Re: clem rescue - graham/shane/jack/clem
[The undercurrent tugging at the corners of Shane's perception, unfettered linen hard from salt, itched like fucking crazy, but he tried to ignore it. He saw trauma in the twist of bloody fingers in Graham's shirt, and he saw the psychopath with the claws, and he jammed the 6" blade of his skinning knife up through the soft palette of the nearest biter as it spewed black bile out on him. Shane's mind was calm, clear and still, and the entirety of his being was focused on escorting Clementine from solitary. He felt eerily in control, like every detail was plain before him, though, rationally, he knew it could not have been.
Still, he moved with a surety and confidence that gutted the next dead body that leered toward him, tripping over the broken, blood-bruised toes of its feet, and lunging with skin peeled back from jagged finger bones like a fucking a banana peel of gore. He slid the steel tooth of the knife through the slight protrusion of a temple and threw the now lifeless body toward its oncoming brethren. He moved to clear a swath to meet the psychotic fucking Wolverine or whatever the fuck, to allow Graham passage with Clem. He met his friend's eyes—go! Now!]