For once, Raph just nods and does what he's told. There's no time for arguments. Right now, any plan is better than nothing.

At least the smell hasn't gotten to him as bad as it has for Leo. Maybe because he always seems to be the one getting slimed every time they have the pleasure of fighting something disgusting. He gets in close in ways that none of his other brothers' fighting styles would dare, and it definitely lacks the finesse of sword boy's over there. Sure, it stinks, but he's got other things on his mind.

Like how the hell they're gonna make it out of here alive.

They stick to the rooftops as they head toward the canals that replace much of the Sector's main streets, dodging falling dead and shrapnel as their heavy landings pulverize clay roof tiles. Whenever he gets a chance, Raph plunges his sai into the reanimated corpses, shoving them off the side of buildings to the hard ground below.

By the time they reach the canal the streets are like clogged arteries. Clots of zombies claw at boarded-up storefronts lusting for any promise of a meal. But the water's too shallow to risk a dive from the rooftops. They'll have to go down.

Standing on the edge of the roof, looking down into the zombie hoard, Raphael wonders if breaking his neck just might be the better alternative.