Decisions made under extreme stress usually are not "sound" decisions. Nowhere is this more evident than in my current predicament with Katarina, sitting uncomfortably on top of budget-buy dog food bags at the top of a grocery store shelf.
She looks at me and I look at her, both of us not saying a word. The only sounds in the store are the moans of those things several feet below us. I keep running through possible escape scenarios in my head, and they all seem possible if it wasn't for the fact that there are a DOZEN corpses shuffling around below us.
It's not so much a question of speed, as it is a worry about the sheer number of bodies we'd have to shove through. I've seen the movies where the characters make a run for it, thru the middle of a bloodthirsty crowd. Something ALWAYS goes wrong, always. Losing your footing, even for just a split second, could throw you off enough to get grabbed. Darting left when you should have darted right can land you smack-dab in the middle of the wrong set of arms. All the possibilities of how horribly wrong this could go keep dancing around in my brain.
I can't escape the thoughts either, seeing as Katarina and I are both up here, crammed back as far as possible from the edge of the shelving, watching those things watching us.