Are you serious?

The undead horde fills the streets between the valleys created by the skyscrapers leaving little space for any movement. It looks like a crowd at a concert, gently swaying and moving together in a chaotic sea of flesh. The sunlight makes the crowd appear to glow. Their waxy skin is bloated and cracking with dark fluids slowly being pushed out of their skin and wounds due to the pressure of the gasses that built up in their putrefied bodies. All at once this apocalyptic yet almost peaceful looking scene is shattered.
Propane tanks, 3 of them, tied together with flares attached to the sides and top smashes out of a fourth story window clanking and banging until it settles near the middle of the street. The crowd turns toward the sound of breaking glass and a sound that makes their rotting bodies almost quiver… the sounds of people screaming, a lot of them. “Come and get it you walking maggot farms!” “Dinner time!” and other various taunts are yelled out the windows drawing more of the ghoulish figures toward the barricaded building. “I hope he knows what he’s doing”. A man whose face was covered with stubble and deep hollow eyes looks over to his newly made friend then his glare finds its way to the horde now gathering at the base of the building that they have been hiding in for what felt like an eternity “I know what I’m gonna do…. whatever I have to do to survive…. every single step of the way.”
“Let’s do this shit!” a large black man yells from the first floor, Benny J looks around at the people in the lobby with him “Alright people this is our one chance, remember to fight and move, don’t let one another down, we CAN ALL MAKE IT!!!”. Cliff wipes the sweat from his brow and aims his rifle at the flares surrounded by a wall of flesh “I know this is going to take more than one shot, too many flesh bags in the way.” he lines up his shot and takes one “Fuck!” the rifle finds its way to back his shoulder again and spits out another round, then another until Cliff hears the satisfying hiss for a fraction of a second then the even more pleasurable explosion. Shrapnel of metal, rock and bone tear through the dilapidated flesh of the masses. It is impossible to express the pure hellish carnage that the explosion wrought on the bodies littering the streets.
What transpired after the initial explosion was something that no matter how many times a person saw it could never be anything but shocking. One man had a femur sticking out of his midsection with his entrails forced out of an open wound wrapped on the foreign bone that now filled his stomach. You can almost smell the fresh bile and feculent waste seeping through his designer shirt and onto his designer pants. He was quite lacking in style now. The right back side of his expensive business suit was burned and torn to shreds from the concussion and the flames that came from the propane, exposing his charred and blistered skin that was burnt to a black crisp in certain spots. The man crawls forward onto one knee placing his bloated hand to brace him as he stands. His right leg lifts up under some unnatural power and as he places it to the ground the skin slides off of his exposed broken foot causing him to slip, almost like on a banana peel. The fat from his ass spurts out from between what’s left of his pants and the street. Unwavering in determination this rotten shell of a man crawls toward the sound of people yelling to one another, he is not intimidated by the sound of gun shots. The flesh and blood of the living, they must have it.
A group of 8 men pour from the building with Benny right behind him, flanked by a sinister looking Italian Pietro and a Lexy who was a large Puerto Rican woman, the kind with a hint of a mustache and eyes that could terrify most any man. The first wave use shotguns and rifles to clear the road heading east towards the Delaware River. Benny and his generals kept the western front safe, clearing the remnants of human beings that are shambling towards them from the west. Lexy pulls a grenade from her vest and rolls a grenade under a Septa bus. The bus flips over and lands on its roof and a group of zombies pinning them under the flaming people mover. She couldn’t have placed the grenade in a better spot, it may have been on purpose or it may have been pure luck, regardless the grenade caused the bus to land in a way so it was kissing a Tahoe effectively blocking more than half of the street. “We bought some time but tell those people inside to get moving!” Benny yells into the lobby. Cliff and 4 other men come out of the building loaded with supplies and weapons. They move as a unit into position between the front and back teams. As a whole they continue down the street. Somehow, they are making their way through the crowd with surprisingly little trouble. Two blocks until one of the lead men gets his leg bit by a crawler as he was reloading. He yells as he shoots. The bullet finds its mark, unfortunately it didn’t stop there. His yell intensifies as he collapses on the fragments of bone that used to make up his foot and ankle. The man to his right turns and fires. He knew that he didn’t want to come back as one of those things and was sure his friend didn’t want to either.