Threnody moaned as the Zombie stood over her, just stood there. Repeating her name. She could feel pain for the first time while drinking. She'd drunk so much that there wasn't any more for her to drink and numb the pain of the bullet wound. It was healing, much faster than it had any right to, eating up all the energy she'd drunken. Leaving her devoid of that wonderful taste.
Only the smell of the ghosts around Molly tempered it. Made it bearable as she came down from her high and began coughing up blood, rolling to her side and curling in on herself.
The people in Camp parted to let another man through. He had no gun, lifting his arms instead to fire off a concussive energy blast toward Molly's cover. It swept past Threnody and she pulled in a strangled gasp as the zombie was pushed over her while her body reacted by absorbing what energy hit her. It wasn't the kind she needed to heal, but it was something. Something tangible.
The girl rolled herself onto her other side, still coughing up her lung and lifted her head to finally look at the situation and begin to figure out what was happening.
Men with guns. The painfully lifting fog couldn't keep her from understanding that that was a very bad thing to see. The energy she'd just taken from the concussive blast was sent right toward the group. They tumbled like bowling pins before she was back to coughing up blood.