He held off the horde of zombies that, just as he thought, could only come in by the threes at best of they were shoulder-to-shoulder in the narrow alleyway. It was a matter of timing the swings of the lead pipe, and knowing when to throw a punch instead.

As the zombies fell, buying Tassadar space and time, they became an obstacle for the remainder of the horde, who had to climb over and make themselves known to Kanji before they were beaten down.

He snuck a glance over his shoulder once or twice as he worked. The spiders were acting weird, hissing and flexing their fangs at the air around them, legs flailing as his companion was making short work of them.