Zhenlan woke up choking on blood.
For one violent second, all he could hear was the screams of his people being ripped apart by the zombie horde.
The compound walls collapsing.
Gunfire.
The wet tearing sounds of flesh being ripped apart while people begged for help over radios that nobody answered anymore.
Then came the shriek.
High pitched.
Inhuman.
The Banshee.
Half the men defending the walls had died from the scream alone. The other half had been torn apart afterward when the Devourer smashed through the eastern barricade with enough force to bring half the compound down behind it.
Then the horde came in.
Thousands of infected.
Too many to count.
Far too many to kill.
He still remembered Chenghai standing beside him on top of the inner wall while blood poured down one side of his face. The scar over Chenghai's left eye had split back open sometime during the fighting, but the other man never even seemed to notice.
"North tower is gone."
