The walker pushed down on him with surprising strength, despite its decayed and mutilated state. It still bit down on the handle, as if biting it a certain number of times would somehow produce a meal. Michael spotted Florence in his peripheral vision attacking the other walkers with what appeared to be a baseball bat. His knees were bending now, a result of himself not paying attention. Realising the handle was firmly lodged in the walker's fetid mouth, and not coming loose, he quickly pulled it down with both hands, while simultaneously bringing his knee up with great force. Connecting with the walker's jaw, Michael heard a sickening crack as its mandible fractured, finally loosening its death grip on the handle and falling backwards. Michael placed his foot solidly on its chest, preventing it from biting him or getting up, before it had a chance to scratch or rip his legs with its free hands Michael dispatched it quickly and efficiently with a hatchet strike to the forehead.

Michael heard Florence calling out to him, he turned round to see her surrounded by about three walkers, two of them crawling for her ankles. He ran over to her, hurrying in case something happened. Going straight for the walker that was still standing, Michael raised the hatchet. The walker turned towards him snarling, before the hatchet carved that snarl in two. "Stand on their backs." Michael said out of breath, indicating the two remaining walkers crawling towards them, hoping she would understand his seemingly bizarre advice.