Peering down the barrel of a gun was hardly the most relaxing start to the day for Benjamin. The bus he was on was had been boarded by some less than friendly passengers, who were driving it down town at break neck pace. The men, who's features were obscured by masks, had wasted no time in baring their weapons at each and every one of the passengers.

Normally in this kind of situation getting away from the bus would be the centre of Benjamin's attention but, true to the nature of Pyrrhic city, this was not your 'normal' hold up. Everything about it was strange. First, why drive away a bus you're holding up, people are unpredictable, and would become more of a liability to the criminals. The sensible thing to do would be take their valuables and high tail out of there. If the vehicle was transporting an expensive cargo this might make sense, but as far as Benjamin knew this was just a bus. Secondly there was some sort of glowing mark on their necks. This could indicate cult membership, but Benjamin's current favourite theory was that they were 'zombies'. Probably not dead technically, but the mark was holding sway over their will.

It was too soon to make a move, he was simply to curious about what was going on here to make a break before he had any facts. His mind told him he was making a mistake but his heart and his gut were urging him to stay put. For now he simple concentrated on the gun in front of him. He was so close to it that the cold smell of steel filled his nostrils and he could make out the scratches on the inside of the barrel. Should the man with his finger on the trigger move even an inch Benjamin, would attempt to drop his body below the line of fire and spring back up with a sharp strike to the neck. It wasn't a sure fire plan but it was for the worst case scenario anyway. For now he was happy to wait and see.