Boom, that was it. The bullet shot forth, splitting the infected's skull instantly, a flurry of brain and biomass spewing from the eruption. Crimson splattered against the youth's milky white complexion, staining the soft skin with a hue of red, her face speckled with the remains of what was left of the creature's head. Blue optics widened in desperation, pupils dilating in shock. Stunned silent she simply stared forward, features nothing more than a blank state, the only noticeable lead towards emotion being the wildness in her gaze. But soon enough her body relaxed, loosing rigidity, muscles loosening up. The iron cooking utensil slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor with a series of pangs and thumps. Those delicate lips curled downwards, forming a fragile frown, hues taking a more saddened approach. The thousand yard stare had set in, a gaze that was set for the beyond, but never truly saw anything. Traumatized the female fell into silence, no sounds or words uttered, no movement made. Her brain had gone into overdrive and short circuited from all the tension, all the events that had led up to this inevitable breaking point. Shattered, she receded into herself, the body's form of protection.
"Hey, you alright girly?" With a soft click the shells of the shotgun discharged, two more being reloaded into the barrel with the motion. The male stepped forward, dark eyes sporting a rather determined gaze. His composure was unwavering, intentions pure, as he made his approach to the broken child. He lowered his weapon, holding the automatic at his hip, a hand placed on her shoulder. With a gentle shake he tried to coax her back into reality, wake her up, but it didn't make a difference. She was far too gone to be repaired and worst of all he knew it. A soft sigh escaped his dark lips, gaze drifting off to the side briefly. Great, another one lost to this epidemic.
Taking a moment to think things through a heavy silence fell between the pair. He had to choose his words wisely. The situation was already fragile enough at hand, there was no need to make it any worse with poor word choice. "Everything will be alright. I've got some fri-"
"Hey Coach, you alright in there? We heard some firin' up in here." The brunette took point, leading two trailing group members to a reunion with the male now known as Coach. He stopped short a little ways of them, glancing behind the taller black man to the petite individual behind him. One of his brows arched in a curious manner, weapon being dropped down as well. From what he could tell she wasn't in any condition to be out and about. From the her blood matted hair, ooze crusted features and wrecked clothing it seemed that she had been through the mill. This apocalypse had taken an obvious toll on her. "Looks like we got another member to our family. Well shoot, I'm Ellis, nice to meet cha'. This here is Rochelle and Nick."
"Nice to meet you." The woman commented in turn, giving a friendly nod of the head with a rather strained smile. "We'll get out of this hell hole if it's the last thing we do." Some positive reassurance never hurt, and being the optimist was a rather heavy role that she had learned to shoulder.
Nick, on the other hand, didn't do much. He simply gave her a once over before glancing over his shoulder. If there was one thing the conman knew how to do it was to look out for himself. Taking in the girl didn't seem like a very good choice to him. It didn't benefit them much at all. If she couldn't fight or fend for herself, which it certainly didn't seem that way, then she would be nothing more than a burden. They didn't need any more weight on their shoulders.
With a pat on the back the brunette was coaxed into tagging along with the strangers who had so readily came to her rescue. Her cooking utensil was slipped back in hand, upper back given a quick rub by the coach for reassurance. And so they stepped out into the daylight, greeted by the hungry moans of the infected, a city infested with pests.