when he found them dangling from the ignition. Breaking away from the safety of the pile up he did his best to run, throwing each step out and praying that his feeble legs would hold him up. Several times he stumbled and every step in itself was agony, but he kept on.

Carl's heart sunk as he turned the corner and the car came into view behind a large dead body. The creature was already heading his way, it's blue eyes shining and thick set muscles powered it forward. From the way it moved Carl watched his chances disappear, this was a well fed and high functioning animal. Pulling his blade free of its sheath again, he vowed not to go down without a fight.

Sudden footsteps from behind caught Carl off guard as the knife wielding black devil tore past him and sliced across the zombies middle. Ignoring the wound, unfazed it continued its march stumbling only when the other sliced it's Achilles heel. With a stab and a twist the dark creature severed the zombies spinal cord before sheathing the Gurkha blade.

Carl stood dumbfounded at the human level of intelligence the creature before him seemed to emulate. It stood still like it had something to say, letting him hobble to the drivers side and start the car. Something in the blue eyes reached out to Carl, something told him that there was more to this. Maybe it was his weakened state, or maybe it was the fact that an undead creature had saved his life, twice over no less. Something in Carl clicked, maybe it was a sign of madness, but he reached over and unlock the passenger side, letting the door swing open in invitation. .