Dost Thou Mock Me?

Gordy prayed fervently. He hadn't looked for it since he was a kid, but now that he was rooted in the muddy, squishy ground and his platoon's rifles were fixed on the pitch-black night, it seemed essential. He needed to believe in anything.

Gordy whispered, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want." Standing next to him were Delany, Hamm, McDouglas, Weirton, and Garcias—comrades he had known for many years who were suddenly thrown into this primordial conflict between good and evil and were unlikely to return.

They shut the lines. There was no way out.

"He leads me beside the calm waters and makes me lie down in green pastures."

Every physically fit male in the armory, ranging in age from sixteen to sixty, held the line beyond the trench. Some carried merely knives or pikes, while the majority held outdated rifles. Their faces were marked with fear, ready to run at the first sign of trouble. "I'll shoot deserters," Major Hamm had promised.

"My soul is restored by him."

"Fix the bayonets," Hamm ordered. alongside their sights set on the ruined grass, those alongside them snapped blades onto gun barrels. "They'll have a shield and sword."

Are you making fun of me for bringing sticks and stones? Gordy heard a voice in his head. If you don't turn around, I'll kill you and feed your flesh to animals and birds. His mind retorted, perhaps in response, "Yeah, so everyone will know that there is a God in Israel."

For the sake of his name, he guides me along the straight and narrow. Yes, I will not be afraid of evil even if I pass through the valley of the shadow of death.

Hamm was prepared to die. Bandoliers of ammo were draped around his neck and shoulders, and his face was splattered black. He had provided tomahawks and long knives in case the ammunition ran out.

Tobey looked out over the field at his deadly, armored zombies, armed with rifles, swords, spears, and swinging maces. He was flanked by Kesslers' band, which was strengthened by New York reinforcements. Variant Cs placed war paint coolly under their eyes, while Variant Bs gnawed their teeth in savage rage. As night fell and light faded, a full moon rose.

"Because you are with me."

Hamm encouraged his guys by pacing them. "We won't fail if you put your courage in the sticking-place," he said.

"Your staff and rod give me comfort."

"Defend your spouses and kids! For all the young boys and girls within! Hamm roared. Zombie voices rose in mocking, frantic fear hundreds of yards away.

"In front of my adversaries, you set a table for me." My cup is spilling over as you anoint my head with oil.

"Please don't make me feel embarrassed," Hamm muttered. Make my hand your arrow and guide it. Deliver me from Egypt, O Lord, and use your power to defeat these demons. Allow me to be your tool and servant, smiting the evildoers who attack me. Give me victory even though they burn my flesh and break my bones so they can see that Israel has a God.

Gordy said out loud, "I will live forever in the house of the Lord, and goodness and mercy will undoubtedly follow me throughout my life." "They're on their way."

Tobey commanded, "Send them forward." "I'll go with my soldiers. Robson?

The Variant Bs were forced into combat by Variant C platoons. The subhuman throng swept through the streets with savage cries.

"The adversary!" Hamm let out a shout. "Let's fire!"

The Variant B front lines were mowed down by thundering machine guns. Blindly, they charged, bodies piled high, ripped apart by SAW explosions. They threw themselves at the armory's fortifications from all sides, mostly without weapons.

"Take them out!" Unloading his 9mm Glock into the fray, Hamm roared. "Take out all the zombies!"

Each mindless zombie was a limb of a monstrous whole, and the Variant Bs battled as a single thing rather than as individuals. It attempted to penetrate the armory's weak spots but was repulsed by mortars and gunfire.

Soldiers pumped belts into powerful machine guns from the roof, cutting swaths across the Variant Bs with unrelenting sprays. Gordy continued to fire steadily, stopping occasionally to throw grenades.

The goal of the Variant B attack was to deplete the garrison's ammunition and strength, not to breach it. Amid the excitement of the conflict, Hamm's fear increased as mortars and bullets decreased.

"Save your rounds, but don't let them get past!" Through a megaphone, he yelled. "Select your target—each zombie gets one shot!"

The Variant Bs crashed like waves on stone, and Tobey and Kesslers stared. Armoured Variant Cs hunkered behind suburban hedges, bayoneted weapons and spears ready. Variant Bs advanced, their bodies piling up five and six deep along the line as American fire slackened.

"Arrange the C brigades?" Kesslers inquired.

"We have to time it perfectly," Tobey said. "Allow them to shoot the Bs." I'll join the battle myself. He held a.22-caliber handgun in one hand and a sword in the other.

"As will I," Kesslers remarked sharply while waving a chain with spikes. "Allow me to murder and consume their commander."

In certain places, Variant Bs crossed the line, and Americans found it difficult to contain them. Knives and bayonets fought with heedless enemies as friendly fire blazed in the confusion. Gordy finished it with a headshot after smashing his rifle butt into the abdomen of a zombie that was leaping. Ignorant of their own life, the Variant Bs ripped into their prey.

Gordy had a glimpse of their ranks—physicians, old women, young men, well-dressed businesspeople, even kids—all unique but bound together by the disease that ties them to the zombie cause.

Tobey gave the order, "Send in the Variant Cs." "Come on, Robson. By daybreak, we will capture the armory.

"Go ahead!" Kesslers screamed, his blade flying. Smaller targets for the gunfire slicing from rooftops and trenches, the Variant Cs arose and marched forward in a low, quick march.

The fortifications were peppered with gunfire from people wearing black armor, several of whom were wearing WWII guns and helmets.

"The bayonets are out!" The Variant Cs roared as they met the Americans, and Hamm shouted as they swept forward in a metallic tide. "Shatter them!"

Blades pierced, rifles swung—shrewd Variant Cs mocked in understandable tongues in the midst of ruthless combat.

"You've passed away! We'll murder everyone within!

"Your god has passed away! Give up—let's feast!

With lethal skill, Hamm used a scavenged blade to fire his pistol. It had killed numerous Tobeyans and Kesslers' men and was covered in dark, strange blood.

Kesslers roared into battle as he leaped into the trench. He killed defenders, including Delany, as his spiked chain tore through a squad, tearing chests and guts. Part of the attack was repelled by Gordy and Weirton, but Kesslers persisted unrelentingly.