The Week of the Dead by Viktor Longfellow

of able-bodied people, they began climbing the scaffoldings to get to the soldiers on the wall. The civilians made a quick job of the soldiers on the wall, by pulling them either backward into the raging crowd or forward onto the street where a swift fall could deem hazardous; they were taken out quickly. The two soldiers with the LMGs stopped to reload. They were met with a gentlemanly warfare. Some civilians knelt, and some stood, as they aimed their weapons at them. In a single instance, they fired, removing the souls of these soldiers. The civilians rushed the gates.
    The now standing creatures rushed the gates as well. People were running and screaming. Some had stayed on the wall as they fired at the creatures. “Aim for the head!” Devin shouted. “The head!” Jackson’s corpse rose and began feasting on the wounded. One by one, they all rose. Those who had fallen stood once more, civilian clothed or wearing camouflage; if it was bitten, it craved human blood. Devin pushed the civilians into the buildings. Some of the soldiers had come to their senses and fired at the oncoming creatures that had penetrated the gate. “I’m out! Where’s the armory?” Devin shouted at a man in camouflage.
    “Inside Building B!” The soldier didn’t care; he just wanted someone with a gun at his side. Devin tossed the Springfield at one of the oncoming corpses leaving it to bounce against its pale skin and fall to the ground. Devin ran, passing civilians and soldiers alike. He made his way to Building B. He flung open the metal door.
    There was a caged door with a keypad lock on it. He didn’t have time for this bullshit. He quickly began kicking the chain-link door. With every kick came a rattle of the chain links against their aluminum structures. On the other side was everything Devin could possibly need. Rifles, rocket launchers, handguns, mortar tubes, satchel charges, LMGs, and other things in metal cases were all he kept thinking about. He had kicked with all of his might. Finally, he stopped for a breather. Gunfire was still being heard from outside Building B.
    He walked out the metal door to find something he could use for the chain-link gate. The transport truck , he thought. He saw that he was only a few hundred meters from the gate. He could run outside and drive the truck in. He looked around. They’re slow, and I can beat them , he thought. He found a piece of aluminum tin from a barrack that was being built. He placed the piece of tin in front of him like a shield. He slowly began trotting, which broke into a sprint. He held the tin up as he pushed through the crowd. “What the hell are you doing?” The same soldier asked as he began picking off rounds around Devin. Devin didn’t know what was on the other side of the tin shield, and he didn’t care. He ran as hard as he could. He began to see bodies at his feet. He was getting close.
    As he looked down, he and his shield collided with the concrete wall. He had made it. The collision forced him to fall on his back. He rolled backward using his energy. He made it to the front of the truck and hopped in the cab. No keys . He ripped open the steering column and began touching wires together. The large transport truck revved back to life. He got up from the floorboard and sat behind the wheel. He looked out to see Erica still sitting in the minivan. He shifted the truck in gear as he rammed it through the gate of the military base. He aimed the transport truck into the path of the creatures. He connected the bumper of the big rig into the empty chest cavity of those in his path. He found Building B again. He pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor as he aimed for the door. He braced himself for impact as the truck made a hole in the wall of the building. He had made it through the chain link and into the armory itself. He flipped the behemoth around and backed it into the same hole he had made.
    Quickly, he lifted the canvas tarp covering the truck and