CDC Center. Missouri.

Harris turned around, shaking his head with a slight bit of anger. Petra was hot, and some douche bag like Jon [i]would[/i] be the one to get her. How the hell could someone even look at someone who just murdered a guard that way? It was beyond him. He moved to his room and gathered up his stuff, deciding to do what he could to get clothes. He did have his own as he said before, but more of them were warmer items, and thus not appropriate for winters with snow and cold temperatures. He pulled his bag out and put it in his doorway as he stepped out. Jon said he could have some of his clothes, but maybe there were more. He looked at the dead security guard and debated taking his clothing. Harris though, he didn't know the man and while the guard did turn his gun on him, Harris couldn't blame him. Zombies, being locked in a building like this, then some guy opens the door while some kind of attack is going on, it was probably his training. He shook his head, unable to look at the body under the sheet, knowing it was beaten, and bloody. Harris pictured him as he looked at him before Jon jumped him, and that image didn't seem like such a bad guy. Just someone who was scared.

And the more Harris thought about things, the more scared he became himself.

He vaguely heard some talking come from the armory, but it didn't sound like two people fucking, so he assumed they were either done or they had just finished before Harris walked in. Either way, he was going to avoid that for a bit. He did want to get his hands on some of that stuff. One thing he say were big bags, and right now he just had some K-Swiss backpack that was bulging, beat up, and hardly fit his things in there. If he DID get warmer clothing, it sure wasn't going to fit in there. Plus, having one of those guns would be pretty fucking cool too.

Soon enough, Harris would find himself joined by Will, a bag slung over his shoulder. He seemed a good deal more comfortable, dressed in his usual outfitting- Jeans, hiking boots, t-shirt and windbreaker. The bag on his back looked fairly light and hollow, as if he hadn't bothered to put much in it- And of course there was the impossible to miss oddity of the fact that bside the bag he had a quiver of arrows strapped to his back... The bow itself, he held loosely in his left hand. How he even got that in the facility is a mystery.
".... Sup."

Because formal greetings make no sense in a place like this if there aren't other hot sixteen year old girls around.
"Where'd everybody get off to?"

His gaze flicked about in an almost bored manner, as if he were already discontent with how slow things were moving. The only thing that continually drew his attention back was the corpse at the end of the hall- A corpse he was now crouched before. He lifted the edge of the sheet that covered it and peered beneath curiously, sniffing, then poking a few of the open wounds and fractures on the skull from where Jon had pounded it.

Harris shook his head at Will, debating saying something, but then he assumed the kid was maybe salvaging or looking for something of use. Had he known he was just looking out of some morbid or wanna-be detective curiousity, he'd have spoke up. Instead he turned away and looked down the hall, seeing the girl, Marianne, coming out into the hallway, looking meek and quiet. He waved her over and said to Will, "put the sheet down, the kid is coming. Anyway, I'm assuming everyone's getting their shit together. I didn't have much myself. Did you have any spare, well, anything I guess? I only brought short sleeves and shorts. Jon said he's look too. Oh, speaking of Jon, him and Pahtra or whatever her name is are fucking in the armory. So. That's cool," he ended with a heavy does of sarcasm. 

Will dropped the sheet back into place with a shrug, flicking his wrist to shake the blood from his fingertips, wiping the rest off on his jeans.
"Figures. I didn't bring much of anything, outside of my bow and knife."

He offered a shrug, stretching out with a few grunts and a sigh, shaking out his limbs.
"Nice to finally be out of the damn cell though. It was getting stuffy in there. Still, if you didn't bring anything, might as well head into the armory. Sure they'll have some spare clothes and the like."

Without further ado, he himself made his way for the room in question, expecting Harris and Marianne to follow on their own, apparently. He didn't say much of anything to Jon or Petra, just setting to rummaging through things. He seemed to have a specific set of tasks in mind- After all, he was aware of something the others might not be. He'd listened in on a few of his father's meetings before they sent him away, and by the way things were going, he didn't doubt what had been said. 'Reanimates'. 'Zombies'. Some kind of viral outbreak that was bringing the dead back. In truth, he'd always wondered what surviving the zombie apocalypse might be like. He figured now was his chance to find out. Soon, he gathered a small array of materials- Both from inside the armory, and from the rooms nobody had come out of. A badass looking leather jacket, a roll of bandages, a 9mm glock and holster, plus a pair of loaded clips and a pair of ammo boxes- both placed in his bag.

Still mostly silent, he went through the strange process of cutting off the right sleeve of that wonderful new jacket, tucking away his windbreaker and replacing it with the leather jacket, leaving his right arm bare from shoulder to fingertip. Who the hell knows why. Still, knowing it would be cold, he couldn't sacrifice warmth for freedom of movement entirely- The bandages were promptly wrapped around his right forearm from wrist to elbow. Warm, -and- as good a place as any to keep a roll of bandages! The glock, he clipped to his thigh, just beside his knife, and once he'd replaced his quiver and bag on his back, he generally looked like a badass ready to take on hordes of zombies.

"Hey! Harris, I found clothes in one of those rooms. Should be some that fit you."
He pointed to Harris, and then to the room he'd grabbed his new jacket from.

The girl never really made her way over, instead she seemed to look around for someone, and Harris assumed it was Petra, whom she was talking with earlier. Harris looked at Will when he told him to go over to the room. "Thanks," he said and did just that, leaving his bag on the floor for now. He moved across the hall, peaking into the armory as he did and went into the door that Will pointed him to. The two were just standing there casually, obviously just talking at this point, but it looked like Petra had appearantly grabbed some gear or some sort. Harris would go in later, right now he didn't want to feel awkward. Inside the room, he started to go through the drawers and look around, initially feeling bad at rummaging through another man's things...but he was dead now, and Harris needed them more. 

"Whatever you say." She just gave his words an easy going shrug. There were more important things to worry about, right? For instance, the survival of everyone else that wasn't a government dignitary deemed worthy of his own CIA escort. When he explained further while she was grabbing gear, it made a little less sense. He might have fumbled his words. They [i]would[/i] have given the kid a Rambo-type SEAL guy, right?

Petra ignored any snide comments she might have overheard about sexual encounters, instead refocusing on her conversation with Jon. In addition to her newly acquired weaponry, she went ahead and added manipulation into her arsenal. Harris was going to make it even easier for her by even mentioning it. Jon was playing right into it, seemingly. Maybe a little too well. She watched him fumble with the belt. Why were his hands shaking? When he held it out with his palm open, she snatched it hungrily before pulling it around her hips. The holes didn't quite go back far enough, so she pulled the knife from her pocket and went at it to make another farther back enough to give her a snug fit. She glanced up at him every few seconds while she was working.

"So, can you get that other door open, or what?"

Will lofted a brow at Petra's stabbing of a hole in the belt, frowning.
"What a waste of a good belt..."
This coming from the guy who just cut the arm off of a jacket. He was probably just trying to relieve a bit of the silent tension.

"But what she said, think you can get it open for us? I've had my fill of being trapped in this building, in or out of a single room."

Being stuck in places does not agree with Will.

Jon cleared his throat and looked around, the look on his face seeming to say "holy shit, other people are here." He took note that outside the armory, there was more action now and he fought back the sudden desire to take control. Not knowing exactly what everyone was doing didn't sit well with him. Mentally, he was going over her answer, 'whatever you say' and he wasn't sure if that was telling him that she didn't believe him, or simply that it didn't matter. 

"Yeah, I can get that door open, but that's the control room, that won't get us out. The doors there," he pointed to a pair of double doors that were slightly barricaded. On the inside of the door, there were chains on it, although no lock, and a few large pieces of metal holding them closed. What they would NOT be able to see is that on the other side, once the doors opened in, there were heaps of items blocking the way. Once those items, which included shelves, beds, drawers, and other large pieces of debris, were removed, that would lead down a 30 foot hallway to a stairwell going to the second level. Jon knew where the stairs went based on the map, but had no idea what was on the other side. He continued after a pause, "that one, despite the obvious fire safety violation, leads downstairs and out. And I don't know about you guys, but I'm not in a hurry open every door and run out, or invite any one or any thing that's out there inside. So, let's just relax, take stock of the situation, and we'll go from there. Right now, we should make sure we're all getting what we need in [i]case[/i] we have to leave. I don't know about you, but I'd RATHER be here, in this building or room, than out there if there are feet of snow, or....other dangers out there."

Petra sneered at the kid when he made the comment about the belt.

"Right. Agreed. No reason to rush things. We get in the control room, we learn more about what it's like out there. What we're dealing with. Surely there's a newspaper or something, right? Maybe some more bodies with outside objects on them." A few seconds later, she was done creating the new notch. She pulled the gun from her waistband and slid the slots of the hoslter over the belt before fastening it around her hips. She gave Jon her best smile, which was really more of a roguish smirk when combined with her half closed dark eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into her hip once more, waiting to see what was on the other side of that door.

By now, pretty much everyone was back in the hallway, except Harris. He had thrown a heap of clothing onto the bed in a rough pile, some of it would be too big for him, but some would fit well enough. From the looks of it, a few people slept here. There were two beds and a mix of clothing items of different styles and sizes. Harris didn't have to be a detective to do the math. He heard the group talking and after taking what was probably too much clothing, he just grabbed it all and made his way out into the hallway. Jon, Petra, Will, Marianne, Kim and himself were now all outside, talking about leaving, doors, and who knows what else. He interruped slightly, telling Jon, and all of the others, "I should be good on clothes, the room there, Will found it, it's where the guards slept and stuff I guess. So, there's more stuff there."

At this point, Kim, who'd been silent up to this point, spoke up. "Why do we even leave? Why not stay here? I see no reason to leave." Jon gritted his teeth at the condescending tone, taking a moment to figure out how to tactfully tell her to fuck off. "Look, you can stay if you want. Why we'd leave, at least eventually, is because at some point, I do not want to resort to eating you. Or anyone else. Unless you have a farm in your room somewhere that I'm not aware of." 

"Let's just get the door open, right? All of this can wait." The investigation was the most important thing right now. "Come on, Romeo." She liked the new nickname. "Put those CIA skills to good use." Petra glanced back over her shoulder at Kim, the threatening look on her face suggesting she might have to come shut her up if she delayed things any further. The smile returned after she turned back toward the door.

Will seemed pretty content to just stand around quietly for now. Though, he kept a wary hand on his knife, staring at the door they were talking about opening. They'd already been attacked once coming out of their rooms, who's to say there wasn't another person in there with a gun? Or more?
"What she said."

Harris dumped the clothing by the bag in his doorway and went through the crowd, trying to keep quiet and avoid getting involved. He moved to the armory and looked inside, seeing a few things he'd like to grab. "Well, I'm gunna head in there and grab some stuff." If anyone heard him, they didn't show it immediately. With a shrug, he moved in, while Jon blushed slightly at the nickname being used out loud now. "It's uh...not CIA skill. Simple bypassing security protocols and knowing... It's computer shit. Simple really." 

Harris kind of walked quietly into the room, shaking his head and grabbing a bag, a handgun, which he'd never fired before, some magazines and a knife. He tossed them into the bag and then added a few canteens. He didn't waste time organizing, knowing he'd be adding clothes and other things. He came outside and waited with everyone else.