Kyle smiled at his rescuee, not moving for a moment as he watched the last of the patrol run back down the road the way they had come. He pulled his knife from it's sheath on his belt and sliced neatly through the ropes. He slid it back into the sheath and started back up the hill towards the rest of his gear.

"Kyle Blackie, Disaster Assistance Response Team, I'm a little bit further from home than you are. We'd better get moving, I think I heard a helicopter earlier."

Reaching his bag, he hefted it up onto his shoulder and headed back down the hill to replenish his spent ammunition. He dropped the half empty drum and picked up a pair of full drums to replace what he'd fired. He pulled the officers pistol from the lifeless hands of its owner and used it to finish off the handful of survivors, explaining his actions with "It's kinder than leaving them. There's really nothing we can do."

He made his way to the truck. Rather than looking in through the back he lifted the cover on the side with the barrel of the pistol.