Ryan fought dirty, a blade in each had as the undead swarmer around him.He had entered a null state, where there was no thought, only action. A moments hesitation, the slightest pause as he moved and they would have him. A thousand hands would claw at him and drag him down to sate their hunger on his flesh. He was out of explosives dozens of shattered corpses attested to their effectiness, but still the tide of cold meat came on, pushing him back. He needed space. The thief dashed away from the melee, the zombies howling in fustration at their prey escaping from them, and clambered up on top of a truck that was blocking the street, its cab smeared with blood. Tiny specks resolved themselves on the horizon, growing larger every second.
BOOM
The noise was deafening as the jets passed overhead, breaking the sound barrier as they did so. Ryan's enhanced vision still had no trouble in spotting the ordanance cradled under their wings. Without wasting his breath on curses he turned and sprinted as the jets came back round for another pass. He had about fifteen seconds before they were in position, then another five before they were overhead, then he had no time at all. Weaving through the stationary cars that filled the street with the hungry dead nipping at his heels Ryan covered the distance that he needed to. Ten seconds left. He leapt onto the side of a building and ran along it, his feet sticking to the stone and giving him the purchase that he needed. Not for the last time that day, Ryan was glad that he had performed the upgrades on himself.
Five seconds left. He jumped clear of the building, turning the corner that revealed his objective.
Four Seconds left. Moving at top speed he used cars as ramps, going over rather than around the tangled mess of metal.
Three seconds left. The zombies were a hundred metres away, still coming, but distant enough not to be a threat.
Two seconds. A family watch in numb horror as he streaks past, their eyes fixed on the horde of undead chasing him. Ryan wanted to help, but there was no way. At least they wouldnt be taken alive.
One second. With a grunt, the teenage theif jumped the waist high fence at the edge of the river and plunged downwards. Overhead the jets releaed their deadly payload. White phosphorus, banned for use against any human combatant, but not the undead. Fire blossoms in the streets as hundred burn, paying the price for not fleeing the infected, many more of the undead are incinerated. After a lengthy investigation, white house officials would conclude that the safety of the nation was at stake and the collareral damage caused by the stick was well worth the payoffs. Ryan, along with many others at ground zero, would disagree.
Soaked through, Ryan dragged himself clear of the river on the opposite side, moving on his hands and knees until he was far enough away from the water to slump down on his back and pant in exhaustion. All around him, surving zombies did the same, making landfall to continue the slaughter. The airstrike had killed many, but not enough. On lunged at Ryan, but a kick to the chest sent it sprawling. Then the thief was up, knives in hand as he started to run again. But not as fast. His leg was paining him and therre was a deep tiredness in his bones.
"Hey! Hey you, get over here!"
A man was gesturing with one hand while the other cradled a shotgun. Ryan stumbled over and was hauled across a crude barricade by a dozen helping hands. Taking huge heaving breaths the thief glanced at his surroundings. About twenty people, all of them armed, were sheltering behind the barricade, which was constructed of furniture and cars. One woman had a baby strapped to her chest, but other than that there was nobody under twenty. All of them were grimy and spattered with blood, most of it not their own. From outside came the howling of the infected.
"Can you fight?" asked the man who had called to him. Ryan never did find out his name.
Nodding Ryan prepared his knives. Forming a rough semi circle the group watched as the undead charged. Then they were amongst them. Ryan spun, jamming a blade through one zombies temple while the other punched into a seconds neck at the base of the skull, severing the spinal cord and dropping the creature. A third zombie came in low, tackleing the young their off his feet. They sprawled together and Ryan thrust his knife into the monster's eye and swirled it through the brain, sending the zombie spasming to the ground. The report of firearms cracked through the street and more of the undead fell. Strong hands dragged Ryan to his feet and thrust a bundle into his arms.
"Get clear, were just about done here."
To numbed to do anyting else Ryan nodded and started climbing the tower block that the group was using to protect their backs. The group watched him go and then turned to face the next wave of zombies. It didnt take long. The guns stopped firing as they ran out of ammunition and then the tide of flesh overwhelmed them. Ryan stood alone atop the building, looking down at the horde of feasting undead. Dark smoke billowed around him, carried on the wind and Ryan could taste the sorcery in it. The dead turned on each other, doing themselves what the might of the US airforce had been unable to do. Thin wailing reached his ears and it was then that Ryan remembered the bundle. Looking down he found a child in his arms, wrapped in the remains of the harness that had held it to its mothers chest. With a grunt of expelled air, he sat down and began to rock the crying baby back and forth, waiting for the rescue teams to arrive.
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