Michael struggled with one of the undead creature, using his hatchet to fend it off. As their altercation commenced and both him and Florence descended down the rickety ladder, the five other walkers had taken notice of their presence and were near to swarming around them. Florence knew the gun shot from any of her guns would be too loud and only summon more of them from other back alleys and streets. The entire city was littered with these creatures. No, guns were out of the question if they wanted to sneak their way around the city. Florence figured her best bet was her metal bat, nestled safely in her back pack. 

Acting fast after getting to the ground, Florence reached back into her bag, grabbing a hold of the bat and pulling it out. She swung it at the back of one of the walker’s head’s, hearing it’s skull crush and seeing the putrid blood fly forward from its jaw as it fell to the brick road with a thud. It seemed Michael was still immersed with the walker and the three others did not cease their attack. Feeling slightly confident now, Florence commenced to use her bat again against the others, though as she worked on one, the others began to swarm around her. She managed to swing at their legs, making two of them into crawlers but that didn’t take care of the last one. She really hated to ask for help, but knew she was getting overwhelmed. “Little help here,” she called out to Michael.