Thomas rammed his axe into the lurker's head with a routine movement, and started awkwardly running towards the cabin in the distance. It was such a hassle that his car decided to break down in the middle of the fucking forest, but he was no mechanic. Ofcourse the walking bastards had been attracted by the dying screams of the engine, and he needed a place where he could take them down one by one, where he wouldn't be disadvantaged by his handicap.That was when he saw the cabin in the woods. The backpack on his shoulders weighing him down he ignored most of the walkers, choosing to avoid them rather than to engage. 'twere some stringy bastards, and it was too easy to lose his axe to one should he stumble, be it due to his leg or due to the crawler.