Life is a tragedy seen in close,
A comedy in a long shot.
-by Anonymous

Bracing my way closer to the residence, I saw almost everything was burned down. Groaning and slippery noises were heard, my head hinting at acid corroder. Whatever the fuck was that.
Looking around, I tried to scream for Sarah but she didn't reply. A guard came closer, he had his head bandaged, and his right arm in a triangular bandage, and his clothes were soaked in brown, almost hinting a dried blood. Such an amount of my blood went cold. Worried since I haven't heard Sarah reply to my call. 
"Sir. We lost contact with the inner post, but before the zombies rushed in, we had already been told to take everyone into the underground safety for now, sir."
He reported.
"Why are there people still up here instead of down there, comrade?"
Turning around, along the narrow path to the next post, the wooden wall was packed with injured people. Seeing how most of them trying to stay alive was obvious this incident didn't occur a few hours ago. 
"Since when does this happen, sir?"
I tried to approach the bandage guard earlier. Gun shooting fills the air, reminding me what situation we are currently in, the war with the undead waiting for another chance to properly die, where their mind was corrupted or never existed in the first place who only have violence in their way to keep surviving, something I wasn't clearly understand. 
"The night of the Memorial Day. It's our fault, having our guard down, underestimating the opponents."
He uttered regretfully.
"The opponent isn't even a real person in the first place."
I patted behind him, regretting it wasn't important right now, trying to save everyone as possible was what needed to be focused on.
The gate was shut as close as possible, and as far as I could see, the second gate too was shut, probably the only reason I could think of was they tried to reduce the undead to entering and focus on the undead which already inside, however, the dent on both gates wasn't convincing so. 
A few houses were still burning, instead of a house that stood sturdy like how we saw before we left has turned into a few wood that are still burning to the ground. 
The trail of red blood, and a thick chunk of green and creamy pus with some red but more watery and not as red as human blood. 
Then, there are possibly residents getting hurt. A surge of uneasiness slipping into my skin makes my body itch to jump in and save as many as possible. 
"Have you seen Sarah?."
The panicking Dylan who seemed so since this morning walked along the post to the next post and made his way back here where I was analysing the situation. The guard looks down, his face transformed into what you call regret and pain. 
Confused as to why he would react like that, a glimpse of a possible answer crossed my head, the answer I refused to admit. 
"Sarah wanted to grab something, we tried to stop her but we failed, she said she would be in the main house, underground after she fetched something."
The earlier guard informed.
Dylan's face contorts into some horrible expressions, which make you shut your mouth and believe that you made a mistake and regret whatever it is.
"Why do you look like that?."
Dylan's sudden outburst makes a lot of people flinch, I would admit I do too. 
However, as I waited for the guard to answer my chest thumping harder as if it reminded me something terrible did happen. 
"Sam, why?."
I demanded, rather came out harsh to my ear. This situation makes me uncomfortable with this hiding meaning or whatever. 
He looks at me confused. 
Well, your name is visible on your name tag, wasn't my fault. 
The looks he gave only stayed for a second before he turned to Dylan with a serious look. 
"The post in the main house has informed, that they still waiting for Sarah's arrival. That was last night's information."
As if my reflex led me to move, I snatched one of his guns, and quickly jumped down. The pain in my knee made me suddenly realize what I was doing but it was too late to back up, especially since the stairs only led to the outside, not the inside. 
Quickly the zombies sniffed my existence and quickly charged on my way. Giving those creatures a headshot of them, I heard Dylan scream my name.
"Walter, stop! We need a plan, not rushing things!."
For a second, I glance at him. His panic face had disappeared, now covered with fear. 
Reloaded the gun I took another shot to clean my way to the house. As far as I know. The post here is separated by the metal bar for the second base, which is where Dylan, Sarah, and the elderly family live. So there's no other way except to clean these zombies and ask guards on the other side to let us through.
Hoping for the better, I hope Sarah is still well in her house, safe and protected.
"The more we stall, the more uneasy I would be. Let me go check Sarah Dylan."
I yelled back. 
Behind me, a few thud was heard before a gunshot was heard in the air. Looking back, a few guards were on my side, assisted me to clean up, and. A few guards up the post helping from the up there. 
More of them were charging but quickly dissipated in the middle. We make our way after arranging ourselves to each other back in a circle line. 
Thus after thud was heard as we shot. A few meters quickly reached and the horde numbers were reduced, or so I thought. Groaning increased as they stopped a few meters around us as if calculating their next attack. Realizing this, we carefully continued our way, taking even a flinch to be alert of. 
As my eyes darted around, I saw a familiar face in front of me. Snarling, with blood and flesh chunks smearing on his clothes. He lost a big flesh on his shoulder, his clothes shredded to pieces, hanging on his blue pale waist. On his shoulder, there were big mad red veins that emerged, spreading to his neck and covering his whole left arm, half his neck, and his face, that one vein stopped at his eyes, making his eyes bleed, flowing to his face. 
I met him a few times, that little time is worth all my life.
"Mike..."
I softly muttered as he groaned louder. He was a good guy, a blacksmith to every weapon we used. He gave me a lot of teaching while I was prohibited from getting out and hunting by Sarah. His soft innocent smile was gone. His blonde hair, the one I liked to touch and he would call me brother and joke around. I might not spent enough time with him, not yet. I need to spend more time with him. 
I promised him a world, peaceful and no zombies would allow him to come in. I promised him. Just a day before we went out. A world, Mike, a world you couldn't have anymore. 
"Mike..."
I tried to call. 
"Mike, I am back, can you come closer?."
There's no way he left me. There's no way, he was pretending, didn't he? Why can't my mind accept this? Why him?. Why not me?!. I promised him. He needs to be alive before and after, he needs to outlive me!
The anger blinded my mind. Before I realized he dropped down to the floor. And I realized he tried to charge on me, my Mike would never do that. He is the kindest kid I ever knew, he was just sixteen for fuck's sake!.
"Please gather yourself, Walter. You need to come out alive. We promised that to Sarah."
One of the men scolded. 
"He was just a kid. A kid!."
I tried to counter. He is. I never called him brother back, I never told him I would say yes to his proposal to be my brother. I need more time with him!
A slap came to my face. 
"Focus."
Shakingly, I tried to wipe off my pool of tears before it blurred my sight. The slap does make my head clear a little bit.
I have failed him, I can't fail the others.
We continued shooting, in a few, I noticed the green lamp post, the odd lamp post I used to admire, and it was situated in the middle of the first base. Seeing this, I realized we were close to the second base. 
"Faster!."
I yelled. 
Some of them were charging while the others still calculating. Suddenly all of them scurried away. 
Confused, we look around as they screech as if panicking before stomping on the ground is heard. The one that makes you feel the earth vibrating, and you can guess their size already. 
There, a ripper, the size I met before stomping his way on us. 
"Protect Walter."
The one who scolded me yelled before he broke the circle and matched the ripper's speed. 
"What are you doing!. Come back to the ci-
Before I could finish, the guy already froze with his head in another hand of that said ripper. The gun fell to the ground with a quiet thud.
Seizing the machete on my waist from its leather cover, handmade by my brother, Mike. Enraged filled my head, as I charged for the ripper, upon seeing me, the ripper threw the body before roaring as loud as possible. 
Snatching his arm, I jump behind his back, finding my balance on his citrine stone before I stabbed his shoulder. As if a pest, the ripper tried to grab any of me and yeet me away. My deep wound didn't falter his move as he roared again and again, trying to grab and unalive me. 
His skin was rough and obviously inhuman, tight with inhuman string muscles. The machete only went half deeper, couldn't pierce more than that. 
Pulling the machete was like pulling a rope from an unmoving tree. It was harder than normal. My other hand kept slipping from his skin, as I held myself in the machete, pulling it out, I continued stabbing in random places as he tried to charge for another man. 
His move already made it hard for them to shoot, they were just waiting for the opportunity to put the bullet in this dude's head. 
Countless stabbings didn't falter him, worse is, it made the ripper more aggressive. Pulling the machete again, I stabbed his head, but my hand slipped before it reached his head. The machete quickly slices the citrine stone which line from his neck to his bum.
He roared as deeply as possible before his step faltered and wobbled. I don't know who, but one of them yelled for me to release him and back away. As I do so, they shoot once in the head and the ripper finally drops to the ground. 
"Walter!."
The familiar screams make me snap my head to where it's come from, only to see Dylan sprinting his way closer. He was a middle-aged man but ran like he was still in the military in his twenties.
"What are you doing here Dylan? It's fine I'll make sure to send Sarah to you soon. For now, the injured up the posts need to be sent to the Redwood outpost, right?."
He paced as he reached us. Growling and screeching filled the quiet air again. Handing me another gun reload and proceeded to hand them over to other men. 
"Let's go, quickly while they are still far from us."
Dylan instructed as he loaded his gun, and charged for the second base's gate. 
Looking around, the snarling, growling, and all the eyes were wary of us. They were following but stayed a couple of meters from us. I don't understand, but still, they have to be in our sight, so if they decided to attack we could respond to it. 
My heart was thumping so hard, louder than when I was about to get snapped by the ripper and horde of zombies, or when Blythe and I were in a misty jungle with limited perspective since the thick misty covered all the forest.
Somehow, I tried to deny the uneasiness as if my heart telling me something was not good, something happened and we still yet to know. 
And that makes me scared. 
What was it?. 
What makes me feel like my heart throbbing, the clenching in my heart making me suffocated. I want to do something, so I know my thoughts were all wrong. I need to confirm them but who?. To whom do I need to confirm those?
My head flashed for a second to Sarah just before the second base's gate opened, leading us to another horde. The odd was, they all stood, also wary just like the horde behind us. 
All while we walked through the first base, one thing can be confirmed, there are no more survivors here, except those up there on posts and possibly also underground. 
"If there are survivors anywhere in first base, we have cleared the way, please make your way to the posts right now, don't waste any time!."
Dylan yelled along the way. We can't afford to turn a blind eye if there are really any survivors we are not aware of. The guards would know what to do if the survivors reached them. 
It's true, the zombies are still there, a hundred or maybe more, except they were following us to the second base. All of them. 
I look down at the citrine I secretly collected after the ripper fell and died. What was this thing?. Did these zombies respond to this?. 
I went closer, holding the citrine to their face only for them to get away farther, with wobbling and what not a human attitude anymore, they lowered their body, wobbly. I had ignored all the growling as if used to it by now. 
"Walter, what are you doing?. Come!."
Dylan called.