[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ff00]Jack Hudson[/color][/h1][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/5fd701871bcdd94bcf667b0966389471/tumblr_inline_nuo4lkbhl51qlt39u_500.gif[/img][hr]Location: Armory (Building 6) ---> Going South on Lagrange Street[/center][hr][hr]Huh. His mother used to scold him for being ignorant before, claiming that he never paid attention, and just rushed into things. Jack couldn't help but imagine her screaming at him from heaven for running into a burning building--and only noticing the flames as they entered inside. Maybe this was why he was a cop, rather than a fireman. And why the assigned him to vice--sex crimes rarely involved fire. 

[color=00ff00]"I'll be damned,"[/color] Jack admitted, having receiving his box of joy: gun, ammunition, and hunting knife. [color=00ff00]"Maybe I do need glasses..."[/color] he joked, before quickly following Bazhooli out of the building. The flames had crept towards the middle, and he figured it wouldn't be pretty if they stuck around too long. Once they got to a safe distance, Jack grinned a bit, seeing the little cat. He gave the cat a friendly wave, before he frowned, noticing alongside Bazhooli that the cat wasn't playing a friendly game...

[color=00ff00]"Our luck is shit today,"[/color] Jack commented, before drawing his hunting knife and running with Bazhooli. The shambling corpse had already risen and was coming straight at them. But with the large Russian, carrying throwing knives next to him, Jack felt relatively safe. His main concern? He wasn't with Tatiana at that moment to protect her. He figured that Bazhooli throwing the knife would be the best choice, but if the walker got too close, he'd give her a [i]friendly[/i] kick to push her back, followed up by a nice knife stab to the head. 
[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#23D5B7]Beatrice Decker[/color][/h1][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/cac412ef75155b429cd882ea24a5d411/tumblr_mtwjei8bOL1rhs5nco5_250.gif[/img][hr]Location: Heading to Newnan (Coming From the North)[/center][hr][hr]No one seemed to take aim at her to shoot. That was a good sign--but also troubling. The security in the joint was practically atrocious, as Beatrice continued her walk south, examining the wall slightly as she went. She wasn't stupid enough to walk right up to it, but she wasn't turning a blind eye to it. Every little detail she could take in, she did. And odds were, maybe the entire lot would be dead by the time she found a way inside. They seemed to be having a [i]slight [/i]issue with explosions. 

If it hadn't been so dangerous, she would've started whistling to herself. And with the thought of a hoard coming near the explosions, Beatrice moved a little faster. There didn't seem to be any break in the wall yet, nothing that resembled a gate. Hopefully, they'd take pity on her and let her inside. [i]She[/i] wasn't the one attracting every walker in Georgia, after all. She continued on her way, moving until she saw what looked like a gate. 

Shouting wasn't her style. But the thought of getting trampled by a hoard wasn't her idea of a good time anyways. [color=#23D5B7]"Hey! Anyone home?"[/color] Beatrice called out. She knew very well that there had to be people on the wall--but anything to make herself look a little less dangerous couldn't hurt. Things had to be pretty tense in there at the moment. People might have even died from the explosions she heard. That tended to make things a little uncomfortable when it came to new people waltzing up. [hr][hr][center][h1][color=#ff6600]Chloe Ridgeway[/color][/h1][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/6741b2679916fba3f9176b902f65e56a/tumblr_inline_mfhw8yJjQu1rcntul.gif[/img][hr]Location: Truck in the Woods[/center][hr][hr]Chloe nodded, her heart beating furiously in her chest. Irony would be her getting killed for trying to do the right thing. And for a moment, she couldn't help but feel perhaps that would be the way she'd die. At least the odds of being killed in a drive by shooting were significantly lower, thanks to the Viking woman and the walkers. However, the mention that they had a doctor sparked her interest. Doctors meant organized groups--and an organized group meant that maybe she'd find Riley there. 

[color=ff6600]"Of course,"[/color] Chloe replied, the nervousness clear in her voice. She set down her pocket knife and pistol, but grabbed her first aid kit. She didn't know exactly what they might have, but a botched amputation could easily kill without proper treatment. Heading over to the injured man, Chloe saw that they had already elevated the leg. That was good. However, bleeding was still possible. She opened up her kit, taking out some gauze, and began to put pressure on the wound. 

[color=ff6600]"How's he doing for shock?"[/color] Chloe murmured, speaking indirectly to the woman next to the man, the non-Viking blonde. [color=ff6600]"My name's Chloe, by the way."[/color] From what she could recall, pressure had to be kept on for at least fifteen minutes. And hopefully, the man hadn't lost too much blood. She couldn't even fathom where they could find blood in the apocalypse, unless someone happened to share the man's blood type.