[hr][hr][center][h1][color=DC143C]Dexter Sterling[/color][/h1][/center][hr][hr]
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[quote][right][indent][b]●   Location:[/b] Hoganville, Troup County
[b]●   Time:[/b] Morning-Afternoon
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     Dexter's boots struck the uneven ground one after the other, his lungs pounding steadily between every other stride. Dexter did his best to pace himself, expression wrought with determination, and he counted beneath each breath. He was close to heel behind the others as they made their way to the unusual vehicle a short distance from where they were now.

He positioned himself behind the others intentionally as they ran, gambling that if the strangers shot at them – either Jaime or Richard would go down first from the gunfire. There wasn't any nobility in dying here, not now, Dexter thought apathetically. He nearly had the opportunity to weigh his subconscious decision when the sharp crack of a rifle resonated through the open air. Dexter flinched, ducking slightly seemingly long after the shot had already gone off.

Dexter's mind began to sink back into reality as he straightened up and looked towards the truck ahead. There was some shouting from one of the guys in front of him, but in Dexter's ears the words were muffled and unrecognizable. Oh fuck. Dexter's eyes flicked from walkers some distance away and back to the truck where he could make out a figure ahead – which was torn back into a fray of unforgiving monsters. Dexter didn't get a good look, he just saw a person. A living person, trying to protect them. One moment they were there, and then they were gone.

Richard was ahead of them now, closing the distance between himself and their way out. Dexter didn't try to match the man's speed, instead keeping his pace and his eyes open for any looming walkers that could reach his path. Drops of rain bit into his face bitterly as he crossed the slick gravel, and his shoulders were heavy from his soaked clothing and backpack. Still, he pressed on unencumbered as his boots carried him further and further with each step.

[b]"[/b] [color=6ecff6][b]You've got this, amigo! Vomonos![/b][/color] [b]"[/b] Jaime was at the truck now, calling out towards Dexter briefly. He looked over his shoulder instinctively, expecting the earth to be falling into oblivion beneath his heels. Fortunately, it was not.

Dexter reached Buster finally, gripping the frame aft of one of the doors. He raised a foot hastily and lifted himself on the step, swinging into the cab of the truck. He landed into one of the open seats uncomfortably, his pack pressed between the seat and his back. Dexter's eyes were wide and alarmed, darting all over the place as he was still jacked with adrenaline.

Finally, his eyes rested on the unfamiliar figure in the driver's seat – Dexter leaned forward, putting a hand on the shoulder of the seat with the utmost urgency, [b]"[/b] [color=DC143C][b]For the love of God, do you have a cigarette?[/b][/color] [b]"[/b]
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