Free By the Blood of Heroes by Joseph Nassise

might be able to avoid them. He took a moment to brush off the dirt and leaves from his uniform, then bent over and checked to be sure the bandage was still wrapped securely around his injured leg. The wound had started bleeding again, and the bandage would need to be changed whenever he stopped for the night.
    He pushed his way back through the hedge only to find himself face-to-face with the strange new shambler that had been searching for him moments before.
    Time seemed to stop as they stared at each other. The shambler was only about ten feet away and Freeman had plenty of time to draw his gun and fire, but he didn’t dare do so as a gunshot was sure to bring the rest of the patrol running. He might be able to handle a single shambler, but a pack of them? Not a chance. Never mind the human troops that accompanied them.
    As Freeman stood rooted to the spot, trying to figure out what to do, the shambler took the decision out of his hands. It sprang at him with an eager dexterity that belied anything he’d previously seen, taking a few short, powerful steps before launching itself toward him, arms extended.
    Freeman reacted without thought, letting the creature’s momentum work against it as he grabbed the front of its tattered uniform and went over backward beneath its weight, heaving it over his head in a well-timed throw.
    Rolling over as he hit the ground, Freeman ended up poised in a crouch over his opponent. He snatched his knife out of his boot and plunged it deep into the shambler’s throat.
    He knew the strike wouldn’t kill it, but right now killing it wasn’t his primary concern. All he wanted to do was ensure that it couldn’t communicate, couldn’t shriek or howl or do whatever it was that shamblers of this sort did to summon others of their kind or its German handlers. Just to be safe he dragged the knife to the side as he pulled it back out, trying to cause as much damage as possible. As soon as his weapon was free, he scuttled out of reach.
    As quickly as it went down, the shambler was back up on its feet, spinning round to face Freeman where he crouched in a fighting stance a few yards away. It opened its mouth, perhaps to scream its defiance, but nothing but a weak hiss came out.
    Unfortunately, the injury did nothing to slow the creature’s attack.
    It came at him again, slashing with a clawed hand in an attempt to disembowel, and Freeman was forced to backpedal furiously, each step eliciting a stab of pain from his injured leg, as he fought to stay upright and out of the creature’s reach.
    He managed to land a few blows with his knife in the process, but they had little effect. The blade simply sank into the shambler’s rotting flesh and came back out again, with no harm done, as far as he could tell.
    You’re in trouble, Jack.
    Damn right he was. This thing was not only faster and stronger, but it had the added advantage of being impervious to pain. He, on the other hand, was hobbling around on an injured leg while exhausted from all the miles he had covered since crawling out of the wreckage of his aircraft.
    The shambler seemed to know it, too. Rather than rush him, as it had done before, it circled about him, darting in to deliver a blow here and there, testing Jack’s defenses. It was all Freeman could do to stay on his feet and fend off each attack, and before long he was bleeding from half a dozen minor wounds on his arms and chest.
    The damn thing seemed to be toying with him, forcing him to expend what little energy he had left, and he had no choice but to follow along. He couldn’t turn and run; he wouldn’t get three steps before it would catch him and bring him down. Getting in close enough to deliver the kind of blow that would put the thing down for good meant he’d have to expose himself to the creature’s attack at the same time.
    They’d been at it for several long minutes when the tide turned against him.
    Scrambling backward to avoid the creature’s latest attack,