Chard, who until now had been treating the injured Humphreys and Wilks, turned his fire on the horde.
Before they could even attempt to stand the three men were hit by the avalanche of undead.
Wilks was torn apart whilst Chard leapt over the pew and grabbed at the large statue of Saint Michael, trying to get a purchase on the body to lift him up.
Chard stumbled backwards towards Archer and fell flat on his back.
Archer, who was still blazing away at the creatures working their way through the porch entrance of the south didn’t even notice him fall.
The remaining resistance fighter stepped out in front of the retreating Chard and emptied a full magazine from the Sten gun.
None of them managed to reach him but that was his last clip.
Throwing the weapon down he drew out his pistol, a lightweight standard issue Pistole Revolveur Modele 1892.
Popularly referred to as either the 'Lebel' or 'model d'Ordonnance' it resembled the British Webley but fired six 8mm rounds.
He aimed carefully and squeezed off a couple of rounds, each once striking firmly into the bodies of the enemy.
At the altar Sergeant Smith held down one of the undead onto the heavy table.
His Sten was on the ground, now empty and effectively useless.
Reaching around he grabbed at his pig sticker bayonet, ripped it out and stabbed it down hard into the monster’s forehead.
It stopped moving almost immediately.
Clarke was the only other man left and even he was low on ammunition for his Enfield.
As more undead climbed in through the windows they started to retreat to the nave.
With a cry one of the things pulled at Clarke, dragging him down.
He dropped his rifle but Smith grabbed it and swung it hard into the creature before it could sink its teeth into Clarke’s defenceless throat.
Helping the man up they turned and ran into the hell that was the nave.
All the survivors in the church now made their desperate way to the tower.
Archer, now standing kept firing as best as he could but even the Bren couldn’t stop them all.
A small group of the undead blocked their line of retreat only for Humphreys and the German soldier to leap at them, striking with their weapons and clubbing them to the ground.
The last of them managed to take another bite out of Humphreys who collapsed in pain to the ground.
He tried to get up but another two creatures appeared and fell on him, biting and tearing at his body.
Under the church the small group of civilians cowered in fear.
The sound of the battle had turned from masses of gunfire to the sounds of shouting and running.
Whatever was going on it didn’t sound good.
The trapdoor opened and the soldiers started throwing themselves down.
The first to make it was Trent, quickly followed by Harris and then Captain Scott.
More gunfire ensued as Archer covered the rest as they climbed down.
His shooting saved them as his controlled accuracy made the best use of each .303 bullet.
None of the undead could get close as he fired round after round into them.
The last man to make it to the trapdoor was Smith who swung down inside, pulling Archer behind him.
Jones pulled the door down tight and slammed the large metal bolt across the hatch from inside.
They were now in darkness, with the only light coming from the torches that the old man had lit prior to them all moving to this place.
Above their heads they could hear the sound of the monsters, each one either trying to find the survivors or perhaps picking over the bodies of the wounded or dead that had been left in the church.
Jones and Smith dragged a number of the large containers over to the hatch to block it from underneath.
It would help but not for long.
Captain Scott headed towards the spot that Jones had described to examine the locked gate.
Just as he had feared the gate and lock were incredibly strong and would not break just by hitting or pulling at them with tools.
Smith came over and examined the metal, he whispered to the officer.
“We need something more powerful for this.”
Jones, who was nearby looked lost in thought, before moving over to the tools resting against the wall.
He moved back to the Captain, carrying the weapon on his shoulder.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier, this is the Panzerfaust!”
“Fuck me Jones, how could you forget that?” called out Sergeant Smith.
The German soldier, still carrying his Kar98K rifle stepped forward, holding out his arms to Jones.
It was pretty obvious that he wanted to take the weapon but Jones hesitated.
He looked to Smith who nodded, ever so slowly.
Handing the weapon over he pointed to the gate and then ran back, shouting at the others to take cover.
The German, obviously well trained in the use of the weapon, stepped back a good distance to avoid the detonation and then quickly checked his surroundings, presumably to ensure nobody was hit by the blast from the weapon’s discharge.
He finally depressed the launch trigger and with a quick flash the weapon launched the projectile directly at the gate.
The sound was deafening and the impact shook the foundations of the church.
The entire basement filled with dust and small chunks of debris.
Without pausing Jones and Smith moved past the wrecked gate, Smith carrying the burning torch and Jones staying close with his Sten.
As they left the catacombs and disappeared into the darkness Captain Scott gave the order.
The civilians followed with Archer at the back, covered their rear with his Bren gun.
* * *
Inside the vicarage Steiner and the other three men had spent the last fifteen minutes getting their weapons and equipment ready.
They had also been checking the area carefully for signs of the creatures.
So far the majority seemed more interested in what was going on at the church.
This wasn’t a problem for them as it gave them a better chance to escape than they had previously expected.
Even the sounds from out in the hall had stopped, though none of them was brave enough or perhaps stupid enough to open the door to check.
Outside near the outbuildings there appeared to be a truck of some kind.
Steiner hadn’t noticed it before due to the fact that the building was dark and couldn’t easily be seen from his current viewing position.
Though he’d wanted to get to the church, the amount of fire coming from there didn’t fill him with confidence as to its safety.
Also, the idea of climbing into a working truck and making a break for it was very, very tempting.
They had decided on a simple plan.
They would leave the old house through the window and out onto the roof of the southern annex.
This roof was low and they should be able to climb down whilst one of two of them stayed up high to watch for any sign of the creatures.
There were a few problems, one of which was that they had no idea if the truck would start or not.
Also, they didn’t know what lay to the north on the main road or even back into the village.
As Steiner worked the window, trying to open its old and stiff frame, a familiar groan came from inside the house followed by the crashing of glass.
The photographer looked at Steiner and then back at the door.
“Shit, it looks like they’re back!”
Steiner grinned and continued his work.
“Seems we have two options, either we stay in this room and fight or we get out of the window and go somewhere else.”
With a crunch he freed the window and slid it upwards.
The blast of fresh air was refreshing and for a brief moment the men almost forgot the trouble they were in.
More sounds from inside the house soon reminded them of their perilous situation.
Without hesitating, Smith climbed out onto the window ledge and started moving towards the low roof.
Carefully balancing himself he moved along until he reached the corner.
Looking back he saw the photographer climbing out.
He turned back and lowered himself carefully down to the low roof.
He dropped with a thud, luckily not breaking anything though his left foot stung for a moment.
He then moved to the southern edge of the roof, being extra careful to keep his body as low as possible so that he was not highlighted against the horizon.
In a matter of seconds he was there and had a perfect view of the gravel drive and outbuildings near the house.
The truck was resting inside the one of the shelters, more like a lean-to with a simple wall and galvanised metal roof.
Looking about he spotted no more than three of the creatures wandering aimlessly around.
They must all either be at the church or inside the house.
He looked back to see the photographer finish lowering himself down to the roof.
The other two men were close behind, the last one having just climbed through the window.
He noticed the last man failed to close the window.
Whistling as discretely as he could he tried to get the attention of the man but to no avail.
He was obviously way too concerned trying to make sure he didn’t fall off the ledge.
Steiner was about to turn back to looking at the truck when a loud crashing sound came from the room they’d just left.
In seconds an arm came through the window, quickly followed by the full torso of one of the creatures.
He swore under his breath whilst he lifted the shotgun to his shoulder, taking careful aim.
Back on the low roof the photographer was trying to help the one man down whilst the other kept moving back and for in a state of panic.
Steiner called over to him to stop moving and calm down but he wouldn’t listen.
More of the creatures left the window and started shambling to the low roof, now only feet from the two men trying to climb down.
The first, in his haste to get down lost his grip and even though the photographer tried to help he couldn’t stop the two of them collapsing to the ground.
The older man cried out in pain, his ankle twisted at an impossible angle.
Steiner moved over and helped drag them both away.
The last of the group refused to climb down, both terrified of the creatures and also the drop.
The man lifted a pistol and aimed it at the first creature.
“Don’t shoot, you’ll bring more of them!” Steiner shouted out.
The old man ignored him however and with a click, cocked his pistol and aimed it directly at the head of the closest one.
He fired a single shot, the bullet going wide, completely missing the creature.
It was now just feet from the man who now panicked and started firing, one shot after another.
Most of the bullets missed but a couple did strike the undead monster in the chest and knocked it down.
The old man turned to Steiner, bizarrely pleased with his little victory.
Steiner however knew this was no victory and with a single blast sent a chunk of lead pellets the short distance to the creature and right into its upper body and head.
Now it was dead!
The old man looked up from the body only to see another three of them following.
He pointed his pistol for it to click, he was out of ammunition.
Looking back as Steiner
he stumbled to the edge, moving to jump down to the same level as the others only to trip, sending his body over the edge and then down to the gravel floor below.
The fall either killed him or knocked him out.
Either way it was best as in seconds a dozen creatures moved out of the darkness and started tearing at his flesh.
Back on the roof the three survivors made short work of the three remaining creatures and then turned back to their plan.
“We can’t go back, those things are taking over the place,” said Steiner.
The photographer checked his pistol whilst replying.
“If we are going to make it to the truck we’re going to need a diversion to draw them away.”
Steiner didn’t seem impressed by this development.
“We need to check the rest of the roof, maybe we missed something.”
Steiner lifted himself up and moved cautiously along the roof, heading to the eastern part of the house.
In the distance, slightly to his left he could see the flashes of a big battle going on.
Tracer fire lit up the sky as the ground based guns poked at the aircraft overhead.
He could just make out the shape of parachutes off into the distance.
The photographer crept up to him, speaking quietly.
“Anything?”
“No,” replied Steiner.
“Then we need to get out of this place,” he said, repeating his earlier train of thought.
“What do you have in mind?
If you’re thinking of one of us running about like headless chickens you can forget it!” answered Steiner.