Rashad Barthez

Rashad moves up the wagon to stand besides the driver's seat. The view of infected rushing towards them was much better up here. "Get us moving Thurman," Rashad says, in a rather quiet voice. He wanted to have the man ram the crowd head on, to hear the crunch that their disgusting flesh and bone made under the wheels of the bus.

But this wasn't the time for that. When Rashad spoke again his voice was his normal flat tone. "To the right side of the swarm, keep as far to the edge as you can, we want to get away, not into the crowd."

Turning he looked at the others farther back the bus.

"Everyone, left side of the bus, man the murder hoels! Prepare to repel clingers!"