The lamp wouldn't turn on.

Goddamn electricity company, Rob grumbled to himself, angrily flicked the switch a few more times just to make sure. This was the third power cut they had had this week, and it wasn't exactly the warmest of months to be sitting in a house at night. And without light flooding the streets and houses, the chance of an attack increased by about a thousand percent.

Night was falling, most people were already in their houses, door and windows securely bolted and nailed shut, wooden shutters and planks covering every possible entrance. Rob shut his own front door, a heavy mahogany beast that was a bastard to open and close but was fantastic against the mutated muscles of the zombies.

It had begun a few years ago, people going missing, people turning up horribly eaten and mutilated. People thought it was werewolves, straight out of the old fables, but it was worse. Zombies, straight out of a horror film.

Light was their only weapon against these things, the night was their home and judging by the more frequent power cuts, they were getting more intelligent by the day.

Rob sat in his chair, with his shotgun resting by the side, and waited for another night to be over. He could hear the dull footsteps outside