The night was suddenly too quiet. After the last of the horde had fallen to the ground in a pile of blood and intestines, the four survivors had plenty of time to collect their thoughts. Chris used the time to scout the ground around the hundreds of fresh bodies that now littered the swamp, finding a pipe bomb and some pills. Aidan reloaded, took out his axe (a trusty side weapon he was never without) and switched back to his hunting rifle, before switching back to the axe, and then back to the rifle again. Mark took to jumping between two small earthy mounds that stuck out of the stagnant water, back and forth and back and forth, waiting for the others, while Lara stood by and insulted him ferociously. After twenty seconds, it started to dawn on them each in turn that nothing had attacked them for at least a minute, and that they should probably press on.