On the way back, we are silent and somewhat morose, nervous too. It's dark. We are still in the suburbs of Georgia. We are behind schedule. Killer starts to growl and fuss. We hear screams. Melia and I put on our heat vision goggles. We see a dozen or so running figures being chased by a large number of warmer ones. Estimated ten survivors/thirty Zombies.

Melia and I decide to save them at full speed. She locks herself in the cabin and runs towards them. She'll try to knock over as many of the pursuers as possible with the help of the bull bars, so that the humans can have a chance to escape while the zombies are knocked out or eating each other.

I climb into the back and strap myself to the mesh of the speakers on the roof. I don't want to fall with the shaking. I arm my rifle and machine gun. My mission is to shoot the nearest creatures to cover the humans. I have to stop the zombies from getting on the pickup and allow the humans to join me and help them escape.

We turn on the music and the headlights. The pick-up is covered in spotlights. The strategy is simple, effective but very risky. The professor may be in this group. Even if he is not, they are human. We must help each other. Melia accelerates. She passes the first humans without stopping. She heads towards the last ones, towards the group of zombies chasing them. The group of running humans see a fast firefly, blaring deafening music, speeding straight towards the enemy, with a sniper on the roof.

At full speed, Melia avoids the last three humans and continues her run towards the target. She does a zombie strike on those closest to catching the survivors. The zombies fly over the car. Melia reaches the bulk of the group of creatures. She hits them head-on without slowing down. I see them waltzing around the vehicle. I let out a cry of joy bordering on madness. Melia slows down very slightly once she has left the scattered herd. She then skids to turn around without losing too much speed, sending the dust flying.

Melia returns to the survivors, making sure to knock over as many of the creatures as possible. She rolls at full speed, turning and flipping. She knocks down, crushes and lifts off the filthy creatures. Forward, backward. The car seems to be totally insane, as if it is alive and inhabited by a murderous spirit. More than twenty zombies are on the ground, in several pieces or unconscious. The car has hit them and then the vehicle has run over them, sometimes several times. Many creatures stop running to devour their "comrades". Others, in large numbers, arrive in the distance. We have a good distance between them and the last survivors. Melia runs and then stops at the first humans.

I go into action. I shoot at the distant zombies who continue to pursue us and the others too, just in case. My shots are accurate. They hit every time. Each bullet goes through the creatures' heads, even those lying on the ground get their bullets. I shoot relentlessly. I sing at the top of my lungs to the heady music. Wrong and almost screaming. The three closest humans climb as best they can into the back of the pick-up. One is injured, only we don't have time to linger. I tap on the roof to give Melia the signal to leave. I keep firing as she moves forward and picks up the survivors one by one. I yell abuse at the zombies.

— Here, take this in your face.

As soon as something moves, I shoot. I sing and curse. I eject my bullet and withdraw.

— YESSSSSSS Brain explosion

I reload at full speed. I maintain at distance of almost five hundred meters between the car and the new zombies who arrive.

— GO OOOOOOO! Eat him so I can beat you up.

An incredible number of creatures, humanoid or animal, arrive. I shoot without mercy, those on the ground get eaten.

— YESSSSSSSS, that's it. Eat yourself. It will save me some bullets.

Between the loud speakers and my gun, it's a barely bearable din. With a quick shot, I swing some of the spotlights from the roof of the pickup towards the creatures who are screaming in pain.

— It hurts the light, doesn't it, ugly?

I shout with joy at every exploding head. I insult the creatures. I eliminate them shamelessly, without mercy. I even take pleasure in it. You can feel it in my words, in my screams of victory. I like to see them tear each other apart, eliminate themselves, like the monsters they are. Eventually the numbers dwindle. There must have been at least two hundred, including fifty humanoids.

I watch the passengers out of the corner of my eye, keeping an eye on the distant creatures, those out of range, eating the other monsters. None of the passengers seem to have weapons. I can't see their faces with my glasses. At shoulder height, they are men. Melia speeds up and then slows down to pick up each human. At the last one, I question my passengers to make sure they are all there. At a sign from one of them, the music hardly allowing us to speak, I give the signal for Mélia to return. She speeds off to get as far away as possible. She turns off the music. I stand and watch the surroundings, ready to shoot.

— In the black box there is a small torch. Burn your friend's woundf. I know it hurts, unfortunately, it's the only way he won't get infected if he's been bitten. We have twenty minutes after the bite where we have a chance to save him. After that, it's a bullet in the head. If you don't obey, it's a direct bullet.

I am very directive. I don't have time to be formal or take risks. Between my words proving my mental instability and my gun ready and willing to fire, I can't say I'm very reassuring. Melia at the wheel, still singing her syrupy melodies, doesn't help to dispel the potential concerns of our survivors. Killer's wolfish gaze, which I can't see but can easily guess, reinforces our potential terror.

Although crowded and shaken in all directions by Melia's mad driving, the group manages to lay the injured man down. Two hold the upper body and two others the lower. A fifth lights the torch. They obey me without thinking. Good for them. The wounded man screams in pain while the torchman passes over the wound again and again. It smells like a roasted pig. I feel bad for the man but there is no room for sentiment. Eventually he passes out from the pain. When I think the burning is enough, I tell them to stop. There is no point in torturing him either. In the box there is clean water. I invite them all to drink, not taking my eyes off them and watching our backs.

Melia drives at full speed. While scanning the night, I talk to the passengers in order to assess their potential. They have coherent answers. They do not seem aggressive. They are thanking me, including the injured man who has regained consciousness. Their voices are tired. They do not have the language of soldiers. Some have an elaborate vocabulary. Others are simpler.

It is a group that seems to be made up of disparate individuals to the ear. They too are trying to assess my dangerousness. I must admit that I hardly give the impression of being sane. I also have an assault rifle in my hand and I have just shot at least two hundred creatures while screaming like a madwoman. I can feel their fear and that makes me happy. If they are afraid, they are not as dangerous as I am.

Suddenly, a song that I love and that is perfectly appropriate plays in the driver's cabin. ZOMBIES by the Cranberries. I tap on the roof to get Melia to turn up the sound. I tap my foot rhythmically as I improvise a choreography, screaming with the singer and Mélia, while scanning the night with my rifle. Despite my hellish racket, I can hear the men whispering.

My sanity and their safety are the focus of the discussion. The injured man finally shushes them all by telling them that as crazy as the two people are, they have just saved their lives. They were under no obligation to come to the rescue of the group, to take them in at risk. There was no need for the two girls to tell them how to disinfect the wound. I like this one. I hope it doesn't get infected. I don't want to put a bullet between his eyes. Besides, I don't know why his sweet voice reminds me of a happy time.

We're driving through Town at a hundred kilometres an hour. We turn down the volume, I keep humming. Melia stops. Before going to the farmhouse, and despite the injured, we must assess our passengers. We have rescued them at great risk. Let's cut the crap. We are in a car park under a powerful spotlight. The surroundings are empty. After a 360 look, I take off my glasses. I look towards the injured man and his nurses. And there....

Hello my readers Just a little sentence to thanks you. Don't hesitate to comments! :-)