Brandon was slowly regaining consciousness, but the memories were faint, almost distant. 'Are- ok Brandon?' Most of the memories were blurred, fuzzy. He felt himself being carried. He heard the groans of, the zombies. He could almost picture their mutilated bodies. He heard a door swing open. 'Let- you up.' Brandon answered with a grunt from a sting in his side, probably an antibacterial solution. He felt the shrapnel rip through his stomach, as pressure was put on the wound. And it was tied up with a piece of clothing.