He's wearing crude metal armor, but it's light, it's meant to protect against gnarled fingers digging out his guts. It was never meant to protect his back, where he was stabbed with some very large, very sharp blade.

He doesn't recognize the face over him, but the face isn't grey, isn't rotting, and so his panic never manages to focus. It's just nebulous, the shrill terror of a rabbit caught in a snare, worse than that, he's already dying. There are walkers. He killed them all except the one but there are more, he was just buying the group time.

"Go," he tries to say but manages only to spit up a bubble of blood.