[@Wick]
---
Nic closed his eyes and breathed in deep. The hordes were coming, and he was alone, surrounded, and allies would not be coming. His smile widened, the smile of a child let loose into an arcade and told that he was free to play however long he wanted. This was what he lived for - this thrill. 

The supplies he had gathered were already bundled and thrown out of the building. It was a large cache, and he was sure that it would help them out in the long run. With that, the primary objective was complete, which meant nobody could fault him for having a little fun now.

He was inside the penitentiary, at the very entrance. Currently, vast hordes were swarming about, attracted by the sound, but having no specific direction to go to; after all, the sirens were built in and out of the building. 

Looking around him, he made note of the different possible choke points. Hordes were easier to deal with when they came in one-by-one, so that was always the first thing he looked for. There were three that he made note of: one, the stairs, which was also close to a fire exit which doubled as a convenient escape route. Two, the bathrooms, probably a bad option given that there was little to no room to maneuver. Three, the entrance itself was a barricaded double door that only allowed for the zombie to either climb over or squeeze through the gaps.

Deciding to set up at the entrance, Nic welcomed his first of many guests with a grin.

It was a former riot policemen. Perfect.

Despite the difficulty of killing these annoyingly tough bastards, they did have one major weakness, namely that they couldn't move as well as others of their kind, due to the armor they wore. - which meant that they were even more clumsy and easier to trip.

Nic dealt with the first one by letting it approach him, then watch it trip and fall then stab it in the eye. That was really pathetic.

[color=gray]"One down, how many hundreds more to go,"[/color] he chuckled. 

His game of kill or be killed lasted an hour, an hour that quickly tested his stamina and endurance. Even for him, fighting off a horde of hundreds was a difficult task when they came continuously. Finally, after the sixty-seventh body fell, Nicodemus decided that he'd had enough fun for the day.

The only problem was, well, he was kinda surrounded.

[color=gray]"Woo-hoo-hoops,"[/color] he said, smiling slightly. Apparently, the building wasn't as cleared as he thought, and the escape routes he had counted on were slowly but surely getting blocked out by sheer numbers. [color=gray]"Well, this is going to be difficult."[/color]

He was tired. More tired than he had predicted. It wasn't fatigue, not yet, but it could quickly come to that if he didn't act quickly and decisively. First, he needed to buy some time. Second, he needed a way to get past the encirclement of zombies he was under. Simple, but easier said than done.

Looking down, Nic found himself staring at the bodies he had piled up. Well, one body in particular. Nicodemus picked up and dragged a riot policeman's' body with him inside the bathroom. Once inside, the first thing he did was barricade the door with whatever he had on hand, before he stripped it down, cut up the body and coated his clothes and the armor in blood before putting it on.

Then, he walked out.

His gamble paid off, and his scent was covered up by the blood he was bathed in. Practically jogging through the stairs, Nicodemus made his way out through the fire exit, picked up the supply cache he had stashed away. Then he began looking for Nikki. Despite his general disregard for human life, he honestly hoped she was fine. In fact, he probably would feel that way for any on his team. If they died, they died, but in the meantime, he preferred them alive. Call it sentimentality or whatever, but that was how he felt plain and simple.