[h3][center] [color=fff79a]June[/color] and [color=6ecff6]Mallory[/color] [/center] [/h3]

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June stumbled inside, eyes wide as Mallory was dragged inside by a scruffy looking American. June grabbed her stunned friend by the shoulders and dragged her away from the door. Both of them would be dead were it not for the kindness of these strangers. Something something, human condition, something something, what do we owe to each other. Either way, she was glad to be safe from the marauding madmen on the other side of that security door. 

Mallory, numb, leaned against the bag wall and sat down, clutching her knees to her chest and staring at the floor. June frowned, patted her on the knee and promised to return. There were people to talk too. She decided to ignore the bumbling man that had to be restrained, the one who almost killed Mallory by closing that door.

[color=fff79a]"Merci, merci, merci."[/color] She thanked the security guard with the pistol, her voice cracking. Despite her inner cynicism, he was truly a good man to put himself at risk. She also turned to the blonde woman and dirty blonde man. [color=fff79a]"Merci! Thank you, monsieur, madame. We died without you."[/color] Her english was heavily accented and flawed, but the ideas were hopefully conveyed. The events of the last two minutes were hitting her in waves. The french woman staggered over to Mallory and slid down next to her, breathing heavily. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, trying to calm down.

[color=fff79a]"C'est de la folie. Je ne peux pas croire cette merde!"[/color] She swore, letting her bloody shower rod clatter to the floor. She wiped tears away from her eyes. She was alive. Alive and save for now. Relief and dread for the things to come washed over. Mallory was not processing the events at all, staring with glazed eyes to the floor. Hopefully she snapped out of it soon, she was the far greater english speaker of the two. June just tried to relax and tried to pick up what she could from the conversation.