The mind was willing but the flesh was weak.
Our little band of survivors was quite close to the intersection where the main entrance and the road where I took down a thousand deadheads last time, and it allowed me to catch some footage from the big screen.
It showed that one bloater on the other side of the ring had broken through their formation—though it was now on its stomach—but it now had fresh meat from the menu.
The person it was feasting on was crushed under its sheer weight and no one from their own circle could save him because the deadheads had already poured over them and caused some sort of stampede.
From our side, we could see the number of deadheads moving onto their side because it had a leak but there were still more coming from the road toward the stage. Almost all of them didn't know where to go because they hit a dead-end, and since our group was much, much closer, they opted to attack us instead.
I would've preferred to help the group in trouble but right now, our hands were also tied.