Ellis poked his head around a corner inside an abandoned house. "Hey, looks clear. Let's go."

He stepped out into the street, followed by the other three survivors. They kept moving, shooting the occasional zombie. Ellis spotted a shotgun lying on the sidewalk at the end of the block, so he ran to replace his low-ammo submachine gun. Unfortunately for him, he rounded the corner and ran into a Tank.

The Tank roared angrily and charged. Ellis was sent flying across the street and crashed through a plate glass window. Everyone else ran madly down the road to rescue the kid. The Tank followed his hapless victim into the small café and punched again. This time, Ellis sailed backwards and landed in a pile of broken furniture. He didn't move.

Coach crouched in the doorway, emptying his shotgun into the towering zombie. The Tank turned and charged Coach, who quickly stepped out of the way. Outside, the three survivors left on their feet quickly finished the Tank.

Rochelle reached Ellis first and knelt next to him. "Don't move, sweetie. There's a piece of broken wood sticking in your side." She turned to Nick and Coach. "Do either of you know first-aid?"

"Better stop the bleeding on his leg," Nick said. "That's a lot of blood."

"Well, give me that towel," Rochelle ordered. Nick shook debris off of the cloth before handing it to Rochelle, who pressed it onto the deep gash above Ellis's left knee.

"Owww, that hurts," Ellis moaned in protest.

"Sorry, hon, I can't let you bleed to death." Rochelle turned to Nick and Coach, who were hovering anxiously. "Who has a healthkit?" Nick shrugged. "Pills? Adrenaline?" Coach shook his head. "Nothing? Well, get more some more fabric for bandages. Check the kitchen."

Ellis tried to sit up, but Rochelle put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Hold still. I don't know how bad you're hurt, and you really can't afford to lose much more blood." Coach returned with a handful of reasonably clean dishtowels, while Nick went to cover the café's entrance.

Rochelle looked at Ellis's side. "It's sticking right through him. I don't think any ribs are broken, though. Just missed them." She turned to Coach. "Do you think you can pick him up?"

Coach bent down and carefully slid his arms under Ellis. He straightened up, lifting Ellis into the air.

"Put him on the counter," Rochelle said. Ellis whimpered as Coach set him down. Rochelle quickly put another towel on Ellis's side and tore some of the remaining towels into strips to hold to makeshift bandages in place. "This won't last forever. Who's most experienced with minor surgery?" Nick and Coach shook their heads.

"Seriously, guys. I dissected a frog once in a high-school biology class. I can't--"

"You're our man, Ro," Nick told her.

"People?" Coach said. "There's zombies coming." He and Nick crouched at the front of the building to take down the horde. Rochelle stood in front of Ellis and shot over their heads with her rifle. When all the attacking zombies had died, Rochelle turned to Ellis, who lay on the countertop groaning.

"We can't stay here," she stated.

"There's a sign pointing to a safe room out there." Coach pointed down the block.

"Up and at 'em, Ellis," Rochelle said. "We're gonna get to that safe room and everything will be all right." She pulled Ellis into a sitting position. He flopped forward and rested his head on her shoulder. "That's it. Lean on me, and I'll get you there." Rochelle dragged Ellis off the counter onto his feet. He sagged and almost fell, but Nick grabbed his other arm. Together, Nick and Rochelle started walking with Ellis between them.

"Looks like you get to cover us, Coach," Nick said.

"Hey, I can still use this pistol with one hand," Rochelle reminded everyone as the group slowly began walking down the street.

She almost didn't get a chance to demonstrate her pistol-wielding skills: Coach nailed every common zombie before they spotted the humans.

Just outside the safe room, a Charger attacked Nick. Rochelle dove out of the way, pulling Ellis with her. He landed on top of her, gasping in pain. Rochelle turned her head to the side and emptied her clip into the Charger pummeling Nick. Coach killed the monster with an axe and helped Nick to his feet.

"You okay?" Coach asked.

"Yeah, just a few bruises."

Nick and Coach both lifted Ellis off Rochelle, who quickly scrambled to her feet. They made it into the saferoom, all three half-carrying Ellis.

Rochelle cleared off a folding table in the center of the room. "Thank goodness, someone left a tray of surgical instruments. Put him here. Coach, I'll need you to make sure he holds still while I clean out these wounds. Nick, just stand there and be ready to make yourself useful."

Ellis lay on the table and stared at the cracked plaster ceiling. Rochelle decided to start with the nasty gash on his leg. She unzipped a health pack and removed the bottled of rubbing alcohol. Nick held the instruments while Rochelle sterilized them.

Rochelle then poured a little alcohol in the open wound. Ellis screamed.

"Ohhh! It's burning me! Owww!"

"Just hang on, sweetie, it'll stop soon. I had to sterilize the wound." Rochelle began picking glass splinters and other miscellaneous dirt out of Ellis's leg. He was very close to sobbing now; each breath was ragged and gasping.

"Okay, done with that. Let's get this leg bandaged up. Nick?" Nick dug in the health pack and produced a roll of gauze and some adhesive tape. Rochelle slapped a folded gauze pad and a liberal dose of antibiotic ointment onto the still-bleeding would and covered it in tape. "That'll have to do. How are you feeling, Ellis?"

"Everything hurts. Everything."

Rochelle nodded. "Hang in there. I'll be finished soon." She turned to Coach. "Roll him on his side so I can get at this would. Nick, have you got the alcohol?"

"Oh, no," Ellis wailed.

"Sorry, Ellis. But trust me, if this gets infected, you'll learn about a whole new level of pain." Rochelle splashed a little rubbing alcohol into the open wound. Ellis tried to pull away.

"No! Please! Ro, just make it stop!" he cried.

"You're going to be okay, Ellis. Count to ten, and it'll stop burning soon."

Coach pinned Ellis to the table as Rochelle carefully removed bits of wood. She peered into the wound.

"Well, the spear passed right between a couple of ribs, so that's good news. The bad news is that part of it broke off and is stuck a little deeper in. I could pull it out, but that would tear the tissue."

"No no no, don't do that," Ellis begged.

"I won't; don't worry." Rochelle turned to Nick. "That one." Nick handed Rochelle the scalpel. She looked up at Coach, who nodded and tightened his grip on Ellis.

"Take a deep breath, Ellis. This'll hurt, but I'm almost done."

Rochelle quickly cut the chunk of wood free and picked it out. Ellis started sobbing in earnest as she hastily bandaged the wound.

"Done. Ellis, sweetie, I'm done." Ellis didn't answer. Rochelle wiped off her hands and turned to the other two. "I'll spread that sleeping bag out. Let's get him down for some rest."

Nick and Coach carefully picked up Ellis and set him down on the sleeping bag someone had abandoned in the safe room. Ellis moaned weakly and grabbed Rochelle's hand. She sat down next to him.

"Try to get some sleep. You'll be back on your feet in no time, and we'll get out of here."

Ellis was already drifting off. After a while, Rochelle sprawled on the floor next to him and caught some sleep. Later there would be time enough to run and fight; now was time to rest.