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" Fuck this! I'm leaving, who's coming with me?" O'Bannon said to the group of survivors. " We must hang on, help will be here soon." Said Harry to the others trying to calm the situation, but they didn't seem to be listening. " O'Bannon's right." Commented one of the others. " We'll get ourselves killed waiting around for some dipshit you talked to on the short wave. Hell if he was coming he would have been here by now. I say we find our own way off the island." Most of the group agreed with the idea. They all started grabbing their few belongings and headed towards the door. " Please don't" pleaded Harry " You'll get killed out there, think about what you're doing." None of them would listen. All, but three others left. In front of the building on 42^nd street were several dozen zombies waiting. The group of survivors ran from the building, trying to push past the creatures. Four zombies were able to grab and bit one fleeing survivors with two suitcases. They tore a chunk out of his throat and pulled him down onto the pavement. The undead ripped flesh from his arms and legs as he screamed. Two of the survivors turned to help the fallen man, O'Bannon told them it was too late. The group ran down the street, with the screams of their dying friend in their ears.

Simon had found a gas station near the docks with a street guide. He had a long way to go before he reached the survivors. There were large numbers of bodies around; it appeared that most of the undead had just simply dropped over. Something they were not inclined to do. There still some zombies here, but in small number that could be easily avoided. " Who destroyed so many of these things and how did they do it." Simon wondered as he made his way to the survivors. He noticed some casing from a bomb that was scattered a long some of the streets. " Fuel air explosive" Simon said to himself.

He knew during World War Two that when flamethrowers were used against Japanese soldiers most of didn't die from burning. Some suffocated when the oxygen consumed by the flame in a confined space. But other died with out external reason. It was a thing called brain insult. The senses would be over whelmed by something of great primal terror and the brain would shut down. It made sense, zombies were only afraid of fire.

Most of the car still on the island were burning, wreaked or just pieces. Simon didn't see any one he could use. The couple he did find had no gas left in them. When he neared West 34^th street, Simon heard the sound of running feet coming towards him. He slipped into a small alley way between two apartment buildings and ducked down behind a dumpster.

A group of people was coming down the street, running as fast as they could. Before Simon could even react, a jeep with men in black uniforms came roaring down the street firing an M-60. Several runners were hit and fell. The rest cut down a side street, with the jeep right behind them.

Before Simon could come out from behind the dumpster to see if the people were still alive, an armored car pull up in the middle of the street. Three men got out from the back, one from the driver's side door. The driver started giving orders to the others.

" Drag those sorry pieces of shit to middle of the street." Simon could hear them moan as they were moved. One the men returned to the armored car and returned with a flamethrower. " Should we shot them first?" asked one of the men. " Fuck'em" was the driver's response. The man with the flamethrower aimed the weapon at the pile of groaning people. Simon fired at him with his AR-7, striking him in the neck before he could pull the trigger. " Sniper!!!" yelled the driver as he and the others dropped to the ground. The driver tried to get back in the armored car, but Simon fired one round. Hitting the driver in the left temple. He fell backwards onto the pavement. The two remaining men drew their side arms. One of them spotted Simon by chance " There he is!!!" He said pointing down the alley. Both of them leveled their guns at Simon, who fired first. One of them he hit just under the left eye. Two rounds from the remaining man in black's pistol whizzed by his head as Simon fired once more. Hitting the man in the throat.

Simon left the alley and went over to check the wounded victims. Simon's efforts were for nothing they were all dead. He stripped the men in black of their weapons and equipment. With two short burst of the flamethrower, Simon burned all the bodies before they could rise again. He put every thing in the back of armored car and took off.

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