They were coming towards him. They weren't the infected ones. They moved from cover to cover, keeping their weapons trained just long enough to make sure the path was clear. But it wasn't. It was a hive of those things just waiting to be awakened. Here the living came to die. Who was that? Is old Wilde putting on a show? The man chuckled. He was the master here and commanded these people to LIVE. More giggles. He pulled back the bolt on his rifle. Then he approached his hiding place, took the flare gun and fired. Let's go back to his rifle. It was a thing of beauty, a Macmillan TAC-338 sniper rifle that he had taken from a Walker with a Trident on his arm. He spotted the human leader, confused. The Leader had stopped in the middle of the road and was screaming. This idiot was yelling at his group. The infected jumped out of their hiding places and tore the man to pieces, literally a bloody limb. A man previously named Jamie watched in fascination. He could have helped, he should have, but he didn't. He blinked and saw his family over there. That was all it took for him to start pumping shots into the Dead. Tears streamed down his face as he fired, stunned as his family died again. His daughter, his wife, God even his father. They were all over there and he was here. That night he went to bed to the sound of dogs fighting over the garbage in his