Chapter Text
Gaz keeps the car at a slow enough speed, honking the horn every now and then to keep the flock from stepping away. She can’t help but look out every now and then, watching the dead that try and grab at the surface of the car. The months have not been kind to these harbingers, their bodies mangled. Teeth rotted, nails yellowed, even their skin looks as if it’s made of wax. She thinks if she stuck her finger against a cheek her finger could push in. Shivering slightly as she recalls the times she’s killed them, many nights hiding to escape them and now? Now she brings them, herding them toward a sickness bigger than them.
A loud sound causes some of the buildings to shake even as they’ve been good distance out. She gasps, hearing another loud sound, her thoughts snapped out of her. Seems as though Johnny had placed another bomb. Quickly she looks behind her and she notices in the far distance a plume of smoke peaks out. “The warehouse…”
“Hey,” Gaz says, placing his hand off the horn to squeeze her thigh. “They’ll be fine, trust them, okay?” Taking notice of the road again, their comms won’t reach that far but with how slow they have to drive to get up there and keeping the herd with them, they should be meeting up with them soon. “Only a matter of time, okay, Sunshine.” He tells her... and himself. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about his lovers. It’s second nature at this point to worry, maybe he’s just as bad as John.
Nodding at him, looking out the window, the constant groaning and moans of the dead surprisingly help her think. It takes a reassuring smile from her before Gaz moves his hand and starts honking his horn once again when the herd starts to thin out. The horn gains the deads attention once again and they follow like moths to a flame. “Are you ready?” He asks her, his voice more certain. Not as soft as earlier.
She knows what he’s asking her; Are you ready for what you are about to do? She’s thought it over as much as she can considering how sudden everything has been. Death has no mercy, never has and never will. Death is nature but the ones outside the car are anything but.
“Yeah.” No, “Yeah, I’m ready.” No, I’m not.
“You don’t have to be the one to kill him.” He says, his eyes, knowing and kind. A hidden yet sharp edge to them though, she’s lived long enough in this world to know the killers. Even as kind as Gaz is… he’s a killer, killed for peace. Killed to save. Killed to save himself, he’s used to this. “You know John’s offer still stands. You don’t have to do this.”
“It’s not..” She breathes in, “It’s not Issac that I am thinking off.” Jumping a lil when a zombie smacks his head against her window before it falls back into the group. “It’s the rest of the group. What if… What if this does more wrong than good?”
A silence befalls the car, as much silence as Gaz can afford at least before he has to honk the horn once again. “You want my honest opinion?” The way he speaks tells her that he will be, that he will be as brutally honest with her. When she nods, he slows the car to a snail pace to look at her. “You’re worried that you’ll cause innocents to die.” He states, no question needed when she stiffens. Proving him right even without a chance to steel herself. “A lot of people are gonna die, a lot of people will become the dead that are outside this very car. You’ll see their faces, especially the ones you kill personally.” Stating an inevitable because no matter what he tells himself, he still sees the ones he killed. Like a distant numbing buzz in the back of his head, a reminder of what he had to do to keep the world safe.
The silence now is deafening, choking out any remark she would’ve made. “Innocent or not, good or bad, even the ones just ‘following’ orders will die. That is a fact.” Saying his words like its law, “None came to your aid though.” His face hardens as his hand grips the wheel, “anyone of them could’ve said that ‘No, I will not eat my friend, my father, my mother, I won’t be like an animal.’ But they did.” He understands, out of everyone he understands what pressure, fear, and hunger can make a man do. But even he has never looked at his lovers and wondered what they would taste like from being roasted over a fire.
Anger begins welling up, an anger that he’s felt since the day on the radio hearing her screams and cries. “When we interrogated some of Issac’s scouts to find you, they spilled more than guts.” His eyes flicker to the road, honking a couple times. “They told us what they did to wonderers, what they did to woman and children.” His knuckles tightening, turning lighter from the force, “There may be a chance that there are some innocents in Issac’s group but all of them,” looking at her directly, “ate knowing where they got their food.”
The realization makes her lock up, “Issac… He.. He told them after all?” She had thought that Issac wouldn’t have, surely someone would be disgusted. Someone wouldn’t agree to eating flesh willingly. Even she will have bile run up her throat sometimes whenever she thinks back to when she was in the town. Thinks back to the time when she knows now that the deer meat wasn’t always deer. That what she ate could have very well have been someone she talked to.
“He did,” He nods, eyes darker. Colder even, something reserved for missions, reserved for the ones that deserve it. “I don’t know if people left. I don’t know if people fought against it. We didn’t ask those questions.” Taking a deep breath. “What I do know is that the people at the town now, good or bad, are guilty. They’re survivors wanting to live another day but they did so by staying in that town and knowingly eating people.”
“So,” he nods as if agreeing to what he and his lovers have thought since knowing what Issac and his group are, “I don’t think they’re innocent. I think they’re like the dead outside this car.” Pointing a finger out towards the window, the herd following still. “Mindless, thoughtless, hungering for another meal. Those people are bad if not worse than these f*ckers.” A soft breeze in the tree catches her attention, the sun looks to set in an hour or so. A countdown to what she and so many will face. “Death,” Gaz announces, like as though he read her thoughts, gaze piercing her as he speaks a hard learned lesson from his time in the military. “Death has no mercy; they all will get what’s coming to them one way or another.”
“I…” Brows furrowed together as she tries to make sense of his words. They’re simple, clear cut, practically smacking her in the face, and yet she struggles. “I just want Issac dead.”
“And say you do,” agreeing with her, “you kill him but you offend the rest. They’ll never stop chasing after you, he will never stop till he has you.” Glaring at the rearview mirror as if it offended him. “Those men are willing to die for him, willing to eat what he gives them.” Honking the horn a couple times to get the stragglers attention. “Killing all of them is a mercy.”
His words hold too much weight, deep down she knows he’s right. None came to her aid, none helped her when she screamed herself hoarse in that house. She remembers the laughing though, remembers the sickening smiles. Like wolves watching a wounded prey struggle to live. Not giving the killing blow but sure as hell letting that prey suffer when they could’ve helped.
Angelica would’ve helped. The thought crosses her mind, a flash of a smile and a ghost of a laugh echoing in her mind. Angelica would’ve yelled and screamed how wrong it is to eat humans. Angelica would’ve but she died by Issac’s hand and they ate her. Their grubby, sleazy, sh*tty hands ate her, tore into her on that damning night of her unwanted wedding.
Like a crack of a whip, something changes in her. Turned what little sympathy she had like what mold does to a house. Darkening like the spots of the dark clouds that can be seen in the background. The sun is getting lower now that the town is closer in view.
She smiles, colder like ice, as cold as the dead that walk beside them. “You’re right,” her voice calm, even as her heart starts to beat faster. Her hands clenching tight and she meets his gaze. “They’re like animals.” A resolve building in her, a resolve that was already there but needed to be guided. Needed to be shown light when there was only grief and anger. Her eyes meet with one of the dead, it stands still in the herd. Stands still and stares at her, eyes so dead and dark that it sucks her in. A reflection of an animal she sees, an animal that has her face and her very eyes.
An animal just like you.
John sneezes, wiping his nose with a huff as he breathes in and out. “Think someone’s missing you, John?” Soap grins with a knowing grin that’s met with a smug look.
“Can’t help it if Kyle likes me more.”
“Oi!” Both of the men glare at their Captain, banter not lost as they travel through the streets and winding roads. It’s somewhere around five now and they’re nearly there on foot. Having to take a wider U around to get behind the town. The warehouse is long become ruble, even some fire catches on the buildings they’ve already long passed. They’d be worried about it if they didn’t have more pressing matters.
“Gaz and our girl should be almost there,” Price states, Ghost already looking through his scope and he spots the back of the town finally. The dark clouds not going unnoticed either.
“In view,” nodding to them, his eyes squinting tight, “Don’t see any growth in the dead though.” He comments right after. A gnawing fear starting to settle in them and it’s Soap that pipes up.
“Ye ken they’ll be alright. Gaz is far too punctual to miss out and our bird,” he grins, “she’s probably itchin’ to show face.” At that mentioning the men all share a laugh. Picking up the pace as the town is more in view. Hauling the pack of smaller explosives over his shoulder as they pass the wondering dead again. The trek weighing heavily on their minds as each prepare themselves for what’s to come, of the fight that will happen. All for the sake of love.
“-ice, come in Price.” The static of the comms and the familiar voice brings just a bit of peace of mind. Her voice growing insistent, “Price... no Gaz, I know what I’m doing.” Hearing the amusem*nt in her voice. Ghost can’t help but snort when they overhear her seemingly scolding Gaz.
“I’m here, love.” Price murmurs over the comm, mirth in his voice.
“Where are ya? Don’t have me thinkin’ that your gonna miss the party now.”
“I wouldn’t miss it, darling,” admitting playfully, picking up the pace even more, “We’re nearing the back of the town now. About 30 clicks out.”
The static picks up and he vaguely hears her asking Gaz what ’30 clicks’ mean before she gets back on. Her voice sounding more sure, “Gaz said we are about that much to the front, he also said that the sun will most likely set soon.”
Tapping into the comm, “Dinnae worry Bonnie, ‘ve got something that’ll light up the night.” Soap heartily laughs into the comm. Hand clutching his chest, an eagerness buzzing in him.
Ghost decides now’s a good time as any to join in, “Gaz don’t get to close to the front, exit the car and place somethin’ heavy on the gas pedal so it can ram the gate.” Speaking from experience on crashing numerous vehicles… for missions, of course.
They wait a couple seconds as it sounds like the comm is being passed to its owner. Finally, they hear their lover respond. “Yes, sir, will do.” Gaz clearing his throat starts to speak. Old habits die hard especially when Ghost sounds more like Ghost than Simon. “What’s the plan from here?’
The two looks to John and he taps on his comm, “Divide and conquer. Soap will set charges to the back and by the time you have that gate open it’ll force Issac out of hiding.” The mirth once in his voice replaced with the tone he’d use before heading into a mission. No nonsense, expecting full compliance from his men. One, that they all will readily give him. “Darling.” He says expectantly, waiting for her response.
“Yeah, John?” Hearing the nervousness in her voice makes him crack a smile against his unruly beard. Like as if she has been pulled into his office to get reprimanded, thankfully she’s never seen him in his element.
“You tell Gaz immediately when you see Issac.” He orders, not caring for any excuse or protest. “You tell Gaz and take him with you, understand?” All seem to wait for a response that is until a heavy “yes sir” is heard making them all sigh in relief. Price has to admit he expected some protest but he’s grateful that she didn’t. He’d hate to have to order Gaz to keep her from the fight.
“Good girl, by the time the sun hits behind the trees we three will make our move.” Nodding to Soap and Ghost, “Soap is gonna create us enough noise to help you two sneaks in while our dead friends make use of their new play pen. Understand?” An array of yes sirs is heard and that’s all Price needs to still the slight increase of his heart. Soap takes over on talking on comms while Ghost and Price walks in silence. The occasional answer here and there from Ghost as they get closer to the town, the sun setting behind the trees. Closer and closer they get to their goal.
The tree line gives coverage to hide the three men, slowly getting into position that is needed. More in their element since the start of this pandemic. Ghost taking point with his scope as he notices fewer guards. Motioning with his fingers to signal to Price, a nod from their Captain as he sets up his to line with the second guard. He and Price take out the two at their lookout tower and Price gives the okay for Soap to place his first of many bombs. Come sunrise there won’t be a town left or anyone to hurt what’s theirs again.
“Let’s get to work boys.
Fire is starting to grow on the outskirts of the town. As the panic makes the men in the town make more mistakes, Price uses that to his advantage as he gets in unnoticed. Making his way into the armory the town has, killing the few men that came running to it with experienced ease. Grabbing a bomb that Soap made from his own pack and throwing it in there. Running away as it explodes, the commotion sending the towns people into more of a frenzy. Soap is making quick work of blowing up some more buildings. Ghost sniping the few that are getting to close to Soap’s position as the townsfolks, at least the ones not panicking, are shooting blindingly into the growing night. “Gaz how’s it going on your part?” Speaking as calmly as he can into comm as he hides in a building.
The sound of a car horn finally coming up over the hill can be heard. Faint as it’s still a lil far, “They’re comin.” A widening grin as Price gives his praise. Taking out some of the people as they start to line the entrance. Shouts from the men noticing the herd growing and forming more outside their front door. Another bomb goes off in the distance as the fire starts growing more, licking into the ground. Spreading into the most vulnerable areas. Price looks around, being careful not to get shot by the stray bullets. The men of the town are yelling things, probably trying to figure out how to handle two fronts and he hasn’t seen Issac yet. “No sign of Issac, yet.”
“Could’ve tucked tail an run.” Soap growls out, sounding scratchy due to the comms buzzing a lil. Placing another bomb down. He’s only got a few leftover. He’ll need to make those count.
Back with the two in the car, Gaz parrots the words to her and she shakes her head. “She’s saying that he’s probably in the church.” His hand gripping the wheel. “We’re nearing the entrance.” The dead growing more and more as the car horn and the screams of the townsfolk are like dinner bells to them. A couple bullets hit the car and he curses, his hand moving to her neck as he yells for her to get down. “Ghost!” He shouts in alarm.
“On it.” Baring down the scope and looking for who’s shooting at Gaz and their girl. “One down,” he says as he takes out one. Searching for the others and his bullets hit the marks. “Clear. Get a move on Gaz.”
A roll of the man’s eyes as he turns to her as she sits up. “We have a rifle you, it’s in the trunk.” He says as he motions for her to exit the car, keeping her head down so to not get shot. Stopping the horn as the zombies don’t need to be herded anymore as they start spreading into the town. Popping the trunk as he looks at her grab the rifle. There a couple books that Price had found months ago and Gaz figures they’ll be heavy enough. Stepping out carefully, the guards at the town are shooting the sea of the dead and Gaz doesn’t want to get shot nor does he want her too either. Placing the heavy books on the gas pedal and it screeches to life, going zero to 60 as it bulldozes into the entrance. Creating a large enough gap that the dead need no encouragement.
Stepping beside her, his hand pulling out his gun. Checking to make sure he’s got bullets before he looks over at her. “You’ll be with me and the second you see him you tell me. Understood.” He says, repeating Prices words once again, and she nods and goes to hide in the sea of the dead.
Following after her quickly, his hand gently grasping her wrist, “I need to hear you say it, Sunshine. Need to know you’re not gonna run off on me.” The groaning and the screaming seem to drown out as she looks at him. For one second, through all the groaning and fire that spreads it quiets down enough for her to listen.
“I…” she starts and looks down, how is she going to tell him that she is going to find Issac on her own. She said she would tell him but… she has to do this. “Alright, I’ll tell you when I spot him.” Lying through her teeth and she hopes he’ll fall for it again.
He moves guiding her through the dead, keeping a hand near her neck just in case he needs to move her out of the guards’ line of sight. “Normally this would be a death sentence but we are pretty covered.” He grins at the bad pun, the zombies blood has kept them safer than he thought it would. The smell of the zombies blood and guts will never leave his mind unfortunately. Handing her a metal whistle that gym coaches would have. “Knew this would come in handy one day, ey? Use it in case we get separated, okay?” He grins and she takes it.
“Thank you, Kyle.” Quietly saying as she pockets it. The herd of dead ignore them and they slowly work their way towards the entrance. “Alright, let’s go.” He presses to his comms. Silently approving how she holds it. Definitely trained to some extent. “We’re making our move looking for our target.”
“Affirm.” He can hear his Captain say.
Taking their time as they move into town, “I’m all out of bombs!” Soap yells on comms. The last bomb exploding behind the church. “Price where ya at? I’ll make my way to you.”
“No,” He coughs into the comms, “Meet up with Gaz. Keep her protected till she finds Issac.” Gunshots on the comm can be heard. Ghost is keeping watch over them as he notices that most people are starting to scatter and leave.
“Seems they didn’t like our welcoming gift.” He laughs as he snipes. Less and less to worry about as the zombies have the numbers. The fire from the bombs is starting to catch more. The panic is making the townsfolk more and more vulnerable. He’d feel bad if he actually cared enough to. He moves his scope around to find Gaz and her. “Gaz.”
“What?”
“Where is she?”
Ghost sees the man turns around and curses as he looks for her. “sh*t.” His eyes roaming the street to find her and he sees her running towards the church. “f*ck! She’s running to the church. I think she saw Issac.” He goes to move but is forced to duck behind some cars due to the gunfire. “I’m pinned.” He growls out, she must’ve slipped from his view. Probably used the zombies against him, he’d be proud if he didn’t feel a shot of fear run through him.
She knows she was supposed to stay with Gaz. She knows he’ll be mad. She knows it but she saw Issac and instinct took over. That raging need for vengeance that clouded her mind took over. Ghost wasn’t kidding when he said that it’s like a predator hunting prey. Like a wolf stalking it’s meal. She saw him barely through the smoke, his green eye widening at the sight of her before running off. That was all she needed to see before ran after him. Issac must’ve shouted for help as she spots two men coming close to block her path.
That doesn’t deter her from following him as he runs towards the church, she’d laugh at the irony if she wasn’t so hellbent on killing him. Shouldering her rifle as she shoots at Issac’s shoulder making him cry out. Someone shoots the other men that is around him and she can’t be bothered to figure out who took them out for her. Probably Simon or John covering for her as she marches on towards her mark.
Screams and cries as the buildings burn and the town is razed. The dead getting and biting on the townsfolk but she can’t be bothered by it. The bruises on her body, the healing rope burns on her arms and legs can’t be bothered by it. Her bitemark throbs as she gets closer and closer to the one that gave it to her. Not an ounce of mercy as she stalks to the church that she saw Issac running into. Her rifle in hand as she uses it to push and guide a zombie away from her.
The man pants, his hand clutching his bleeding shoulder as he slams the double doors of the church open. The stained glass that depicts the Bible stories of her youth. The fire outside causes the glass to glow and create a near peaceful atmosphere if it wasn’t for the massacre the deads are causing right outside. The sainted statues in the middle with their solemn looks and their hands held in prayer, almost like they are pleading for His mercy at this very moment. But there is no God now.
Only her.
A crack shot of her rifle, and he screams in pain. Falling down as the bullet pierced through his knee making him fall. She’s always been a good shot, better than most would give her credit for. Issac crawls with blood staining the once clean carpets. Trailing a couple feet behind him while the man pathetically whimpers and pleads for mercy to God that no longer answers.
“Fitting, isn’t it Issac.” Her voice calls out at him as he crawls towards the altar. “Just like the stories, no?” The man whimpers whether in agreement or not she continues speaking. “How’d it go?” She thinks mockingly, “oh yes,” she laughs now, “Issac as the lamb for his father Abraham. A test of faith, to prove loyalty and trust.” Her voice sounds coldly amused as he moves on bloodied knee.
“But you’re no lamb. I don’t think your God would even want you as a sacrifice.” She co*cks back the trigger and shoots again as he tries to grab his knife. His hand now gaped with a hole as he let out a pained yell, knife clattering uselessly to the bottom of the altar. Her focus deadlier than ever, even as her heart pounds like a drum a cold like calmness carries her across the carpets and worn out pews.
The blood on her face and the zombies' guts hanging around her like a rosary as she looks down at the pathetic man. Crying and bleeding as he begs, “I-I never meant to hurt you!” He says, pressing a hand on the alter to lean his weight on it. Shakily standing as he watches her step close with her rifle. Like a demon out of hell as she’s covered in blood. Her head tilted as her eyes narrowed.
“Lies?” She muses, “in this house of God. How many more sins will you commit?” Mocking him and his very faith that he hid behind to hide how sick and twisted he is. To hide what he never could pray away but then again, some sins are made but his? His sin was being born, for breathing air that was never his to breathe.
“I’m not ly— !” He tries to say but she shoots at his other shoulder cutting off whatever lie he tried to say. Yelling out as the force of the bullet makes him bend backwards until he falls on the altar. His blood seeping into the wood as he tries to get up. “So now what? You’re gonna kill me with your gun instead of being fair.” Another question to stall his inevitable, his eye searching hers but the shadows of the fire growing outside gives barely enough light to see her face.
She scoffs, moving her hand to her pocket to fish something out. “I don’t need to play fair with the likes of you.”
He freezes as he looks to her, days ago she wouldn’t even look at him. Days ago, she was the one crying. Days ago, he could do whatever he wanted to her, and she’d take it. “Oh, come on, y-you’re not gonna kill me. You don’t ha-“
She laughs, “I don’t have what?” Her eyes widen, co*cking her head down as she stares unblinking, “Do you know how many I’ve killed just now? The deaths I’ve caused?” His one green eye widens as she looks deadlier as the fires of the town get brighter. The groan of the dead and the screams and pleading of the townsfolk nearly echoing in his ears. “You talking is only prolonging the inevitable end of your miserable f*cking life.” Finally getting what she was searching for out of her pocket.
Her palm clutching it, her eyes flicker down as she contemplates something, “When Issac,” she starts gaining his attention once more, “ was about to be sacrificed on that altar on Mount Moriah. What did Abraham find to take Issacs place?”
“W-what?” Confused at her asking that question. Confused on why now she wants to know. “What a-are you talking about?”
“Come on, you’re a priest's son.” She mocks, disappointment in her eyes as she leans left on her hip. Tossing the flickering metal in her left hand, “What did Abraham find to take Issacs place?” She grins, her words slower as if talking to a baby. The item in her hand shines from the firelight. Enjoying how he struggles to think as his blood continues to seep out into the altar.
“A-A ram.” He says, “A ram took Issac’s place.” Fear pumping into his heart, his hands trembling as his very words shake.
She nods and laughs, “Correct!” She smiles wider, ”but this time…” Letting her rifle fall to her side as her face goes blank. No anger or rage in her voice but a calmness. A certainty in the way she knows how this will end.
“This time there will be no ram.”
One green eye widens, the meaning understood now as he tries to scramble to get up. “What are you ta-?” A loud whistle is heard as her lips press against the metal. Louder and louder as she calls to the dead that’s outside. Groans and the tell tale sign of zombies moving close can be heard. Making her whistle sing louder, the sound of death coming for her. Answering her call as she stares at his panic filled eye.
The whistle calls to the sinners as they stumble and fall in. The pews being moved as the lamb at the alter cries and begs. The dead pass her, covered in their blood and guts. Marred by their stench as she stares down her nose with a look of indifference, they pay no heed to her but to the bleating lamb. Her shoulders being shoved and touched as she steps back. The flames shining brighter behind the stained-glass of the windows and the high ceiling, the light starts to illuminate the church. The light doesn’t reach her as she walks backwards towards the open doors. The sinners still come crawling in at the sound of the man begging for God’s mercy, for any mercy. But God isn’t here in this desecrated church. Only her and she demands penance and sacrifice.
“No! No! Stop!” The man cries and kicks but the hands of the sinners hold to him, forcing him down more on the altar, as the sainted statues cannot bare witness. Their solemn looks have a fear as the light causes a shadow making it look as if they are looking away. Looking away from him. His one eye looks at her and she holds no pity. No mercy. No guilt as he screams in pain as they bite into him. She stays and watches as he flails as they pull him apart with ravenous hunger. Even as he tries to grab at his knife to stab at the ones eating him. He begs, begs and screams at her to shoot him, to give him mercy but she gives none.
She leaves only when the anguished screams stop, when she sees his hand no longer gripping the knife, when the light in his eye fades. Staring emptily at her as the dead feast on their meal. Finally, she tuns sparing not a second longer, her back turned as the flames started catching onto the church. The stained-glass cracking from the heat as she walks aimlessly into the night. Trudging along as the zombies pass her in favor of their meals. The painful cries of Issac’s people resound in her ears. Ringing through her and she walks in a daze.
Hands grab her and she screams. Screams so loud that rotting heads towards her, their dead eyes staring into her and her soul. She fights against the hands that grab her, shoves and jerks until they tighten around her waist. A hand slithering up to grip her jaw and forcing her to look.
It’s Ghost that found her, heavy brown eyes look into hers. And he knows, he knows and understands the need for her vengeance and that she’s finally got it. Blood has been smeared into the now burning altar, the church in the distance caves into itself from the fire weakening the wooden structure. She barely spots Soap’s worried look, doesn’t even hear him speaking or shouting into the comms.
Her knees buckle and Simon catches her, “I got you. I got you.” He whispers into her ear, beckoning her to listen, to breathe in and out as she hadn’t recognized how quickly she began to breathe. He moves her rifle away and hands it over to Soap so he can pick her up. His large arm moving behind her back and he bends to hook his other under her knees. “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” She doesn’t say anything, fearing that whatever comes out will be a sob or a pained whimper, so she just nods and lets him carry her. Giving into the embrace as she shuts her eyes while lulling her head against his should. The smell of fire, of blood, and wood burning invades her nose even as she turns her head onto his shoulder. Breathing him in as weighty exhaustion takes over.
The ram will never come again for Issac. The snake in the garden will never hurt Eve again. The flames burn and raze the town to the ground. The smoke rises to the sky for anyone still alive to see. Finally, there is peace. Finally, it’s quiet save for the symphony of the dead
