Gary swore as the Level 2 zombie turned and swiped a clawed hand at him. The attack missed his face by an inch. He stumbled backwards in shock and surprise. Over the past few hours, he’d become used to the dead not reacting as he took them out one by one.

The Level 2 zombie advanced on Gary as he fell over two of the bodies behind him. He scrambled to regain his footing and lashed out at the zombie with Simon, catching him for another three points.

What the hell was going on?

In the two seconds before the zombie heavy swiped at Gary again, he guessed what had happened. The zombie had levelled up, presumably having killed a couple of living people and getting enough experience to do so. Intestines hanging from the side of its mouth gave credence to this theory. The zombies got more powerful the more people they killed. It also gave them some kind of self-awareness and meant they would defend themselves.

Not good, Gary thought, not good at all.

His opponent lunged towards Gary, snarling. He looked like he was in his late seventies when he died. His body was more filled out than the other zombies, however. The flesh on his face also looked less withered and dusty. More fluid.

The zombie took a swing at Gary with savage, claw-like hands. Not only was the heavy tougher than its compatriots, it was faster. And, even worse, it had almost twice as many hit points as Gary, a full 45 points compared to his now restored 25. Its eyes also differed from the others. Whereas the level 1 zombies had pale and unseeing eyes, the heavy’s eyes seemed to have a semblance of sapience. Its brows furrowed as it focussed on Gary.

It was angry.

Gary avoided the clawing by stepping backwards. He swung at his opponent with the shovel and hit it for another 4 points, but it was like swinging against solid wood. The heavy scrambled forward, roaring at Gary and slashed across his face with a swift swing. Gary howled in pain as 5 points were deducted from his health.

I’ve got no chance here, he realised.

The heavy was more resistant to blows than the previous zombies Gary had attacked. It had a higher hit point rating and, worst of all, its attacks seemed to do more damage on average than Gary’s did.

In a straight blow-for-blow fight, Gary wouldn’t last very long.

At least I’ve got immunity to infection, he thought.

It was a minor consolation in the face of a foe who might be about to kill him.

It occurred to Gary that he didn’t know what would happen if he actually died, since he had been classified as undead. Would be come back again, but this time as a zombie properly? Or would be just be the regular kind of dead?

Neither prospect held much appeal.

He lashed out at the heavy again, aiming not to injure it so much as push it back.

I need an advantage here, he thought. Okay, it’s bigger and stronger than me, but it doesn’t seem to be smarter.

He looked over at the BMW parked against the church, and an idea occurred to him. It was a risk, but he needed some way to tip the odds in his favour.

He swung against the heavy one last time, again pushing it back rather than causing any damage. Then he shuffle-ran as fast as he could to the BMW. It was just over a dozen steps away. As Gary neared it, he swung the shovel as hard as he could at the front passenger window, smashing it open. He reached in, pulled up the lock, and opened the door. He jumped inside and closed the door behind him just as the heavy caught up with him.

“Yeah, that’s right, come and get it,” Gary shouted.

The heavy wouldn’t let Gary get away. It reached through the broken window with both arms, snarling and growling. Gary shifted over to the driver's seat as the heavy stuck its head inside the car and tried to claw at Gary. Gary kicked it in the head, provoking further rage and determination from the heavy. It pushed itself further into the car, reaching across the driver’s seat to claw at its target. Within seconds, it had half of its body inside the car, bent over through the window.

Gary grabbed the driver's seatbelt and with a swift movement looped it round the heavy’s neck, before slamming the buckle into the latch. The heavy got another 5 point strike in on Gary as he did so, tearing across Gary’s arm, but Gary ignored the pain.

The heavy scratched and clawed, but the seatbelt had immobilised it. Not only could it not get any further into the car, it was prevented from going backwards.

Having secured the heavy, Gary opened the driver’s door and scrambled out of the car. The heavy tried to reach after him. Snarling with anger, the heavy kept trying to move forward after Gary, even when he’d closed the door.

Gary smirked, then shuffled around the vehicle to the passenger door, where the lower half of the zombie still extruded. He brought the shovel down on its back five, six, seven times. The spine severed on the second blow.

Realising it was being attacked from behind, the heavy tried to withdraw, but the seatbelt held it fixed in place until Gary had finished his gruesome task. He had to cleave the creature in half before he reduced it to zero hit points and the notifications assured him it was dead.

The lower half of its body fell to the ground, whilst the upper half stopped struggling.

Unlike the other zombies he had already disposed of, this had been a much messier business. The flesh had spurted blood as Gary had hacked at it. It was as if the zombies were using the flesh of the living to regenerate themselves, becoming stronger, more supple and more aware as they did so. Levelling up was making them stronger, faster and more dangerous.

Gary sat down, leaning against the car, exhausted and injured. He knew from everything that had happened so far that his health would regenerate to its former level in about half an hour. Either way, he needed a breather.

There’s no time for this, he told himself. The people in the church are still in danger.

The problem was that now he’d encountered one heavy, there could be more in the horde.

Gary felt his resolve weakening as he attempted to wipe away some of the dust he had gathered. He’d been running on adrenalin and anger for the past couple of hours, just reacting to the madness of the events around him as best he could. Taking a pause for a few minutes, he wondered if he’d made the right choice, staying here to help the people in the church. His van was on the other side of the cemetery. He could drive back to Oxford and find his family, focus on helping them.

He had no way of knowing where his family was right now. His mum would have been teaching in the school she worked at, he guessed, and his dad at the office, both based in Oxford. His brother, Ian, was in London whilst his sister Emily was in Europe travelling.

He checked his phone and saw a two bar signal.

He breathed out and dialled his mum.

“Mum? Are you there?”

“Gary? Gary are you okay?”

“I’m fine, mum, are you alright?”

“Oh, Gary, its just awful. Everything has gone mad, everyone has gone mad. There were these slug things and then everything just went crazy. We started seeing and hearing things...”

“Mum, where are you? Are you at the school?”

“No, I’m with your uncle Graham. We’re going to the farmhouse.”

Gary nodded to himself. He wasn’t a fan of his uncle, but getting to his converted farmhouse was a sensible option. Graham had bought it a few years ago and done it up as a luxury, self-catering holiday home. It had its own generator and even if luxury and self-catering seemed like an oxymoron, it was a nice spot. It also had the distinct advantage of being out of the way. It could also accommodate ten people, two families-worth in total.

It looked like mum’s older brother had come through for a change.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea mum, great, what about dad?”

“We’re just going to pick him up. It’s chaos here, Gary, absolute chaos. We can barely drive anywhere.”

“Okay, that’s good, that’s great mum, look I’ll meet you there, okay? What about Ian and Emily, have you got through to them?”

“No, there was no signal before.”

“Okay, try now, let’s get everyone to the farmhouse if possible, or at least let them know that’s where we are.”

“Yes, okay, I...”

The line cut off and Gary’s screen returned to displaying “No signal”.

Gary gritted his teeth in frustration. He hadn’t had time to warn her about the dead coming back. He swore at his short sightedness. He’d overlooked the obvious in the brief call. It hadn’t sounded as if they knew about the dead coming back to life.

Gary’s first instinct was to get into his car and drive straight to the farmhouse, forgetting about the people in the church. But the fact was that he was a lot closer to the farmhouse, only about twenty miles away, whilst his mother was at least sixty miles away. It would take them an hour by the sounds of it. There was nothing Gary could do in the meantime.

Still, Gary felt cheered up by the brief contact. His mum and dad were alive. There was a good chance everyone else was as well. Gary didn’t know what the next steps would be after getting to the farmhouse, but at least having the family in one place would count for something.

Families, he thought, glancing back at the church, there’s probably entire families trapped in there.

He stood up, feeling refreshed. Okay, so there might be more heavies in the crowd. He had a way of dealing with them. Trap them in the car and take them out. It had worked once, so it would work again. The rest of the undead were still just mindless things he could knock out one by one.

If he walked away now and left the people in St Mary’s to their fate, he would never forgive himself.

Plus, he really hated leaving a job half-finished. Some people were known for being bodgers and either doing the bare minimum to finish a task, or just giving up halfway through. Gary was neither a bodger nor a quitter.

I’ve started, so I’ll finish, to quote Mastermind.

He pulled the top half of the dead-dead zombie out of the car, leaving his makeshift seat-buckle trap ready for the next heavy that he might face.

If he pushed it, he might clear the rest of the dead in an hour or two.

Gary gripped his shovel and went back to his gruesome task.

*

A few hundred metres away, the corpse of Zafier twitched.

A purple and black glow surrounded its broken and battered body. It sat up, hands twitching, its face cut in half by the side of Gary’s shovel.

Rise from the Dead

Name: Zafier Cross

Class: Undead

Type: Revenant (Necromancer)

Level: 5

Experience: 6750/10000

Hit Points: 100/100

Attacks:

Claw +30% 7-10 Infectious 40%

Bite 40% 9-12 Infectious 80%

Special Attacks:

Darkfire (x4): 10-15 damage Cool down: 3 turns

Spells:

Raise the dead

Re-animates up to 10 corpses Cool down: 3 turns

Command the dead

Command all undead in a 100 square foot radius Cool down: 3 turns

Defence:

Damage Resistance:

All damage reduced by 3 points except for critical hits.

Immune to poison. Immune to drowning. Immune to radiation. Immune to Diseases.

Regeneration.

Regain 3-6 HP for eating the living.

Regain 2-4 HP for eating the recently deceased.

Goals:

Kill the person who killed you.

Kill the living.

Level Up.

The revenant that had been Zafier Cross gazed around with hate-filled eyes. Although its soul had departed and its will was no longer its own, it still remembered the recent events. It knew who to blame for killing it.

“Gaaaaaaaaryyyyyyyy…..” it groaned.