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Zombies!" you hear Mindy yell, as she peers from the catwalk to the grounds outside the Cathedral walls.

A low rumble can be felt through the solid stone floors, like an earthquake building. With the trembling comes a slow, agonizing wail—a chorus of the living dead in the same horrendous tone, like a steady siren. You rush up the catwalk and look through a cleared-out window. A sea of zombies undulate over the grassy hills below and trot over the road. They move east-to-west, filling up the countryside as if water spreading through an uneven container, taking up any space unoccupied, pushed by the force of what moves behind. The scene resembles some immense, outdoor concert where people crowd every square inch of land. The large mass of living dead seems uninterested in the Cathedral but wanders past the area, unaware of its human occupants, though several smaller groups meander toward the outer doors, arms down, heads bobbling.