Wright entered the doorway with the priest guiding him in, barely noticing the Chief's screams in an almost blur like state. He didn't know the man well, although he had seen him around. Nice enough man; John, was it?

He was able to sit down for a moment, just long enough for the next bit of chaos to ensue. His gun probably wouldn't be enough, he knew, as he was on his last magazine - with 8 rounds left. He took off the backpack and got out his crowbar that was in there. The Chief had everyone bring one... the chief now laying dead on the sidewalk...

He snapped to attention when one of the things ran up the stairs, into the lobby and straight at the priest. He gripped the crowbar, an almost mad look entering his eyes. "Oh no you don't, you little fucker!" he yelled at the zombie while swinging at its head with all his might. The head came clean off, bouncing off the walls of the lobby. Strangely... he felt a lot better with that action. More of them were coming up the stairs. They would have to get out of the lobby or somehow hold it off, but what could he do? He was the one man who seemed to have a gun in a room of panic alongside a priest who swung his cross like a bat against the stuff of his nightmares... he had to work hard to resist the urge to laugh at this whole extremely strange turn of events.