With Grant's hands and feet free he was able to roll to his back and nod to Bri that he understood. He could hear the rotters but he did see them, at least not yet, his vision was still pretty blurred but he knew they were close and that Bri and Captain Cheapshot were fighting them. He felt the gash on the back of his head, it was smaller than he initially thought but those head wounds always bleed like hell. He had just started to sit up when he heard the low growl of one of the risen just above him and before he knew it he was on the ground half out of it and unarmed fighting with it.

As the world around him blurred he had laser focus on the creature atop him. It was foul. Its grey, shriveled skin had decayed long enough that where lips once were there was only a toothy maw chomping at his face as he held it back by the forehead and chest. Its hair was stringy and dirty white, its body somewhat mushy to the touch. Grant struggled to push it away from him in his weakened state, not only was it heavy on top of him but he was afraid if he tried to push it too hard that his hand might go through it and he didn't know what would happen if that happened. He looked around him for anything he could use to hit this thing in the head but nothing was in reach, at least nothing he could see. He could feel himself losing this fight as it dragged on. The creature's hands clawed at Grant's chest unable to make it through his coat, for now.

And then he felt it, the skin on the dead man's head began to rip and slide under Grant's hand bringing the dirty, rotten teeth closer and closer to Grant's face with each passing moment. [color=0076a3]"Help!"[/color] He called out in his panic, he was going to die this time and he knew it.