[color=BDBDBD][center][color=FFBF00][b]C H A S E[/b][/color]
[color=ffffff][url=https://www.google.com/maps/@39.7429968,-75.5482754,3a,90y,326.23h,92.03t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sWRNi00Id6yEUobIginSAuA!2e0!7i13312!8i6656][color=ffffff]University of Delaware Downtown Center[/color][/url]
Wilmington, Delaware
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It was thirty minutes of splotched conversations, of vague memories shared between men and women and fuzzy dreams of the future. Chase spent those thirty minutes listening, compiling, understanding and then moving on. It was in his nature to pay attention to the stories of others, he'd spent an entire lifetime doing it and perfecting it. Or perhaps he was just very good at faking it. When the conversations stopped and his mind was left to wander, he'd realized he couldn't readily remember what any of them had said. He was too focused on getting in, getting what he needed and getting out. He wasn't supposed to stick around long enough for any of these people to matter and yet here he was... for half an hour.

And now he was standing in his own room. His [i]own[/i]. Four walls, a roof, a window and flooring covered in the thinnest layer of dust he'd seen in a long time. They'd just given it to him, a temporary shelter for a man that learned to live without one. Surrounded by four solid walls, there was no chilling wind to crawl up his spine and whisper in his ear, no feral sounds calling to him in the darkness, no... danger. It was silent and warm and safe. It was foreign. The air was stagnant and dead and carried no warning of the threats around the next corner or the opportunities over the next hill. In this room, the senses he'd learn to rely on were dulled, near useless. He was safe but at the same time, he didn't feel like it. He needed to move. He needed the freedom he'd become accustomed too. It was one of the reasons he was a-

[center][color=ffffff][i]...Shhhh...[/i][/color][/center]
Chase blinked. The silence... it driving him mad, making him think too much or too loud. He had to keep himself busy. Keep himself focused. Create noise but only just so.

Chase shut the door behind him and got to work on stripping himself of his gear. If he was going to be here for a while he might as well make himself comfortable. The backpack was the first to come off. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud and tipped over on it's side letting some of the contents slip out. His jacket followed soon after and as he began to peel away the outermost layer, he could feel the cooler air push through the others and find him. A sheen of sweat became cool beads against his skin. It was the middle of summer and it was easily 80 degrees inside. As he dug through each layer of clothing, he only found more relief until at last he was half naked, a well formed upper body exposed to the elements... of stagnant air. He'd taken good care of himself out of necessity, save for the few scars cut into his chest.

He began pulling on the belt around his waist when the sound of an engine... a few engines disturbed his stifling peace. Chase moved to the window and caught two bikes and a car pulling up to the safehouse.

[color=ffffff]"Shit."[/color]

From where he was standing, he couldn't get a proper head count but he knew whatever the number, it was more than what he was comfortable with. His previous fears, the ones he'd try to push back in this moment of good fortune, was coming back to haunt him. He knew other people had picked up the broadcast and now here they were at the front door and in force. He watched as Doug and Omar went into the street to greet them. The two were joined by John, their now resident Navy man. However Chase knew it was impossible to know what they wanted without putting someone at risk. The issue wasn't with the dead. They were easy. It was the living who were unpredictable. They were smart and cunning and quiet. It was a chore trying to weed out the good from the bad and deal with each accordingly.

[color=ffffff]"Should have just stuck with the plan Chase."[/color] He berated himself for his third lapse in judgement of the day. He was going on a record now and one he hoped to break. [color=ffffff]"Should have been gone already and you wouldn't be stuck in this building with all these people."[/color] Chase grabbed his backpack and fished around for the radio he'd stuffed inside. He noted the channel of the safehouse and then switched to another out of habit as he opened the door and made his way down to the first floor. With his mind occupied and his thumb pressing the talk button in a series of slow and deliberate clicks, Chase would reach the front door having forgotten he was shirtless.

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