At the tender age of 19, Gabriel should have been drafted to join the war, though thankfully for him, it was nearing a close when he came of age. Instead, he was sent to do missionary work along with the other Mormons of his age, and that was how he ended up in Champaign, just before the start of all the... everything. Having never held a weapon, Gabriel cowered underneath furniture, ducking beneath rubble in hopes nothing caught him. He wasn't exactly sure what was out and about. In fact, he had never seen it. The people around though certainly acted like something was happening.

Gabriel had clutched several copies of his bible, some taken from the body of his late friend, killed by one of the whatevers that he didn't catch sight of because really, how could he know what one of them looked like? On top of that, bandits and looters which may or may not have actually been present before the whole happening, though the police raids and such following the lock down was certainly not something Gabriel was waiting for.

At that moment, he was holed up inside a hospital. He wasn't in there originally. In fact, he had leapt from one building to that one, doing a spin, the athleticism his dance training provided being a great asset as he climbed into an open window. Stealing was definitely not something Gabriel had the heart to do, though if nobody was inside, he reasoned that would simply be scavenging. After all, he was hungry and who knew when he would need first aid, not that he would be able to provide it to himself given circumstances.