Free The Purple Haze by Gary Richardson

Martin by the shoulder and pulled him along with him. They moved as quickly as they could. They got to the police cars at the front of the bank and went to climb over them. As he went to hop up onto the bonnet, Martin felt something grab his leg. He looked down and could make out in the blue light a corpse had hold of his leg, teeth bared and going in to bite his leg. He acted quickly, kicking back with his other leg and hitting the thing in the side of the head with his heel. The impact had enough force to cause the creature to let go and it fell back to the floor. It went to get up again but Martin pressed both barrels of his gun against its head and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked in his hand and the head of the corpse was obliterated across the floor behind it. Martin didn't bother to linger on the sight and he pulled himself up and over the car bonnet and followed the light of James’ torch.
    The two men arrived at the bank at the same time. They pounded on the glass and were greeted by the face of Mike. He opened the bolt and let them in. As he went through the door, James looked back to see a mass of moving bodies coming through the fog. He got himself inside, pulling Martin along with him, and Mike slammed the door and locked it behind them. The figures kept coming. They reached the glass of the bank and bumped straight into it. Martin watched as they stood out there, clawing at the glass. More and more came, and as they did it became more apparent to James that leaving the bank may never be a possibility. The group stood, gripped by the fear caused by the spectacle of the crowd of things trying to get into the bank to get them. There were too many of them to count in the light available to them, just a mass of putrid, diseased faces, squashed up against the glass by the ones behind while their hands clawed at the glass in futility.
    It was Dave who broke the silence in the bank. “What the hell are we going to do now?” he said, sounding like he could break down and cry in panic.
    “ They can't get through the windows,” James replied, “This is polycarbonate clad glass, it'd easily hold up against a twelve gauge shotgun blast.”
    The group stood there again in silence, their fears slightly eased by James' information. They couldn't take their eyes away though, and the faces against the windows were now becoming more and more mutilated as the force of the massing crowd behind them pressed them against the window. At first they were smearing a mix of puss and blood from the open wounds on their faces across the glass, but as the crowd built up in size, the concentration became more blood, and then bits of bone started to pop through their face. Eventually the heads began popping like zits, and were completely crushed against the windows under the sheer mass of weight from all the individuals surging forward trying to get at the survivors inside the bank. The sight of this made Colin wretch, and Yvonne and Gaz had to look away from the sight and the sound, not too dissimilar of fingernails dragging down a blackboard, of the jagged edges of their skulls scraping on the glass made the whole experience even less pleasant than it already was.
    “ How many of them are out there?” Craig asked.
    “ No idea,” answered Mike, “but I was handling crowd control out there and I could swear the whole town was watching.”
    They continued watching for another minute or so, and then James spoke to the group. “Okay, we need to get out of this area. The fact they can see us is just going to keep them there. Yvonne, can we get upstairs here?”
    “ Yes, it’s through the door at the back of the service windows,” she said, “There are some stairs through a doorway there.”
    “ Right, let's move up there. They can't get in through here. Let me go and check the back door first.”
    “ Why do you need to check that?” Craig asked.
    “ Because when me and Mike came in, we didn't lock it. Get everyone onto the