Purification

continued to be relatively quick and largely unimpeded.
    The attacking line of ground troops fanned out as they moved away from the bunker, pushing the crowds back.
    There remained a bloody and relatively constant gulf of several metres between the advancing soldiers and the dead. Ignorant to the danger that they faced, those creatures which had so far escaped the wrath of the military continued to move ever closer, dragging themselves over the putrefying remains of the thousands of corpses that had been destroyed before them.
    ‘Aim for their heads,’ a sergeant yelled as his troops unleashed another furious volley of bullets and flame into the seething mass of cadavers. Undeterred, the bodies continued to shuffle and trip forwards.
    A short distance further down the military line, a soldier named Ellis stood up to his ankles in blood and rancid flesh and picked out individual corpses from the crowd up ahead.
    With the skill and concentration of a highly trained marksman he managed to shut off from the mayhem and confusion all around him and aimed at each body in turn, shooting them in the head and obliterating what remained of their brains. They dropped twitching to the ground and were immediately trampled by more dark figures advancing from behind. Conditions were becoming steadily worse with smoke, flame and rain all making it impossible to see clearly through the fading light of a dull and stormy dusk.
    To Ellis’ left and to his right his colleagues continued to fight alongside him, each of them destroying as many bodies as they could. But still the crazed creatures continued to advance. For every one that Ellis destroyed, ten more seemed to take its place. And beyond there remained thousands more. Out of view still more and more and more of them crawled through the darkness.
    ‘Fucking hell,’ the soldier to the immediate right of Ellis cursed. ‘I can’t keep up with this. Christ, how many of these fucking things are there?’
    They continued to shoot and the bodies continued to advance, spilling ever forward like some dark, thick liquid.
    Ellis didn’t have time to think or speak, instead he concentrated on letting bullet after bullet fly into the rotting crowd. An unexpected arc of flame burnt through the air just ahead of him, illuminating the full horror of the scene for a few heart-stopping seconds. The twisted, grotesque faces of hundreds of corpses were suddenly exposed and Ellis found himself staring at them in disgust and revulsion, praying for the light to fade and the dark to return. The nearest corpses were less than ten metres ahead.
    The ragged line of soldiers, still advancing steadily, reached a slight ditch where a meandering stream had once run diagonally across the battlefield but which had, over the course of the last few weeks, become clogged and filled with a compacted layer of rotting human remains. The trooper on Ellis’ right, fighting to keep concentrating and not lose control of his frayed nerves, stumbled and slipped on the uneven ground, ending up on his hands and knees in the middle of the stagnant trench. A powerful wave of gut-wrenching nausea swept over him as he looked down into a mire of the mashed and mangled remains of decayed faces, limbs and other body parts, all instantly recognisable as such. As he pushed himself back up and tripped and stumbled further towards the approaching bodies, bile began to rise in his throat and he started to salivate. He knew that he was going to vomit, but he also knew that he had to stop himself from doing so at all costs - he couldn’t take off his facemask. He turned back to face his advancing colleagues and another searing jet of fire lit up the stormy sky above him. Less than a second later a shell dropped short of its intended target and landed just metres away, exploding instantly and showering the troops with mud, shrapnel and putrefied flesh. Knocked to the ground again, the trooper panicked and scrambled back away from the front line. He was aware of a sudden stabbing, burning pain in his back, but his sickening fear and disorientation kept him moving. Once up on his feet again he reached over his shoulder and rubbed at the part of his neck and right shoulder which hurt the most. He could feel a small, jagged shard of metal which had ripped through his suit and pierced his skin. When he brought his hand back around he saw that it was covered in blood, and it was the sight of the blood on his glove which terrified him more