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       "Hope you guys are having fun," Kaci shouted, coming to a halt at Harrison's side.

       Hewitt and Peter were close behind her, only pausing to dodge around more of the creatures as they fed on the fallen. Peter went straight to Megan and held her in his arms. Hewitt took on a defensive stance, the knife held in readiness for attack.

       "We've got to call for help," Harrison stated blankly, setting off in the direction of the tent being used as HQ.

       Chappell felt as if he was in a dream, his mind at one with the Slavis as they fed and added to their ranks. For every fallen human soul a new Slavis would leave the pit and take its place in the world of the living. Chappell experienced each new birth simultaneously, feeling the pain as the Slavis twisted the deceased body to fit its own image. The feeling was almost akin to that of being a God, omnipotent and all powerful, living the moment from a thousand different angles and seeing the world through twice as many eyes.

       Chappell savoured the taste and aroma of freshly spilt blood, the coppery fluid seemingly filling his mouth and sliding down his throat with refreshing ease. As the Slavis drank from the font of life he shared the experience ten fold, drinking from each and every victim. As he fed through the Slavis he was deafened by the multitude of screams, a melody of pain and suffering that was music to his ears.

       The Chappell of old was no more.

       He was now part of a puzzle that had taken centuries to piece together and soon would be complete. His benefactors would arrive shortly and they would know what needed to be done. Once the Slavis had fed upon them their knowledge would be his and he could complete the ritual and be in the seat of power that he deserved. All he had to do was wait and watch his children grow.

       Chappell felt the death of one of the Slavis, a searing pain that burned behind his eyelids and seared into his brain. He feared he would lose the connection, but instead it intensified, throwing his thoughts into the mind of his dying brethren and allowing him to see...

       "You," Chappell sighed.

       He recognised the human from his previous life and he instantly sensed their importance to the puzzle. This stranger to the Slavis was the final piece he had sought after for so long. He didn't understand how he knew this but he'd never been more confident of anything. The human needed to be brought to the church.

       Without warning Chappell was torn away, his vision thrown into the mind of another of the Slavis. Before he could settle he was moving again and confronted with more of the annoying humans. They all insisted on fighting back and they were all linked to the one he required.

       They were like he had once been, filled with compassion, hope and all that made them human. All that made them weak. Soon they would join him and be part of the Slavis. By doing so they would be saved from the very things that made them the lesser species. They would be made strong.

       Chappell bit back on the pain of further deaths, swallowing the sensation of razor blades being slid across his eyelids and concentrated. He breathed deeply and wished out a message to the Slavis. He could only hope that the link between them went both ways.

       Chappell's face contorted as he screamed out to the Slavis, his features a tapestry of furrows and bloodied inscriptions.

       "Br
ing them to me,"
he ordered.

       Harrison led the way, now armed with a shovel. Kaci kept pace at his side, brandishing a similar tool. Her eyes constantly darted from left to right, alert to any new attack. Peter and Megan followed close behind whilst Hewitt guarded the rear, walking steadily backwards with the knife swaying in front of her.

       The creatures had stopped attacking, appearing happy to gorge themselves on the flesh of their kills. They didn't even look up as the small group weaved a path through them towards the largest of the tents.

       Megan watched the creatures closely and saw a worrying pattern. As they finished feeding they would move on, leaving the gutted carcasses to reanimate. The hollow corpses would begin to twitch, the torsos pulsating as they took on new forms.

       Megan witnessed more and more of the dead changing, limbs twisting to become something inhuman. Eventually they would raise; standing and joining the others in the frenzy of feeding on the human banquet. Even the corpses that had been mangled beyond recognition started to come back, the worst of them walking hunched over or on all fours like a dog.

Dozens were missing arms and legs, some nothing more than torsos that were forced to wriggle along the ground like bloated maggots. But they all had one thing in common. Their eyes… Or, to be exact, the lack of eyes.

       By the time Harrison pulled open the flap like doorway to the tent the creatures had doubled in numbers. Megan stepped into the tent, unnerved by the way their progress was now being ignored. Something was wrong.

       Harrison allowed the others to enter first, dropping the door shut behind them. The air inside the tent was stale, tinged with the aroma of sweat and old coffee.

       "So, Harrison." A twisted version of Burke stepped into view. "Have you come to any conclusions?"

       Harrison didn't wait for it to attack. He crossed the short distance in three long strides and swung the shovel. The slicing blow severed the head from Burke's shoulders. The head yelped once and then fell silent, the body staggering from left to right as black, excrement thick, pulp flowed like a clogged fountain from the neck wound.

       "I never liked that bastard." Harrison kicked the body and it toppled backwards.

       "OK, you wanted to come here," said Hewitt, stepping into the centre of the makeshift room. "Care to tell us why?"

       "We need to call for help," Harrison explained impatiently. "There has to be a radio in here somewhere."

"Radio?" Peter asked. "Why didn't you say." He put a hand in his pocket. "Use thi..." Peter didn't finish the sentence, the sight of the smashed mobile phone silencing him.

       "Anyone else?" Harrison asked.

       "Mine's back at the truck," Hewitt replied.

       "Can't stand the things," added Megan.

       Harrison turned to Kaci and she only shrugged. "No need for mobile phones when I'm airborne."

       "Then we better start looking for the radio," Harrison snapped and began searching the tables.

       The others spread out and began doing the same, throwing files and maps to one side in their eagerness.

       "This what you're looking for?" Megan asked, holding up the shattered plastic shell.

       "Bollocks." Harrison took the radio from her and threw it across the room. "That leaves only one option," he sighed.

       "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?" Peter moaned.

       "Because you're not," Harrison replied with a flat grin and turned to Kaci. "There's a radio on the chopper?"

       "Of course there is." She nodded.

       "Then that's where we're going." Harrison walked to the opening of the tent and pulled it back.

The creatures were still feeding, but they seemed to have calmed down, no longer tearing at the bodies with wild abandon. It was as if their initial hunger had been quenched.