The old city walls in Thornwick glistened with a cold, bluish-black sheen in the dusk. In the gaps between the bricks, traces of rusted arrowheads from a century ago still remained.

As Matthias stepped onto the battlements, the soles of his boots crunched over the frozen blood crust. Fresh blood dripped from the saber on his waist, and each drop froze the instant it touched the ground.

"Get those oil barrels up here now!" he bellowed.

His face was hardened with fury as he commanded, "Gunners, hold your fire until those beasts are within a hundred yards."

Below the city walls, the zombie horde surged like a rising black tide. In the dim twilight, pale gray arms flailed and clawed at the stone.

The front ranks clawed at the walls with bare, worn-down nails. Bits of stone and mortar flaked away and scattered across the ground.

A few of the larger ones were climbing over the bodies piled beneath them. Their rotting feet slipped on the ice, scraping against the stone with a sickening