The headlights illuminated the tree that sheltered me throughout the night. It seemed an eternity away, my last hope for a desperate escape from a desperate escape. The undead gathered, like masses of faithful heading for benediction.

A benediction of blood.

It is a testament to the human condition that in the moment of most despair, the mind still quests blindly for hope. With a cry, I pushed the door open, sending a few tumbling to the ground like foetid and demented bowling pins.

But fate had a very different ending in store for me. A wall of flame erupted around me, white heat sizzling from the sockets of the zombies as their flesh turned to cinder, their bones to charcoal.

A horror gallery stood ranged around me, radiating dark heat, and in a panic I stumbled against one. It crumbled, much like Lot’s wife did, into a pile of ash.

Over the next hill came a pair of figures, one large and armed, and the other, petite and beautiful.