1:19

You dash through the house, barely taking it in. A blur of walls painted gunmetal grey. Sealant around the windows to keep them fixed shut. Furniture nailed to the floor. It almost looks like the inside of a ship. No time to think about it.

You grab the shotgun. You dash up the stairs and find a hatch cut into the ceiling, a ladder propped up against it. You feel an itching between your shoulder blades, like something is about to sink a set of teeth into it.

Up the ladder. Out into the daylight. The shotgun to your shoulder, scanning the street. Down below you hear Kaliff add his own howling to the din, goading them on. There is the sound of breaking glass as Luce puts through a window at the front. You see the barrel of a rifle poking out directly below you.

You realise you need to piss. Isn’t that stupid? You need to piss and your head is spinning and you aren’t ready. You just need a second. Just a second.

They’re coming.

The first one steps around the corner. A slouching, slackened thing. It looks like it was once a man but it moves like a beast, hunched low, hands to the floor. Its skin is greying. Its eyes are milky and sightless. It swings its head this way and that, sniffing at the air with a stump of a nose.

It tilts its head back and howls. It sounds like a scream of agony. The replies echo from all around you.

You raise the shotgun, your hands sweaty on the grip. Too slow, too slow by far. It moves. It’s fast. Faster than it should be…