"Just like that! You gotta work the hips!" Cor stood next to July and pointed at his midsection mid-dance. She had wandered out into the burning sun with Wally, Lenz, Lega, Deston, and Brendan. Cait stood next to Cor with uncertainty. July paid no attention as he continued to move back and forth to the sounds of Wally's external speakers, his eyes closed in unrestrained joy.
"Why are we doing this now?" Cait asked flatly.
"You wanna move it," Cor grabbed Cait from behind by the hips and forced him to mimic July's movements "Like you own it," she squeezed tightly "And you mean it!"
"Ow! Stop that! Ow!" Cait attempted to turn around to pry Cor off of him but only ended up imitating July with more accuracy.
"There you go! You got it! Just like that!" Cor was bent over too low for him to successfully grab.
"I'm not dancing!"
"Exactly! You don't *think* about dancing, you just *do* it!"
"I can't feel my legs..."
"See? You even got your rhythm down! It just feels so automatic, doesn't it?"
"Dancing looks like it hurts." Deston observed with the others.
"She's killing our medic..." Lega tried to keep his comment quiet.
"I'm so sorry Cait, I just don't have it in me to take one for the team like you're doing right now." Wally saluted.
"That actually looks kind of fun..." Brendan tilted his head for a different viewing angle.
"She's got the iron grip of a silverback. Those tears are real, folks." Lenz watched in horror with the rest of them.
***"...even if I could hear what you said, I doubt my reply..."*** The song continued throughout Cor's forced demonstration on Cait.
"Getting into the swing!" Cor moved Cait like a marionette, turning the man into a slightly off version of July's effortless dance moves.
"Help me! Why aren't any of you helping me!?" Cait cried out in anguish to his squadmates.
"My god, look at him go." Wally watched Cait flail about against his own will.
"It's so horrible...why can't I look away?" Deston asked out of confusion.
"It'll be over soon, Des. It'll be over soon." Lenz shook his head.
"Where are they all coming from?!" Ru roared as ejected another empty magazine from his rifle; the split second between reloading forced him to whip the butt of his rifle against a lunging zombie. With a fresh supply of ammunition, the Fifth Division Captain turned his sights on the stampeding hoard before him and opened fire once again. He stood alone against the undead.
"You don't have to stand so close to them." Crim's voice came over a megaphone from atop the Tensian HQ with the rest of the Fifth Division.
"I got this, but I still want to know where in the fuck they're coming from! This is the sixth wave! Did we kill the entire population of this continent yet?!"
"This would be going faster if you let us help-"
"I SAID I GOT THIS! All of you have been hogging the undead killing until now! Now it's my turn! MY. TURN." A rapid exchange of gunfire, rifle whipping, and reloading occured in milliseconds. To the rest of the Fifth, it all appeared as one blur. "Just go back to fixing the HQ while I handle this!"
"We can't really do anything over the noise of your cursing."
"I don't curse."
"An expletive leaves your mouth every other bullet. I think you're enjoying this too much."
"Have you ever gotten that odd feeling where you feel like someone's doing something incredibly badass, but incredibly stupid at the same time?" Deston approached Lenz with the question.
"Not really, I feel something else."
"Oh. What do you feel then?"
"Thirsty. Hungry. And at this immediate moment for Cait, pity."