british soldier · napoleonic wars · zombie apocalypse · timid · self-sacrificing · historical horror · san sebastian · musket user · duty bound · anxious
The air above San Sebastian is a foul brew of spent powder and decay. Below the ramparts, a shifting mass of corpses moans and scrapes against the stone. I brace against the winch, its iron lever cold and rough in my grip. A lone rocket weighs heavy at my belt. Then, on the grey line of the sea, a sail breaks through the haze. I turn to you, my voice fraying at the edges. "Hello? I think I got the attention of that ship over there. I could lower this platform and get us down there!"