Michael Thomas - Night of the Nazi Zombies

Lieutenant Harvey answered, “Gone, we lost most of our heavy equipment in the crash...as well as the sappers and pilots.”

“Shit, bad day for all of us,” said the Captain as he rubbed his chin.

The church was eerily quiet, with just the sounds of the whispers of the men and their muffled footsteps as they carried out their tasks. The quiet was interrupted by the familiar thud of .303 weapons being fired.

Smith shouted, “Shit, they must be back!”

The door burst open and a shape of a man rushed inside. Scott, with surprising speed whipped his pistol out from his holster and pulled the trigger. Luckily for the running Gardner, Lieutenant Harvey knocked his hand to the side so the bullets thudded into the solid stonewall of the church. Gardner shouted to all those in the church.

“They’re back! They’re all around us!”

More sounds blasted in the distance, the loud crump of the mortar echoing through the church.

Smith called to the soldiers in the church, “Everybody, outside and on the wall now!”

Gardner rushed straight back out in the direction he’d come from, followed closely by Harvey, Scott and Jones. Smith moved to the door but called out his last orders before joining them.

“Lewis and Wilks, watch the windows and keep an eye on the girls!”

Archer slammed in another magazine and continued pouring fire out into the enemy. Every two or three shots put another back on the ground, still they got up. Gardner and Harris added their own fire with fast, accurate shooting from their bolt-action rifles. They had been well trained to work the bolt and continue the fire at a steady rate. When they ran out they simply dropped in more bullets via stripper clips and then carried on. Smith put one foot on the wall and lifted his Sten gun upto his shoulder. From his position he could see the problem and it had grown substantially since their arrival. From in front the numbers were heavy but being cut down by the Bren and rifle fire. Off to his left a number of the figures were moving from the vicarage and into the graveyard towards them, there were also several groups coming from the village itself, using the road to reach them. The rest of the men spread out and continued firing. The sound of the Enfields continued cycling whilst the Bren and Stens added their own short reports of automatic fire. Lieutenant Harvey put his hand on Smith’s shoulder and shouted to be heard over the noise.

“We need to find out what’s going on here. Who are they and why are they attacking?”

Smith nodded whilst firing another two bursts, he replied, “I’ve seen Yanks and Jerry so far and they all look the same, like they’re dead but somehow still moving.”

“Can we hold?” asked the Lieutenant.

“We can hold as long as they run out of men before we run out of bullets...watch out!”

Smith threw the officer to the side as a group of three of the creatures climbed over the wall to Smith’s right. In the same motion he put a dozen rounds into them, throwing them back onto the wall. Lieutenant Harvey approached the bodies cautiously; one of them was a civilian whilst the other was a Waffen SS soldier. He recognised the uniform and the double lightning flashes on the man’s collar. Either the American and German soldiers had joined forces for some bizarre reason or more likely, something else was going on, but what? As the gunfire continued the officer pulled the body behind the wall for closer examination. Though obviously a normal soldier there were a number of odd details. First, the body was cold, as cold as a corpse. Second, the wounds sustained from the firearms of the airborne soldiers were not bleeding fresh blood but the dark, pungent dead flesh of a corpse. Lastly, the mouth was bloodied, where it looked like the man had been biting or pulling at raw flesh. Captain Scott ran up to the Lieutenant and looked down at the body.

“Any thoughts?” he called out whilst taking a few shots with his carbine.

Harvey released the body, letting it slump to the ground, “Not really, other than these chaps are dead.”

“No shit, Lieutenant.”

Scott bent down and put his hand on the dead soldier’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. He held on for a moment until he was certain.

“Yes, I’d agree, he’s definitely dead.”

Lieutenant Harvey observed the defence of the church perimeter. So far all looked good, only a handful had made it to the wall and each time they had been forced back with small arms fire.

He turned back to the Captain, “I don’t think you understand, I mean these chaps were dead before we shot them.”

Captain Scott looked bemused, “Dead? If they were dead then how were they walking right up to us?”

The Lieutenant shrugged, “I have no idea, it seems like some of them have been dead for days yet they are able to move slowly around.”

The small number of soldiers continued their fire though their ammunition was now starting to look a little desperate. The number of hostiles in front of the wall had dropped to a scattering, the numbers having been thinned by the combined firepower of the Bren gun and 2” mortar. Out on the flanks things were fairing a little differently. Leaving just Gardner and Harris with their Enfield rifles on the wall, Lieutenant Harvey ordered the rest to the flanks. He joined Archer with his Bren gun as well as Smith and Clarke at the wall overlooking the cemetery and vicarage. Captain Scott and the remaining soldiers took the east side facing the road into the village. As soon as they were in position they resumed firing and the battle continued.

CHAPTER FIVE

The dark, solid church appeared unfazed by the unfolding battle. Though bullets and grenades exploded nearby it seemed to have no effect on the aging stone and glass. Up high in the tower was Trent, the unit’s marksman with his precision built Enfield No.4T sniper rifle. These rifles were standard No.4 rifles, selected for their accuracy during factory tests and then modified by the addition of a wooden cheek-piece, and telescopic sight mounts designed to accept a No.32 3.5x telescopic sight. In the hands of a man like Trent they could place a powerful .303 bullet into a target with both power and accuracy.

In his high position he had the best viewpoint, and what a view it was. He had a perfect view to the south where he could see the two riflemen guarding the wall, whilst off to the west Captain Scott was out with a handful of men to cover the corner of the wall where it turned off to the right. In the opposite direction Lieutenant Harvey could not be seen due to the rest of the church structure obliterating his view. What did interest him though was the view to the north. Though he could see none of the enemy from here, he could see various sites of interest. First of all he could make out the shape of an armoured vehicle, probably a tank that had crashed or been abandoned on a narrow lane. A short distance from this was a farm, along with some kind of workshop and several trucks. There were no lights or telltale signs of life anywhere off to his horizon.

Trent turned back to the north, he could see a couple of figures far off into the distance. Lifting the rifle up to his shoulder he zeroed in on the targets with the telescopic sight. Watching carefully he could see what looked like an old man. Trent wiped the sweat off his brow and checked again, it was definitely an old man and he was moving normally, not like those undead things they’d been shooting at for what seemed days. Where was the second figure though? He moved the scope just few inches in each direction until he spotted the shape; it was one of those things! Before he could move the rifle he spotted another one also following the man. Looking back at the old man it was obvious he was being chased.