[b] Emma - Catacombs/New Orleans - James/Walkers/Haywood Guards[/b]

Immediately when the shots hit the wall, James put her down; away from the corner. He hurried to the turn of the corridor, peeked out, fired a burst, and dodged a return fire. He jumped out again, firing his rifle and hitting someone; a loud "Agh!" coming from the hall. Emma's heart raced as she sat helplessly. She could shoot a pistol well enough, Daniel had made sure of that, but she didn't have one and she couldn't use an assault rifle like James could. Besides, she was barely conscious anyway. James swore loudly, accompanied by the moans of undead people. 

It happened fast; James fired continuously at the walkers, but there were so many. It only took an instant for them to swarm him. Emma scrambled to her feet, painfully running. She lost grip in her step, and went tumbling, just in times to see james fall. To her horror, his gun pointed towards her and misfired as it hit the ground. The three round scattered through the air, the last one piercing through Emma's shirt, and then sinking into her lower back. Emma screamed in pain, which drew the attention of the walkers. The last thing she heard before slipping out of consciousness was the sound of automatic gunfire.

~ Outside the Catacombs, the Haywood Convoy ~

Emma woke with a shock, her chest heaving and and back screaming in pain. Her vision began spot, but she could make out her surroundings. She lay in the bed of a truck, the stars hung over her head. She tried to sit up, but a strong hand pushed her back down. "No, no, don't try and sit up! You'll reopen the wound." The voice came from her right, and the words were inlayed by a heavy Scotland accent. Suddenly, a looming figure stood over Emma, and she could make out the face of an older man with rough, red hair and a scraggly beard. 

"Where- where am I?" She asked through heavy breaths. 

"You're safe, lass. Now I need you not to talk, you're breathing is already uneven as it is. My name is Riley O'Connor, and I'm going to take care of you." The man disappeared for a second and then came back with a clear mask and blue pump. Emma did not retaliate when he placed the mask over her mouth and nose, slowly pumping the blue end. Emma found her lungs slowing down and her head quit pounding. It was then that she became aware of the situation. She felt a breeze run across her stomach; but why could she feel it against her skin? She looked down to see a tightly wrapped bandage covered her lower abdomen. Her warm soccer jersey was gone and her only covering on top was her grey t shirt, which was pulled past her belly-button so that her wound could be tended to. 

"My- my brother..." Emma stammered difficulty. 

"You're brother is leading one of the attacks." He slowly and threw a navy blue blanket over her, returning his hand to the pump. When O'Connor seemed satisfied that her breathing had regulated, he quit pumping, but left the mask around her head. She breathed through the ventilation on the mask as he carefully picked her up, and carried her to the truck's cab. "You're going to be okay, now." 

The last thing Emma saw before falling into a deep sleep was O'Connor producing a walkie-talkie. "Robert; Daniel Crowe's sister is alive and well. We're awaiting your return."