Night of the Nazi Zombies (20 page)

“There’s more of them!”

To the east at least a dozen of these slightly faster undead creatures pushed out ahead of the pack, closing the distance to the church whilst the rest shambled behind.

Harris joined in, “Yeah, there’s more coming from the south too, at least a couple of dozen.”
 

Trent swore to himself and then turned to the centre of the tower where he could see Jones below, moving cases.

“Sarge!” he shouted.
 
Jones looked up to the dark shape of Trent.
 

“We’ve got incoming, from every direction,” he said.

Before Jones could move Trent added, “Some of them are moving faster, no idea why.”

Jones nodded in acknowledgement and disappeared, presumably off to tell Smith and the Captain the news.
 
Moving back to his window he looked out to the sea of undead monsters.
 
Tracking from left to right he could see no point in shooting at them yet.
 
The rest of the soldiers were equipped to deal with numbers, his job was to provide useful intelligence and to pick off key targets.
 
A few gunshots rang out from the men on the ground floor.
 
It was the unmistakable sound of the redoubtable Lee Enfield No.4 rifle that was being used.
 
From his vantage point he watched each of these quicker undead fall to the ground from the gun shots.
 

In the nave of the church all sense of order broke down as the British soldiers rushed into their prepared positions and proceeded to open fire at the closest targets.
 
Their shooting was controlled, a decision made once they realised the number of the undead outside the walls.
 
Though the soldiers were calm the five civilians did little to add confidence to the men’s situation.
 
One of the older women started crying out hysterically only to be quietened down by another elderly man.
 
Chard and Humphreys covered the northern and southern aisles, each stood atop the positions they had erected so they could shoot out of the windows.
 
The two young men that had been pulling up the weapons had now finished their chore and were stacking the equipment up in a pile in the centre of the nave.
 
Captain Scott examined the equipment before shouting at Jones who had just emerged from the dark basement.
 

“Sergeant!
 
See if any of these civvies can shoot then get them to watch the windows.
 
Keep an eye on them, understood?”

Jones nodded and moved to the two Frenchmen to see what they could do to assist.
 
Scott examined the weapons closely.
 
The Sten MKII submachine was not the kind of weapon he was used to.
 
He swore to himself at the cheapness of its manufacture.
 
It was a weird collection of metal framing and tubes, welded together with a simple metal stock and magazine running from its left side.
 
The gunshots continued and as he watched he saw Chard firing multiple bursts from his position.
 
Maybe the weapon wasn’t so bad; it certainly wasn’t a looker though.

He called back over to the sergeant, “Are they up for it?”

Jones nodded, explaining, “The two lads can use a weapon, we also have Monsieur Poulain and a middle-aged couple who can use a rifle.”

Captain Scott lifted his hand, signalling to Jones to wait a moment.
 
The rate of firing increased.
 
Shots were now being fired from both the chancel and the base of the tower.
 
He moved over to the base which had small windows facing to the north, south and west.
 
Scanning quickly in each of the three directions he could see a wall of movement only a hundred yards from the window, whilst scattered number of the undead were moving for the doors and windows.

“Fuck me!” shouted Scott before realising some of the civilians could just about hear his voice.

A hand tried to reach through the barred window, pulling at the bars.
 
Before the Captain could respond, Private Lewis lunged past him with his rifle.
 
Fitted to the end of the gun was his standard issue Lee-Enfield No.4 bayonet or Pig-Sticker as the men called it.
 
The bayonet was a simple metal spike and smashed through the undead creature’s forehead and right out of the back.
 
Lewis pulled it back through, the gore dripping from the steel, and proceeded to loose of several shots at the closest creatures approaching.
 
Captain Scott tapped him thankfully on the shoulder and then turned back to the nave to direct the battle.
 
He could see Jones talking to the small group in the middle whilst the German they’d rescued from the house was trying to pick up one of the Sten guns.
 
He was being held back by one of the older men whilst an old woman continued a verbal tirade at the man.
 
He stepped forward to intervene.

In the bell tower Trent was getting through substantial ammunition as he did his best to pick of the undead from his viewpoint.
 
Even concentrating on those he thought most dangerous was keeping him shooting almost constantly.
 
At this rate he would have to find more ammunition in a matter of minutes.
 
He could hear noise from the two men with him as they hauled the MG42 machinegun up to the large open spot to the west of the tower, a position giving them an almost 180 degree arc of fire from north to south.

Harris cocked the weapon and pulled the trigger.
 
The first burst shocked the three men as he burnt through three times the ammunition he expected.
 
The effect was impressive though as the stream of lead cut down a dozen creatures to the west.
 
Harris and Gardner looked at each other.
 
Gardner grinned and they continued the fire.
 
With just half a dozen bursts they had cut the numbers to the west by almost half.
 
That was their first belt of ammunition gone, two hundred and fifty bullets to kill at fifty of those things.
 
Doing a quick calculation in his head Harris could already see the problem.
 
They were way, way too short on ammunition to fight them like this.
 
Whilst Gardner fitted the next belt Harris ran down the stairs to grab as many grenades as he could find.

Captain Scott had finally persuaded the German soldier to stay out of the way of the French civilians.
 
There was obviously a lot of enmity between them and they wouldn’t stand for arming him with any kind of firearm.
 
He did place a substantial mallet in his hands though, one of the many tools they had found in the base of the tower.
 
With that problem resolved he turned back to Jones.

“I want you and these five to form a centre guard unit,” he waved his arm at M. Poulain, the two young Frenchman and the middle aged couple.

He continued, “Your job is to look for any gaps or weaknesses.
 
If you see a hole, plug it and then get back here,” he pointed to the centre of the room.

He handed the first two Sten guns to the young Frenchmen.
 
More gunfire came from the church tower, the sound encouraging the couple to grab a gun each.
 
M. Poulain, holding one of the weapons in a surprisingly comfortable position, spoke to the others whilst pointing at the parts of the weapon.
 

Captain Scott left the old man to explain about the weapons whilst he turned his attention to Adrienne and Madeleine who were still hiding along the aisle.
 
He gestured to them to come to the centre of the room.
 
They needed no encouragement as they made a quick dash to the middle of the church.
 
The captain held up handfuls of 9mm bullets and a Sten gun and then spoke slowly.

“I need you to give these bullets and loaders to the men with these guns,” he said.
 

He held the gun in front of them and then showed them the bullets along with the required magazine loader once again.
 
With an eagerness that surprised him, the two girls grabbed handfuls of bullets and split off to the aisle and chancel to help out.
 
As each girl reached one of the defenders they spoke or tapped on their arms and then placed the supplies nearby.
 
As soon as they were done they returned for more.
 
Captain Scott nodded in satisfaction.
 
This left just the three old civilians that were unable to fight, he had a job for them as well.
 
He beckoned for them to join him at the weapons stash whilst brandishing the weapons.

* * *

Out in the darkness of the French night Steiner was not enjoying himself.
 
He was cold, tired and his head was still pounding.
 
He really wished he hadn’t bothered with that awful local wine.
 
It wasn’t one of his better decisions.
 
After following a circular route to avoid the crashed tank and any contact with the creatures he had finally made it to a clearing just north of the village’s vicarage.
 
He was still surprised that this French village contained a vicarage, having always considered the area to be predominantly catholic.
 
The problem though was not the vicarage, but the fact that since getting to this location the number of creatures had multiplied massively.
 
By keeping low and quiet he’d avoided them so far.
 
Although after this careful evasion he was now in a situation where he could no longer turn back.
 
The sound of their groans had surprised him at the start but now he could hear them from every direction.
 
In front of him the vicarage looked quiet but that didn’t mean it was safe.
 
He could however make out moving shadows near the boundary of the large house and every tree seemed to house something untoward.
 
Off to the distance on his right was the cemetery and beyond that the outline of the church.
 
Should he make a break through the cemetery to the church or take cover in the vicarage whilst he mulled over his options?
 
If he sheltered in the large house he could wait there till daybreak, but what if nobody came for him?
 
He looked back to the cemetery; it was lined with trees that obscured the church.
 
He was about to make a move for the church when he noticed something that encouraged him to stay down low.
 
He concentrated, straining his eyes to look at the tombstones ahead of him.

“Shit!” he swore quietly to himself.

The cemetery was crawling with undead creatures.
 
They were moving slowly away from his position, presumably towards the church.
 
With a last moment given to consider his position, he lifted himself up and crept quietly forward to the vicarage.
 
The old house was well built, just like the nearby church.
 
There was no doorway from the north as the main entrance faced the cemetery to the east.
 
With a quick look around him he checked for any signs of the undead monsters.
 
It looked clear; he took a deep breath and then dashed to the house.
 
The distance was short but the fear of the unknown and the short term speed left his heart pounding in his ears.
 
He almost stumbled in his desire to clear the open ground.
 
With a final few steps he reached the corner of the house on the north-west section.
 
He pulled himself close to the cold stonework, making sure he looked as small and unnoticeable as possible.
 
Looking around discretely, it appeared that nobody seemed to have noticed him.
 
From this position he now had a good view of the courtyard to the west that led from the house to the cemetery.
 
There was a gravel driveway that curled from the house, down to the southern part of the house and the road.
 
This road led into the village and directly in front of the church.
 
Trees flanked the courtyard and it was these that concerned Steiner the most.
 
Under each one was a dark, shadowy area that Steiner wanted to avoid at all costs.
 
What worried him more than the darkness though was that he could again hear the groaning and moaning of the creatures out into the distance.
 
It sounded like they were on the move and yet he couldn’t see a single one in this area.
 

A distant gunshot echoed out across the skyline, the sound of the shot reverberated against the glass panes of the house and out into the courtyard.
 
Steiner looked out to the west.
 
It had definitely come from the church or somewhere very near.
 
The creatures let out more howls, their slow movement finally giving their positions away.
 
From under the trees and dark places the creatures started to move, the majority towards the cemetery and the church.
 
A small number just seemed to wander in random directions, as though they were waiting to be told where to go.

Steiner looked all around, checking none of them were heading towards him.
 
So far it looked okay.
 
He moved slowly, following the perimeter around the large house.
 
He stepped carefully, trying to keep the sound of his feet on the gravel as quiet as possible.
 
After a few more steps he came to a large bay window, looking inside he could see nothing due to the curtains being drawn tightly across.
 
Moving a little further he could see a small gap in the curtain.
 
He lifted himself up to the gap to peer inside.
 
As he eyes adjusted to the interior gloom he could make out overturned furniture.
 
Near the wall was a pulled down bookcase that looked like it was resting against the interior door.
 
Not a good sign!
 
Steiner continued past the windows and towards the substantial stone porch.
 
This structure pushed out almost six feet from the building so that it almost looked like a small house.
 
At the front of the porch it was totally open, the actual door to the building was inside, protected from the elements by the stone structure.
 
There was no sign of trouble at this part of the house, so Steiner slipped inside the porch and approached the door.
 
Nothing looked dangerous to him yet, apart from the fact that the front door was slightly ajar.
 
After years of fighting, Steiner was no fool.
 
If the door was ajar it was because somebody had left it that way.
 
The question was, why?
 
If it was a local then it could be a simple mistake, it could also mean one of those creatures had opened it or more likely, the house had been abandoned.
 
Steiner considered the room he’d looked at as he worked his way around the house.
 
Something bad had happened inside this house, the barricaded room suggested people had been trying to defend it.
 
Whether they had been successful though was to be seen.
 
Whilst he waited in the porch he heard more wailing from the creatures,
 
It was definitely coming from the courtyard so he lowered his submachine gun and pushed the door open with the weapon to reveal a large, empty hallway and a grand staircase that wound up to the first floor.
 
Taking a deep breath he made his way slowly into the house.