[i]Abel O'Connell[/i]

“Search that poor dead fucker.” Abel yelled, forced to by the loud symphony of undead groaning. “If we're really lucky he has a key... These riot cops used tear gas during the riots as well. If he's got any canisters on him maybe we can use them to cause some sort of distraction?”

Abel now had a gun in each hand. 14 rounds altogether. That much potential for death literally in the palm of his hands and it still couldn't do him any good. Or could it?

“If our bacon friend here doesn't have that crap on him, maybe we could shoot at those cars down there?" He signaled towards the street he had previously sprinted down with the barrel of the .38 revolver. "One of them has to still have enough juice in for the alarm to work... I'm not the greatest shot though. You?”

Abel laughed at himself inwardly. For all his past criminal actions he'd still never had all that much opportunity to learn to shoot. Then again he supposed most criminals didn't. Sure as shit would have helped if he'd gone to a range once or twice though.