Abby's far stronger than these rotting creatures of bone and sinew, but it doesn't mean they aren't dangerous. They're not bound by human limitations, human pain, and Ellie flinches when she hears Abby scream. The thick snapping noise keeps her from sprinting to her side -- instead she makes her way to where the griffons are rearing up against their leads as the corpses shamble closer, and pulls the knots free from the twisted tree they're tied to.

There's no time to saddle up, but with him and Blanche free, they can at least defend themselves.

Ellie turns back to the fight, but not in time to avoid the grasping, fetid hand of a corpse. It's weaponless, a nameless victim of the bog, but inhumanly strong. And it gets a hold around her throat.

With a muffled curse, Ellie grips the thing's arms, slams her knee into its solar plexus. Ribs crack and buckle, but in this case, Ellie's experience works against her. Unlike Infected, these things don't feel pain.

The grip doesn't ease.