After grabbed a chair and setting it in the far corner of the bedroom, Max went to work on the ceiling with his sword. Once again, plaster and insulation rained down on him, but these barely registered over the moaning of the undead and the cracking of the splintering door.

The men that held him, proved their ignorance by opening fire on the door. These men are more than just evil, Max thought to himself as he continued to chop away at the ceiling that separated him from the attic. These dumbasses are doing more damage to the door then firing blindly into that mob.

“I’m almost through,” he yelled, even if it wasn’t completely true. “Bring the girl over here.”

Since Denny was the only one of the men without a firearm, he dragged the barely covered girl over to where Max worked. Even though he had just complied with Max’s request, he yelled, “You’re in no position to boss me around, boy.”

“Oh yeah,” Max called back and he tore insulation away by the handfuls. “Well, here’s another order for you, grab a damn weapon, you nutjob.”

Denny did what he was asked, without complaint, this time. Max had hoped that this might have given him a chance to rescue the girl before he got back, but the hole was still too small. He had hit a beam and was forced to keep digging around it.

He did have time to ask, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Jill. Thanks for saving me.”

“I haven’t saved you yet,” he grumbled, as a huge piece of dry wall toppled to the floor. Max had wanted to say more, but Denny had already returned with a broken floor lamp.

“Hurry up you piece of shit. You’re going to cost us all our lives!”

“Like this is my fault?” Max started to say, but then Randy let out a scared cry.

The rifleman yelled, “I hope that thing’s open. They’re breaking through!”

Not waiting to see if the hole was big enough, Max leapt up and grabbed the exposed beam. Denny clawed at him, while a string of curses escaped his lips, but Max proved faster and shimmed up through the hole.

Once in the dark attic, he called down. “Give me the girl.”

“Screw that,” Denny yelled. “I’m next. Hold them off boys.”

If he wanted any hope of saving Jill, Max didn’t have much choice but to help the big man through the opening. Denny huge bulk opened the hole wider, but he reached the attic just as Randy began to scream horribly.

“Holy hell,” the man with the rifle yelled and Max could see that the zombies swarmed below.

“Jill, come on!” he called down to her.

She climbed the chair and leapt up toward him. He grabbed her arms, but below other hands grasped her as well. Her eyes met his for a moment—wide and panicked. Then she was pulled away. Her screams quickly replaced Randy’s, whose could no longer be heard.

Max fell back onto the floorboards, stunned. “I failed you. I’m sorry.”

A pair of hands appeared on the beam, and Max thought the worst for a moment, until he realized they belonged to the rifleman. “Help me.” The man repeated like a mantra until his words were replaced with more screams and horde dragged him back into their snapping mouths.

Worried that the chair might help the undead gain their position, Max hazarded a look below. The chair had luckily been knocked on its side and all he would see was a sea of cold hands reaching up toward him. He shivered and retreated back into the darkness.

“So what now genius?” Denny asked.

Max’s words fell like hard steel. “We cut our way to the roof.”

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