That night was meant to be frightening and filled with sorrow.
Lights were ablaze throughout the night under Iron Mountain. Nearly a hundred people were divided into two groups—one was to clean up the battlefield while the other was fishing the zombie out of the water. Neither was an easy job, and buried under everyone's nonchalant faces was a mix of multitude of feelings.
Blood and flesh were scattered everywhere in bits and pieces. There were even scraps of human flesh up on the tree branches, and it all had to be cleaned up. The parts that were too fragmented could only be gathered together and sent away for incineration later. Those that were more intact would be identified and given a proper burial afterwards.
