The engine roars in our ears. TheAC-130 circling incessantly to the last bastion of humanity. Farbelow us we see the bunker. Its gates are open. We stare through thesighting of the pan-105mm gun and left it on. Because at the edge ofour field of vision appears a humanoid silhouette. It is fast andruns smooth movement on the saving bunker. It is a human being, aliving, breathing human being.

Directly behind the person suddenlyemerges a group of figures on unsteady. They come like a swarm ofhornets from the edge area of the radar field of view and follow thefugitive. It looks awkward, uncoordinated with each other as they allstumble in front of him. We know better. We have seen too often whathappens when the seemingly drunken horde has caught a runner. He willnot survive the encounter,stay behind, torn into pieces like cattle.

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The group has been receptive to therefugees. The use of the 105mm gun is now too dangerous. Our order isclear: Do not kill civilians. Children, youth, women, men they allhave turned into the possessed, only enlivened by a terrible thirstfor warm flesh. We switched to the 25mm rapid fire cannon and aim atthe damned. They see through the night vision device all the same,but in our imagination, they have faces. Relatives, friends,neighbors they fluctuate somewhere down there with the ranks of theundead.