[color=BDBDBD][center][color=FFBF00][b]C H A S E[/b][/color] [color=ffffff]8th Street Safe Zone Wilmington, Delaware [@FallenTrinity] ---x---[/color][/center] He hadn't been paying attention. So focused was he on his destination, so loud the noises in his head that when John finally spoke up, he'd already gotten out of the car and strode to within twenty paces of one another. The comment that followed, although meant as nothing more than a simple prod, was the violent jolt that brought Chase back into the now. [center][color=ffffff]"You get a call from this place too?"[/color][/center] He'd frozen mid step with his hand still in the air and his eyes having snapped to the source of the invasive unfamiliar voice. There before him stood a bearded bald man with rifle in hand dressed in military attire. Resting behind him was a car and inside the car was a woman who was noticeably easy on the eyes. Blonde. Blue eyes. He guessed they were blue. It was usually blue and he couldn't really see from where he was standing so he colored them in himself. She been trying to say something to the man or had tried but he'd been ignoring her, so intent was he to keep his focus on the stranger before them both. An understandable gesture but quite the unexpected situation. Although it varied, Chase had been in similar situations before and more than once: Held at gun point. Not standing in front of an aid station with what could have been his dick rag as far as the other guy was concerned. Chase looked again to note that although the rifle was up and probably loaded... possibly, it wasn't necessarily pointing [i]at[/i] him. The barrel was simply staring in his general direction, ready to speak if need be; bark if it's owner felt so inclined. And the owner? Dressed as if he'd just stepped off Battleship New Jersey itself... or perhaps he'd simply slipped off and gotten lost. The point was that he was military and most military men had a code. Most. The women in the car however was the defining factor in what would eventually culminate in his response. She was simply there. There and alive. And not sitting silent either. She had a voice and she was using it. Most of the men Chase had come across abandoned civil rights the moment shit hit the fan. They didn't even need the living dead as a reason. If no one else cared, neither did they. Women had become objects to own. They were bartered and traded with, used, made to be resources or even less. Such was not the case here as she was clearly being protected. The two strangers he'd just happened upon? They could have been his best friends as far as he was concerned. [color=ffffff]"Yeah."[/color] Chase nodded. [color=ffffff]"Radio broadcast lead me here. And you?"[/color] Chase returned the question, his hand still in the air and his eyes on John. Despite liking the two of them, he knew looks could be deceiving and things could go south real quick. [color=ffffff]"You uh get the same messages?"[/color] Chase secretly hoped John would say no. [/color]