((I'll throw in a filler while we wait for Caitlyn and Claude to get in.))
As the crowbar was placed and successfully prevented further movement by the elevator, I rolled into the elevator and, from my nearly broken will and disgust, stood up to take my jacket and mask off. The mask broke into fragments as it hit the floor. I wiped the vomit off my browned-out linen shirt and threw it out of the square chamber.
Suddenly, a body broke off the hook and activated the mechanisms in the chamber besides the elevator. The body fell off into the dugout pond. Tens of pairs of hands stitched like spiders painfully and slowly skittered out of the pond, using the body as a medium, and blindly around the room, grappling what small object they bumped into. It was also a lucky moment: Thanks to Mort there was not enough concentration to burn us alive. But the frightening part was that as a 'modified' body entered a small spherical chamber, it was minced to several pieces by the rough and guttural grinding sound, rotten blood and flesh spattered from the victim. Luckiest for us though: the hands found their way to the assembly and delayed their walk to the group. They fight.
This was a moment of opportunity and death: Claude and the Sheriff, Caitlyn must enter the elevator now or die when the undead armoured men would have finished with the skittering hands.