Panic flooded over Teddy, rooting him to the spot. In a few brief moments a student had attacked a teacher, then the both of them were attacking others. Most of the students had fled the room, but he wanted to help. He just wasn't sure how. He didn't even know what was going on. He looked between the older students and the adults, his eyes wide and pleading for some sort of guidance as these (monsters?) shambled towards them. He didn't know how to fight. He wanted to cry out to the infected to stay away, cry out to the surviving for a plan, cry out to his parents for comfort, but his voice caught in his throat and stuck there like a wad of dried glue. Instead, all he managed was a whimper, and he took a step back from the advancing seven.