Emanuel "Manny" Newman
Location: Wewahitchka C4 -> D6 (Road)
If there was something Manny has always had problems with it was holding his tongue. Normally this was an issue in his youth when he would get into fights with neighborhood kids. Or it was an issue with people who ran hate groups and as Manny would put it, he was 'Giving them a reason to [Insert action(s) here]'. Where he would promptly be reminded how that isn't a good thing. But in this case it was pure lack of self control over the last working rubber duck on the planet. Despite Manny's professional demeanor he couldn't help but blurt out a brief laugh at Thalia's struggles against the tape covered squeaking duck. For a moment the old dentist thought his heart would stop just trying to contain his laughter. Despite not blurting out again the amusement still seemed to struggle to be contained. He would work to keep it in though as Thalia could probably find where he sleeps at night. He stopped pretty fast at that thought. "Sorry. That was... Very unprofessional and not normally like me. Wont happen again." He promised knowing he had no idea if it would or not.
Now, Manny moved up shotgun in hands. Though the more he thought about it the more he wondered if the people in the helicopter were hostile. What would their rag tag group do against someone with a helicopter and most likely firepower to protect it? Could they do much other then brief suppression fire? He questioned if they could do that though either. What if they had to run? How far could they go with the gear they had? Or the wounded they had despite their amazing efforts in recovery? How far could they get if Manny's stamina ran out while running? Would the others risk their lives for him? Or once he knew he couldn't keep up could he slip into the shadows and try to buy some time?
Another thing to consider was, what if these people were friendly? What if these people were able to help them? What if they had a decent medical setup and supplies to make a colony work? What if... just if... they had real beds to sleep on. Manny told himself it was for the chance to help another community, but a real bed to sleep on was a great motivator too. He picked up speed now, staying as hidden as he could but the group was struggling and at their rate it was only a matter of time before someone else died. This needed to happen now. Then he saw it. The helicopter. And he stopped in his tracks. He saw... people. He couldn't tell how many, but there were a lot. At first glance maybe more then the four the group he was in had. He was tempted to wave, but he was scared of being shot at. So he just stood there in the middle of the road, in fear, unable to react to what he was seeing.
Private Hunter James Monroe
Location: Wewahitchka D8
Hunter saw the gunner talking. He didn't get a word of what he said though, mostly looking at the gun on the side and thinking how cool it would be to use some of Uncle Sam's hardware again. He also thought that if things got sour he should probably shoot the gunner first. Though when the old man spoke again Hunter got names. Even though Hunter got the names, took note of them, and started making a mental catalog of these new people, he was hearing about food. God what he would do for something edible right now. Though he looked at the dog wrapped on his leg understanding that Hunter was tense. She was hungry too. She probably needed at least as much food as Hunter did, and they both have been without for days.
When Hunter snapped back to reality he pieced some of this weird puzzle together. Then Hunter was asked about the MANY new people showing up. "Can't say I know them. I figured the ones I saw before were with you? If that's not the case I hope their friendly. Or you actually have bullets in that turret." He had seen people threaten with empty guns before. He found it sad. But whatever, natural selection and all that shit. "You never know about new people. I've seen all sorts of tricks used. Once I saw someone use kittens. Too bad they were stupid." Hunter vaguely remembers removing a head that day with a hatchet.
Hunter was still hesitant to trust anyone military. Though he still carried an old uniform he wasn't wearing it now. But Maddog made it clear he was military by the way he asked for one of the new people's name and rank. Almost out of instinct Hunter responded, stopping himself before he could say anything. They had a last name, they didn't need more then that. But the soldier called out had a lot to say. Army as well. Hunter wondered if he could make an ally of him. Or if he would be like his old unit near the start of this mess. Then Hunter would need a way to dispose of him too. Granted, he had bullets and he had guns. He also had Izibell who despite being the cutest dog ever could 100% eat someone's testicles off. Though now it looked like instead of a potential 4 to 1, it could be as many as 30 to 1 if things kept going the way they were going. He would need to trust someone otherwise he wouldn't survive a fight with anyone. The helicopter people had a chance to gun him down, but didn't. Maybe they wanted more information from him incase he was apart of a group with lootable supplies. Oh well, too late now to run.