Read The Zombie Saga (Book 3): Burn The Dead: Riot for Free Online

emergency door. One man beats his fists against it; another shoulder barges it.
    What the hell are they waiting for? Open the bloody door!
    The turnstile entrances are also sealed off, now covered by huge steel shutters.
    Were they closed earlier? I can’t remember.
    The human current takes us deep down into the middle of the bodies. I see men and women crushed by one another, children being held up by their fathers, others lying on the floor, trampled, battling to stand. I want to help, but I can’t move, my bleeding face squashed against the man in front, blood staining his Swansea jersey.
    The concourse continues to fill to breaking point. I can’t breathe. I start to freak out, the claustrophobia consuming me.
    I need to get out of here! Fucking move!
    “Open the bloody doors!” a man yells from the left of me, his voice muffled by the screams of panic.
    “They’re locked!” another man shouts back, struggling to speak through the weight of bodies. “We’re trapped!”
    No, we can’t be. I saw it open. I watched all those people leave the stadium. It must be jammed. “Push harder!” I shout, wiping my bleeding nose with my wrist.
    “It’s not budging!” a faint voice shouts back.
    I hear a loud cry a few metres to the left of me. It’s a woman.
    Then another.
    And a loud snarl, almost animal-like.
    What the fuck was that?
    A massive commotion breaks out behind Jonny. Then a second to the left of me, near the souvenir stall.
    A fight?
    “ She’s infected! ” a man screeches in the distance. “ Mooooooove! ”
    Infected? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?
    But when I hear the word Nec being bellowed, along with another shrill growl, I start to frantically worm my way through the crowd, away from the fire exit, towards the food counter.
    “She’s a fucking zombie!” Jonny cries, elbowing his way behind me, taking with him Ginge and Nathan. “Run!”
    A sudden eruption of movement surges in all directions. The man in front of me falls to the ground, pulling a woman with him.
    A space.
    I don’t consider helping them. There’s no time. All I care about is moving away from the anarchy.
    Away from the Nec.
    With no room to run, all we can do is barge our way through the crowd. We come to another emergency door and a turnstile entrance. Both are sealed off.
    What the fuck is going on?
    At the top of another set of steps, leading out to the stand, a gathering of people have collapsed—a heap of bodies squirming to get up.
    Oh shit! What the hell is that?
    There’s a man, crawling over the pileup, his mouth oozing with blood.
    It’s a fucking Nec!
    The crowd in front sees him and tries to disperse, leaving just enough space for us to run.
    “There’s another one,” I hear Nathan shout from behind. “We’re fucked!”
    “Keep moving!” Jonny cries. “Don’t look at them!”
    With me leading the way, we follow a tsunami of running fans, heading towards the Cardiff border.
    Suddenly I stop dead, causing Ginge to slam into the back of me, nearly knocking me off my feet. A few metres away, the entire section from the stairs to the locked exit is bursting with bodies; a wall of people, lying on the ground, their innards being torn out and eaten by infected Cardiff fans.
    This is some sick joke, right? This is just a wind up on a massive scale. It’s got to be.
    But when a legion of Necs sees us, their jaws dripping with flesh and blood, I know, without a shadow of doubt, that this is very real.
    And we’re all completely screwed!
     

8
     
    The bulk of people are behind us, absolutely no room to flee. With no choice, I bolt towards the army of Necs, aiming for a small gap to the left. I glance back and see Ginge and the others still following. One of the Necs—a huge chunk of his face missing—has someone pinned to the floor. I whiz past him, nearly tripping over the feet of a dead woman. My brain doesn’t fully register the devastation all around me; it’s too shocking to absorb. All I