I watched from above as the soldiers fired mortars into the city. They slowly moved along to the west through downtown. They were blasting the city apart. The smoke filled the sky and covered Minneapolis in a haze. The living moved slowly through the streets. They didn’t even know what they were firing at, but kept doing it.
They were getting closer every minute, pushing through the wreckage that used to be Minneapolis. They were getting closer to the dead with each step. The tanks led the way like before. The smaller vehicles and men on foot followed closely behind. They stayed close together, never letting anyone fall behind.
The soldiers great plan was about to be ruined. The dead were moving closer and closer to them. They were surrounding them on all sides. Didn’t they know they would be outnumbered? They were almost to the center of downtown when the attack started. The dead moved as one giant mass, pushing and clawing their way toward the living. The soldiers started firing. They kept together and held the dead off.
Too bad the dead never stop. They never get tired or scared or bored. They are like machines, machines designed only to kill. They kill and never stop killing. The mass crowds the living. They surround them on all sides. The living keep fighting and pushing forward, but they are being overrun.
The battle continues on as the sky darkens. The living are keeping up, but it won’t be long until they are all eaten. The lines start to waver and the men grow tired. The dead never get tired. They just keep piling up.
Finally, one gets through. Then another and another follow. They tear through the lines, the living panic. They keep fighting, but it quickly goes from being an army of soldiers to a gang of barbarians. They are fighting for their lives. There is no plan anymore. Each man and woman is fighting just to stay alive. They start to break up. Some of them run, while others try to group together and fight. The tanks keep pushing forward though.
They are getting closer and closer even though they are dying faster than they can walk. There are still hundreds of living fighting their way through. The battle rages on. It’s almost completely dark and starting to rain. I watch the battle for a little longer until I hear a familiar beeping.
I reach into my pocket and pull out a cell phone. I casually flip it open and read the text.
“They are here.”
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