Erik raised his weapon and launched his remaining grenades to land behind the shambling group, which was now at least three deep. The explosions made a satisfying noise, tearing apart many of the undead assailants, but the whirling fragments had little effect on the others.

"We'll break through,” the General said, hearing the relentless tread of the approaching zombies on each flank. “Lord Seneschal, will you attempt an assault on the rear group while Sergeant Erik and I try to hold back the others?"

"I'll attack them head on, General,” Tordun said, his voice firm with resolve. “I can make out their outlines well enough. Perhaps friend Shakkar could fly over them and attack them from behind."

"Do it!” Quelgrum shouted, trying to contain his inner terror as he and the Sergeant fired at the flanking zombies, trying to pick their targets and aim for their heads.

Tordun launched himself at the mass of slow-moving creatures, screaming in rage as Shakkar surged into the air. Quelgrum heard the dull click of the hammer falling on the empty chamber, and he tried to remain calm as he ejected the spent magazine and slammed in his last. He concentrated on the left flank, trusting Erik to make his shots count on the right. The stuttering bullets felled scores of the creatures, but others seemed to fill the gaps as soon as their rotting comrades fell. Still no zombies appeared from the direction of the Priory, and Quelgrum felt sure that the unseen controller was trying to lure them towards it; he was determined not to rush into a trap.

The General slung his rifle over his shoulder as the hammer clicked on the empty chamber; he heard Erik insert what must be his last magazine. Quelgrum drew his pistol, a twelve-shot weapon, and began to fire anew. The line of creatures grew no closer as more zombies fell, but Quelgrum knew it was only a matter of time; the supply of undead seemed inexhaustible.