Author’s notes: I do not have nearly as much time as I used to, so please stick with the story and be patient. Keep reviewing to help me keep going…

[Arizona]

“I can’t believe we had to leave the castle!”

Fred sighed. He was starting to get annoyed that Howard could not see the positive side to things.

“Howard, we are presently trying to escape from zombies. You would be little more than an entombed meal waiting to starve, die of dehydration, or for them to storm the place again. Please can we have either something helpful from you or no comment at all?”

The sheriff reluctantly chose to stay quiet.

“Why are we moving again?”

The SWAT leader turned to face the person asking the question, realising it was Mary.

“If we’ve got open ground, there are more pathways for us. Besides, there are probably other survivors and they might be using the same ideas.”

Nobody made any effort to argue this time. It was just as well, because they’d need to be working together to survive the coming challenges.

[SAS Temporary Safehouse, Wyoming]

Will walked along the corridor to see what was available from the fridge, and opened the door to find that the meat was running out and the fizzy drinks had long since been consumed. He sighed, wishing he’d told the Captain to stock up on food. However, the past could not be changed and the situation would have to be dealt with.

Heading to the roof, he found James staring through the sniper scope at the surrounding area. Once again, the dead appeared to be walking out the town and off to a source of more food. The SAS sniper’s trigger finger was twitching and immediately Will knew he was considering whether or not to snipe a few of the zombies.

“Don’t waste your ammunition. Anyway, the zombies would probably hear the sound.”

The sharpshooter sighed and reluctantly put the L115A3 Long-Range Rifle down. He would need the ammunition for when the time was right.

“You’ve come up here for a reason, and it isn’t to tell me to stop wasting ammunition. What is it you need to say?”

As if hearing the sound of the sniper’s voice, Matt climbed up to join his friends.

“Something wrong? Is our ammunition running low?”

Will shook his head.

“No, actually. Our ammunition stock is actually pretty good, but our food is starting to run out and Conan’s had to presently store his flamethrower as we don’t want to risk starting a fire, we don’t have the oil to waste right now and if we use it, we might attract the dead. We need to find a way to resupply.”

James nodded, raising his rifle.

“I said not to fire your rifle!” hissed Will.

“And I heard you. I’m just looking through the scope to see where the supplies are.”

“Oh.”

Looking through the scope, the sniper swept the road with his eyes, evaluating everything.

A destroyed Humvee lay on its side, the turret wrecked completely. The ammunition belt had gone missing, either taken by looters or entirely used up. Next to it, a damaged roadblock sat uselessly. A zombie was impaled on it, as still a rock and three holes in its head. More corpses were scattered across the road, some with bullet wounds and others from the mauling they had taken, a few dressed in military uniform.

To the side of the road and the left of the fortified office block, there was a corner shop, but the window had been smashed. James didn’t know why, and frankly didn’t care. A few metres to the right was a takeaway and to the left, a gun store.

“Jackpot.”

Will looked at him.

“Found something?”

James turned around, a happy grin on his face.

“You bet.”

“So let me get this straight… we’re to try and get into some corner shops to resupply, then take all that crap back into our fortified office building while having to deal with the living dead outside.”

The ten men sat in a meeting room, using the chairs that had been left here. Despite the thorough cleanup, the area still smelt of death. Not as much as it used to, but enough for some of them to put their biohazard masks on. When they got some deodorant to use, they would have to spray this room completely.

“Yep.”

Nick tried to say something, but it came out completely muffled.

“What?”

The SAS troop took his mask off and tried again, revealing brown eyes and ginger hair.

“I said, we need to consider what we’re doing and where we’re going for supplies. Where are the stores again?”

There was a slight pause.

“They’re to the left of us, further down the street.”

Nick stared at him in disbelief.

“How are we meant to get into the street and bring all the crap back? It isn’t possible without alerting those things!”

Matt slid a sheet of paper across to Will, and the squad leader picked it up. It listed all supplies the team had originally found. He gave it careful examination, and then looked up.

“Can we get any bridges at all?”

Greg’s attention suddenly skyrocketed, and he turned to face Will.

“What did you have in mind?”

Twenty minutes later, Will, Conan, James and Myles stood with their gear ready, while Greg crouched a few metres away. As Conan was storing his flamethrower for a better time, he carried an M16 assault rifle.

“I hate these damn M16’s. This is why we’re better off with the MP5.”

Will nodded. The M16 was the worst assault rifle ever manufactured, but to this day the American Armed Forces still used it. Or at least they used to. He stood there for a few minutes, absorbed in thought. Did America have any armed forces left, or were they all wandering around in their cannibalistic way?

“Hey, Will! Focus!”

The leader instantly snapped back to reality, and he nodded to Greg.

“An impressive job. Hopefully we can get more supplies from the next building. I just hope this bridge can support our weight.”

Looking at the bridge, it was relatively impressive. After some careful scavenging from the ground floor, several of the desks from there had been combined to make a bridge of sorts, allowing the SAS access to the other building. It wasn’t what the leader had in mind, but it would do.

He looked at Greg once more, his expression serious.

“If we don’t get back, Matt’s in charge.”

[Arizona]

“Where are we even going, Fred?”

The SWAT leader made no attempt to answer. Instead, he kept on walking and raised his rifle. And for good reason.

The remnants of an armoured car lay in the middle of the road, burned out completely. But something was inside it, and Chloe heard the sound of moaning, followed by flesh hitting into metal.

Stanley cursed under his breath in disbelief, raising the M16.

“How the hell did one of them survive being burned in an armoured car?”

At that moment, the window near Howard smashed, and the upper half of a ten-year-old boy fell out, crawling towards him with its decaying limbs. Riley was the first to move.

“Never mind how that damn thing got in there! Run for it!”

As if on cue, more windows smashed and doors protested, squealing as they were unceremoniously bashed down by the living dead. A pair of rotting arms reached out to drag Alan away, but only succeeded in partially ripping his shirt and the redneck shot forwards, running for all he was worth. Howard raised the hunting rifle he was carrying and fired a shot at the infant zombie, destroying its brain. A second shot rang out and hit a member of the undead in the shoulder, causing it to stumble.

“You idiot! You’ve rung the dinner bell!”

The group kept on running, trying to block out the noise of the dozens coming towards them…

A/N: Well, here we go. This chapter has taken over a month to write, largely due to getting back in schedule again.