Those riding in the back of the vehicles could hear the moans and hiss of the undead following behind the convoy. Shuffling steps and the occasional fingers reaching over the gate were enough to show how large the horde was. It showed up no sooner than they had left the once reassuring safety of Spire Island and seemed to go on forever, covering the road between them and home. As night fell the soldier at the end pushed back the covering and looked out to see the road covered in zed.

“They’re...they’re glowing!”

“You mean like glowboys? That’s what those clinks deserve.”

“No...no the glow is coming from their chest - it’s red but it’s...it’s not right.”

The rest took turns and looked out on the odd sight, muttering about what it might mean. Finally the Lieutenant, from a family in favor with the Clintons, sneered and took a look for himself. “You idiots - you missed the most important part.” The soldiers looked up at their leader and nervously gripped their weapons. 

“They’re following us. All of them.”


It took time for the news to trickle back about why the vehicles had stopped - but in that time the front of the horde reached the back of the convoy and the rearguard was not happy about it.

A half hour later they got the news that the road ahead had been destroyed and the convoy was continuing on-foot to a nearby cove to board the Leviathan’s Ships and continue by sea.

An hour later the screams of the rearguard were drowned out by the sound of the horde. A shuffling cacophony interspersed by occasional thuds and a constant low moaning of hundreds of voices rising and falling as they followed behind, a slow but ceaseless pursuit.


Scouts came back, the engines of their Iron Horses sputtering along on the last of their Texas Tea allotments, and reported that their rendezvous with the Leviathan’s Ships wouldn’t work. They’d been destroyed by artillery fire coming from further out in the Bay. Ward and his people were making their way across land to join the remaining troops of Spire Island instead.


A week or so later the hungry, tired, and angry forces of Spire Island descended on the small settlement of Rosewood, tucked in-between two branches of a river, and destroyed the inhabitants, taking their supplies for their own and fortifying themselves a position nearby for the upcoming conflict with Crystal Creek.