We roll out, several hundred soldiers, Klanners and Angels, with a few civilians added to the mix for good effect.
Ciara remains behind with the twins to keep the home fires burning. Cian and Awnya are mad as hell that they’re missing out on the action. They glare after us as we stream through the open gates. Dr. Oystein stops to say something to them and they don’t look quite so unhappy when he moves on. He must have told them they were doing an important job here, something like that. The doc is great at finding the right words to calm a person down. The best I’ve ever met.
We march through the streets as quietly as we can, Whitechapel Station our destination. A lot of zombies spot us as we pass and come roaring out to feast on the fresh brains of the living, lured from their shelters, despite the rays of the sun. Our troops deal with them casually, the Angels tackling and dispatching most of the assailants, the soldiers finishing off the few who slip through their undead, protective net.