Just as the group begins to turn away -
A sound. Wet, squelching. Aberrant.
Barns' blood runs cold.
He whirls back toward the field, eyes snapping to the trenches, where the last of the foam still bubbles over the awakening humans.
And then, something moves.
A figure - but not a zombie. Something else.
A survivor - but not anything like the others.
A man dragging himself from the bodies, skin half-decayed but his eyes fully aware.
He gasps raggedly, his voice hoarse from undeath:
"Please... help me..."
Barns' heart stops.
The man was resurrected - as an undead.
The shambler gasps for air, dropping to his knees. Everyone looks to Barns in shock as the hero approaches, cautiously.
The man has definitively been foamed - that much is certain. And yet he hasn't fully returned to his human form. He's something in between - no longer rotted, but still sallow. Not dead…but a far-flung excuse for 'living'.
