Theres a time for everything...-(Any)

[Lt. Commander Irvine Wolf]

Move in and hold the zone until reinforcements arrive...

"Get this bastard off me! Gah!*gurgle*"

Easier said than done.

Irvine shot off a few more rounds hitting one in the chest twice bringing it down to a crawl, still moaning and crawling to kill whatever shot it. Irvine smirked, ducking behind the wall again reloading his firearm. He peered around the window again. *smash!* The window shattered open as one of the infected crashed though with an arm, screaming bloody murder at the top of its lungs swiping at Irvine's head with its fist. "Shit!" Irvine cursed pulling away from the window and glass shattered in his face He grabbed the 'Beast'(as he now called them) by the head and jerked it to the side cutting the creature's neck on the broken glass and cutting off the airflow.

Irvine keyed in on his radio. "Delta! Report in!" he said Firing a few more rounds through the window taking down three more. "3 KIA Sir! I'm sure how much longer we can held them off!" "Copy that!..." He confirmed. "Pulled back to the PT's and defend. Leave in 10." "Roger that sir!" It was much easier said than done. They're harder to kill than one might think. Just because you shoot them doesn't mean they drop and stop attacking. They keep moving ignoring the pain as if it were harsh wind. until you take out the key surviving functions they arnt going to stop coming for you.

He fired off a few more round and backed out the door to the back of the building. He ran his way through the offices and pushed over chairs and desks trying to slow down what was after him. Finally running through the halls coming to what looked like an exit the slowly opened the door and peered through.*smash!* the door was jerked from his grip and flung against his face, Infected walking towards him from every area of the room. He staggered backward and turned around heading for a separate room. He kicked the door open and shut it behind him. He was going to need to slow these beast done if he was going to at least make it out alive. He ran over to a desk and pulled it over in front of the door hoping to slow them down.

Where was he now? He slung his rifle over his shoulder and walked to the window and peered out. Third floor!? He let out a sigh. This wouldn't have happened if He would have watched where he was going and paying attention. Fear is one thing, Panic is another. Fear cant turn into bravery. Panic can only lead to stupidity...

*Bang! Bang! Bang!* They were coming through the door. They would be in any monument now. *Screech!* The Desk was sliding away from the door. He had no time. If he stayed in the room he would end up dead or become infected himself. *Ching!* Irvine flung himself out of the window to the back alley below. *crunch!* went Irvine's leg as he bounced off the garbage bin to the ground. He gripped his leg and let of a howl of pain. The infected in the room were confused. They had just seen the man enter the room and now he was gone. They exited the room walking back to the streets below.

Luckily for Irvine the infected had not entered the alleyway. The helped himself to his feet, grunting in pain as he did. He propped himself up on his rifle and used it for balance. Bad way to treat a weapon but he couldn't very well torture himself. Now...Where to go. The area back to the PT's were blocked and it was way past 10 minutes so they would have already left. He was stuck here... and his radio broke on impact.

The street was quiet. Then again he might have entered a safe area where the infected had not yet established themselves. He wasn't sure. He had been limping around for what seemed like hours upon hours when it had only been 2 hours. He was unfamiliar with New york so he was unsure which areas had not been infected. Hopefully he wasn't in one of those areas. Was there anyone left that was still sane? He thought sitting down on a bench in what looked like a food court.

[Michael John Pike]

Survivors? Survivors? Any survivors? The man questioned within himself, dull azure eyes scanning his apocalyptic surroundings of Long Island. His dirty strawberry blonde hair was tousled all along the top of his head, flakes of dirt and particles cascading along his sweat drawn face as he carried his calvary on him, dragging along the streets and scanning the sites for any sign of life. However, from the looks of it all, just as it had been for the longest time, no survivors.

"Damn it!" He screeched, fury engulfing his mental state. Michael Pike grabbed a half-broken bottle and chunked the rest of its glassy substance to a far way, exploding into millions of pieces and echoing a loud crash. He was growing impatient, desperate, and alone. The mind can only take so much from a disastrous situation such as this. He would gladly enjoy a dignifying death, and he found the only way to do so was to save a life of another. However, if there was no one to save, no way would Michael's protective and undying loyalty to self sacrifice ever be appeased.

He fumbled to the floor, face frustrated to the point of insanity. There has to be people alive here! Anyone to continue our evolution... something...! He cried to himself. He raised a hand and rubbed roughly downward along his face, as if trying to remove the mask of torture.

Everyone can't be gone! No... no its impossible. Not gone like a scorching flame... The tears outside were beginning to gather beneath his eyelids. He dug his face into his hands, tightening his fists, screaming inside over and over, This can't be real... there is no way I am alone here...!

"WHERE ARE YOU! YOU PIECES OF TRASH! COME ON OUT! COME AND GET ME!" He howled, thrashing out his weapons and peering around, staring down any shadow, and object, anything that he found out of the ordinary. That's when he did spot something rather... not ordinary.

Far in the distance, perched in the food court, looking rather exhausted and pushed to the limit, a man, possibly in uniform was sitting. A spark in Michael's dying heart pumped to the limit. He holstered his large gun and pushed himself, ignoring the torturing pain in his knees as he ran to the man. He looked bushed.

"S-Sir?! Are you alright! Do you need some help getting someone sir...?!" He was so nervous and desperate, his questions came in stutters. Finally... someone!

[Lt. Commander Irvine Wolf]

Irvine took a look down at his leg. Oh no...no no no NO NO NO! Not this..anything but this... he had broke his leg just at the shin and a small fragment of the bone was protruding from his pants leg and was slightly bleeding. It didn't look pretty...that was a fact. Thats what I get for jumping from 3 stories...he thought leaning back on the bench. Now that he saw the damage it actually hurt more. The pain was shooting up his leg. If that wasn't enough his shoulder was in pain from the landing. Surely it wouldn't be broken either...? He held onto his shoulder and slammed the back of it against the bench. His eyes shot open in pain. Nope...just dislocated... He let off a sigh. "Why did I leave Afghanistan?"

"S-Sir?! Are you alright! Do you need some help getting someone sir...?!"

Irvine quickly drew his pistol form his leg holster and pointed it in the direction of the voice. "Hold where you are!" he shouted firing a shot just in front of the mans feet. He grunted in pain as another shot coursed up his leg and to his shoulder. He hunched over resting his gun on the bench trying to regain himself. Why would the Infected ask if I was alright...?...Idiot...
"Okay get over here..." he grunted in pain motioning him over with his gun. If this man did try anything threatening, Irvine would have no problem shooting him in the face."It my leg... Its broke at the shin." he said, pointing at it with his gun.

"Are there any survivors around?" He asked. "It seems this whole place has gone quiet since my unit pulled out...I think I'm the only one left here..."

[Michael John Pike]

"Hold where you are!" Michael was thrown backward at the swift movement of the fighter's pistol drawn from the holster and in Michael's direction. A warning shot first and he halted in his tracks. An instant trigger ignited in his brain, which caused a twitter of anger. You fire at me when I try to save you...! How hospitable. However, the wave of rage left as quick as it came, especially when the wounded soldier retreated his firearm and called Michael to drawn in closer. Like the loyal man, he followed quickly to the order.

"Are there any survivors around?" Hell if Michael knew. However, he hoped with every part of his soul that the two were not alone in this desolate plain of death. He immediately turned to the man's main wound. A heavily shattered bone. There was no way this man was to make it on foot in this place alone. "I haven't found any survivors. You're my first actually..." His dead azure eyes hazed over with a emotion of defeat. However, Michael was relieved to find someone. "At least you're alive..." Michael gave a friendly tap on Irvine's better shoulder.

"The name's Michael. Michael Pike. What about you soldier?" He asked.

[Lt. Commander Irvine Wolf]

"I haven't found any survivors. You're my first actually..."

So what he was seeing was reality. There really was no one around. It could just be an area of neutrality. He didn't know. Maybe the sound of the gunfire pushed the survivors away. Still there was no way to tell but to happen upon them. Luckily Michael was proof there was hope yet. "I was afraid of that...We tried to take the waterway but with no luck...hence my being here and like this..."

"At least you're alive..."
"Alive..." he said to himself as he thought back on the past few hours. He went from the the bridge docks, to a mile within the city, to a large building, from fighting in the building, to fleeing in the building, to jumping out of the building, Breaking his leg and dislocating his shoulder, to missing his ride out, to now being stuck deeper in the city, at night. "At least..." he said with grin, shaking his head back and forth as he felt around on his leg for anything else that might be out of whack.

"The name's Michael. Michael Pike. What about you soldier?"

Well he cant be infected. He actually has name. " Lt. Commander-Irvine Wolf. First division SEAL unit." He said he looked over to him and leaned up extending a bloody hand. "Good to meet you Michael. Are you alone out here? Any more in your division that you've heard from?" he asked. He hoped there were other about looking for survivors. If not...things could get very interesting. He unbuttoned his digital camo shirt and tore a few strips from his undershirt. "Do me a favor. Push in on both sides of the bone and join em together. Don't worry about me. Just push em in and reset things. It feels like it could be shattered but the more I fix it now the better I'll be later. Take this and wrap it around my shin to keep it still." He said handing him the torn shirt. Any pain he felt during the process would be well worth it later if it meant him walking straight in the future...

[Dr. Nathaniel Zimmer]

OOC: Hope it's okay if I stick Nathaniel in here with the boys ))

A conference. A Pediatrics Conference on Long Island. That was all he was supposed to be here for. Now, Nathaniel Zimmer was a nervous man as is so he thought that the actual airplane flight would have been the most nervewracking of his experience. Sure there was being in a foreign place and not exactly knowing the culture all that well along with meeting new people, but he had been certain that nothing would compare to how scared he would be when in flight... He was wrong.

He had been in the lobby of his hotel heading toward the elevator when he heard the screams. Freshly back from the conference in his nice sweater vest and dress pants he peered over his shoulder expecting to see perhaps an excitable child playing tricks behind the busboy's rolling luggage carrier. Once again the intelligent man had been VERY wrong.

He saw a woman being torn into by a man, the tendons of her neck being pulled out as he brutally assaulted her while snarling and growling. This caused everyone to yell and scream as then the attacker got up and moved to the next person. Next thing Nathaniel knew the woman was up on her feet and attacking another patron. He had simply no idea what was going on and instinctually he frozen for a few long seconds. People ran yelling and screaming past him, two men made it into the elevator and dragged the stunned Nathaniel inside.

He watched with horror as one of the infected snapped it's head around at the elevator's 'ding' and then started to race toward them. The man next to Nathaniel was pleading with god panicked as he continuously pressed the 'close doors' button over and over again. Closer. Closer. A mere two inches away and the doors closed. Silence. The sound of elevator music as the screams turned to muffles and then silence.

'Ding'. The doors opened again to reveal an empty hall. His hallway of his room. Both men spoke hurriedly to one another as they ran but Nathaniel tuned them out, still in shock. Without thinking, like a zombie himself (ironically enough), he stumbled to his room. Fumbling inside he nearly fell three times. He moved to the window on one end of his suite, opened it. There was a fire, people being attached in the streets, sceams. Still dazed.. He closed it. He knew he wasn't thinking straight but he needed to get out of this room. He grabbed his 'man bag' as it had been termed and shoved various belongings into it. He wanted to get back home, back to Europe. How? He wasn't sure, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

Moving to the other end of the suite he opened the window again. Now it was quiet. The streets were empty other than the smoke and the scent of blood (which Nathaniel knew well, being a doctor). Hesitantly he made his way out onto the fire escape which was rather difficult given his lanky frame, also he was scared of heights. His shakey hands clasped the railing and step by quiet step, trying to avoid creaks, he made his way down. It took a good ten minutes and he felt about ready to faint or vomit the entire way. Finally his loafer clad feet met with pavement. A scream in the distance... More silence.

He made his way past broken down store windows, burning trash cans, glass and debris in the streets. As he rounded a corner he longed for a good cup of tea. That's when he heard it. Shrieks from the infected, screams from scared victims, and gun shots. In absolute fear Nathaniel ducked behind an abandoned newspaper vendor's booth and clung his bag to his chest for some sort of comfort. The lanky pediatrician trembled and shook, shutting his eyes tight as he listened to the ruckus. If the end was coming, let it come fast. But it didn't seem to end. It went on for a long painful ten minutes until finally.. There was quiet. At least for a little while.

"WHERE ARE YOU! YOU PIECES OF TRASH! COME ON OUT! COME AND GET ME!"

"Oh god. Oh god." The frightened man repeated over and over from where he was hiding, beginning to rock slightly in his own fear. His long fingers clutched to his belongings and he suddenly wished he had skipped the conference (no matter how enlightening it had been).

[Michael John Pike]

"Any more in your division that you've heard from?" That was a bit of a throw back for Michael. His almost physically pushed himself back from the surprise of his question. Division? It looked like Irvine had expecting the SEALS to have sent more agents to this area. If this was true, they had either been slaughtered, unwillingly joining the rank of the enemy, or, they pleaded for a way out as the two spoke now. Michael shook his head, "Unfortunately... I am of no division. I'm... just a low class police officer." The job he had before... the madness was nothing to him now. It gave him nothing in return, nothing but a horrible, tearing conscious. If I never had been at work... I probably would've died at that house... with everyone else... just like a family should. He said with a depressing, morbid voice. Suddenly, his blue dull eyes seemed to be sucked in the black hole of the past. Vesper...

Do you really have to leave today baby. Can't you just stay home? He heard her sweet voice hum in his ear like silk.

Its alright babe. Everything will be fine. His lips tingled at the memory of her lips surge pleasure through his entire body at just a little kiss.

The memory so sweet... so well placed in his mind. It was a heaven he would continuously return to in this small world of enormous chaos. The sight of his three children, talented beyond all measure. Sometimes he could hear the faint tune of "Fur Elise" magically play in the background, a favorite piano melody of one of his twins
"Do me a favor. Push in on both sides of the bone and join em together.

Michael snapped back. His face showed a soft stunted gaze, but he quickly regained composure of himself and glanced downward to Irvine wrap, then to the protruding bone. "Sure..." He answered. He knelt down, however the travel to the floor was a torture, and he issued an old moan as he crashed to the floor on his knees and like a bullet, the wound became more gruesome. It was incredible what a change an angles can do, especially a wound. He raised his hand slowly to the broken bone and didn't spend to much time arguing over if this was the right thing to do. "Okay... here we go..."

He powerfully pressed onto the bone and began his best to mend the damage. He heard the squish of his insides contradict with the protruding bone. Blood escaped and squirted, but Michael continued. He didn't bother asking if Irvine was alright. It was clear this was not a comfortable procedure, and it was best to get it over and done as quickly as possible, to avoid more torture on the man, no matter how much he said he could take it.

When Michael noticed the bone was more aligned into his body, Michael swiped the tie and tightly wrapped it around his wound. Over and over, it went around the man's shin. With a final finishing touch, he tied it viciously tight, and Michael guessed a surge of pain from the force would travel to Irvine. "There sir..." He said softly.

[Lt. Commander Irvine Wolf]

"Unfortunately... I am of no division. I'm... just a low class police officer."

Just? What is this Just? To Irvine a Police officer was one of the most important people in The U.S.A. They're the ones who are actually on the front lines everyday putting their lives on the line. "Listen Mikey...Just because your a low class Police officer, doesn't mean you are less important than me. There's no such thing as a low class officer...you keep doing what your doing...your grade A in my book..." he said hoping to eliminate the slight pessimism Michael seemed to have about himself.

"Okay... here we go..."
Irvine held his breath at that. Irvine let out a yell of pain so loud and terrorizing, the nearby birds flew away. Bones pierced through muscle, tissue, and other bones as Michael realigned his leg. More blood seeped out where the bone pierced the skin. It was agonizing and excruciating all at once. "Gah! Dammit! Hah! Haaaah!" He shouted out as Michael finished up and began wrapping it tight. As Michael pulled the wrapping tight the surge of pain shot up through his body, starting at his shin and ending up at his right shoulder. "GAAAAAH!" He shouted pounding his fist against the bench. "Ha....ho that smarts...heh....ha...hahahaha!" He said gradually coming to a laugh as the pain faded. It was his own personal way to take his mind off the pain. It didn't work well..."Thanks..."

Irvine's ears picked up a faint sound...
"Oh god. Oh god."

"What the hell was that....Help me up..." he said grabbing onto Michael's shoulder. "Over there..." he said pointing to a newspaper stand. He picked up his rifle and started limping over towards the newspaper stand. Rounding the corner he pointed and aimed the rifle at the first thing he saw.

[Michael John Pike]

Michael, unfortunately, didn't accept the compliment, however kept the personal opinion to himself. Being a police officer kept me from the people I loved and cherished. What difference did I make as an officer. I pulled over drunks and stopped speeding vehicles. All that "progress" was for nothing, in vain, for the people I saved are probably scattered on the pavement or blindly after my life. He gave Irvine a weary smile and his dull eyes returned with nothing but loss.

Michael listened to the terrifying howl and screeches as he formed together the bone again. It was not a pretty sight, but it had to be done. When finally finished, and the terror was over, he sat up slowly, lifting himself up from his knees, and put a hand on Irvine's shoulder and gave a long look. "No problem." He paused. "As much as laughing may seem the good idea, in a way, it seems never to work." He gave a weary little chuckle.

"What the hell was that....Help me up..." He watched the soldier perch up slowly. He allowed the man to use him as a stand to get up. He quickly followed behind, very confused as to what was occurring at this moment. "Irvine? What's wrong?" He asked softly. When the man drew his firearm, Michael followed after, grabbing his AK-47 from behind his back and in front, sight prepared. When they turned the corner, Michael covered, aiming his own weapon at whatever threat was here.

[Dr. Nathaniel Zimmer]

The Pediatrician cringed and practically burried his face into the bag he had so hastily grabbed when in his hotel suite for that fleeting moment. He was going through every prayer in the book, running through each verse in his head and even a few hymns which he had taken to quietly saying beneath his breath as the threatening footsteps grew closer and closer.

He had been a good Catholic boy, his single mother brought him to church each Sunday morning in Oxford, and yet now he found himself praying to God that he actually existed so if this was his end it wouldn't be all bad. Perhaps the words fell on death ears, perhaps he just wasn't saying them loudly enough but currently, he didn't have the courage to. He was a doctor and even he had been frightened by all of the death, destruction, and chaos that he had witnissed in the last half hour. It was all happening so fast. Nathaniel hated change and this was so drastic that he was about ready to burst into tears despite his years.

His long arms wrapped even more tightly around his bag as though he was a child and it was his teddy bear. His only means of comfort. Nathaniel was a lover not a fighter. He doted upon children, tending to their stuffy noses and broken limbs, not to this bloody catastrophe. He wasn't bred for such rough housing, such loudness, such mess. He hated mess! He liked everything just so. This would be a crash course for him in every aspect of the phrase.

The footsteps were unbarably close now and Nathaniel felt his eyelids squeeze shut as his whole body tensed into a little ball, prepping itself for what horror was to come. That's when he felt the cool metal against the side of his temple and though it hadn't been the assault he had been expecting, it certainly wasn't any better.

His hazel eyes shot open and instinctively he panicked letting out a gasp mixed in with a cry as he leapt to his lanky feet and stumbled into the back of the newstand which caused him to lose his balance and slide onto the floor of the booth. "Don't shoot." He begged, every part of him trembling including his jaw. Legs sprawled, bag still clung in his arms, a look of utter horror on his face.

"P-P-Please don't shoot." Nathaniel begged with a whimper, shifting a bit managing to nudge himself into the corner of the newstand looking up to the two men who were both dirty and looked none the happier having found him. Of course who could blame them given all that had happened, even so Nathaniel wasn't exactly processing information correctly and all he knew was fear and that there were people... Beings out there who wanted nothing more than to harm him.

Now there was another weapon aimed at him (Nathaniel didn't know the kind but it was an AK47) and his eyes bulged even more out of his head. "Please don't!" He reitterated, trying his best to push his case while not drawing any more 'infected' to where they were by being too loud. Still, even though he could tell these two weren't dangerous in the infectious sort of way they were still holding guns toward him so he didn't make a move to stand.

[Lt. Commander Irvine Wolf]

"Irvine? What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure...." He said. "Either its a priest wishing to meet God or an infected wishes to be redeemed. Either way I can oblige..." He said Pulling back the bolt on his assault rifle, ready for whatever he might encounter.

"Don't shoot."
Seeing the man on the ground clutching his bag was almost a relief. Almost...
Personally Irvine wanted to kill something. He was on the verge of pulling the trigger when he stopped himself. No...no it would be right...I'm not going to take out my anger for the pain on someone innocent... He though to himself lowering the barrel of the weapon to the man's neck instead of his head. Hey it was a step....

"P-P-Please don't shoot."
Thats just Irritating... he thought to himself before he leaned in and grabbed the mans bag and jerked it from his grasp and through it to the side. He grabbed the man by the collar and hauled him to his feet forcefully. "Get up..." he said in a stern commanding voice. Realizing that this man was defiantly not one of the infected as he did not attack him he could lower his weapon more. Which he did... "Your in good hands... Gah! Dammit!" he shouted in pain before stumbling against the side of the Newspaper stand. The pain had Shot up his leg again.

[Michael John Pike]

Michael, as he turned the corner, felt his heart race and his body shudder. Along with Irvine, Pike carried the same need for bloodshed, however, whenever it came to another in need, his compassion for the weak went immediately into play. Shoot to kill, save people to live... He said himself, closing a single eye as he stared powerfully strong into his guns scope. He watched Irvine twist and a moment later, the strawberry blonde ex-police officer follower after, eye peering like daggers at the unexpected guest.

"Don't shoot." He was suddenly staring at an innocent man, shivering within himself and terrified out of his wits. Michael's cold heart melted quickly, and his warm passion and loyalty to another's safety shifted into gear. He lowered his weapon quickly. Letting it perch back on his back, he drew in slightly to help the man up.

However, he was interrupted in his moment as savior. He watched Irvine grab the shivering other to his feet, jerking him like a ragdoll with a ignorant child. Michael's heart flew to his throat, watching the small spectacle unfold. His mind buzzed with madness. Who does he think he is...?! He yelled. Treating an innocent like a prisoner of war... Michael's mind headed for the deep end. He was just about to say something, but in this moment, he watched the soldier pull back in pain and watched him stumble. Michael pumped himself forward to help the wounded fighter, grabbing one of the man's arm's and slinging it over his shoulder. Then, looking at Nathaniel, he said soothingly. "Your alright...? We didn't mean to scare you... its just been a rough day for all of us." He commented.

[Dr. Nathaniel Zimmer]

The gun of one man was still making contact with his skin and Nathaniel could feel his entire body tense up. These men were sick and crazy like the others, afterall, they weren't ripping into his flesh but that certainly didn't make them any kinder either. Were they really going to shoot him? Kill him? Was this how the United States really was? He had heard the stories but never in a billion years would he have guessed this was the kind of situation he would find himself in. How he longed to go back home. Back to Oxford, it was quiet there. It was safe.

"Please don't kill me." Nathaniel begged in a quivering voice as he shifted about in his seated straddled position on the floor. He felt ill, like he was going to vomit. They knew that he wasn't a danger, how could he be all curled up on the floor like he was yet they still seemed to wish to harm him! What kind of country was this?!

As his precious bag and the last of his belongings was grabbed by Wolf, Nathaniel's large hands grasped frantically at the fabric not willing to let go but Wolf was a bit stronger and eventually won out. Nathaniel stared up at the man with horror struck hazel eyes, his heart racing. Were they going to rob him then kill him? Or kill him then rob him? Either scenario wasn't all that pleasing to the Pediatrician. He didn't have time to think on it further however for soon he was grabbed by the collar of his white button up shirt (still clean despite his ordeal) and was yanked right to his feet. And so the lanky Brit had no choice but to stand, at these men's mercy.

So they were going to help him? Nathaniel could only blink then cringe when the mean, angry man let out a loud cry of pain. Nathaniel Zimmer hated loud sounds and he fell quiet. He was also a doctor, though for children, and such basic injuries were already easily diagnosed by him. He was interupted momentarily from these deductions by the kinder man's words.

"You're alright...? We didn't mean to scare you... its just been a rough day for all of us."

"Not very well in the slightest." Nathaniel responded quietly with a sickly sort of half smile before nodding toward Irvine. "I'm a doctor. If we can get to a place where we can stay still I can take a look..." His voice trailed off as the distant sound of trash cans being knocked to the floor echoed the outdoor foodcourt. Nathaniel's eyes widened as he looked over his shoulder toward the direction of the sound.

Oh god... Were they coming this way?

[Lt. Commander Irvine Wolf]

Irvine could hardly breath. The pain that coursed up his leg was immeasurable by words, so trying wasn't worth it. He gripped his leg in reflex trying to cut it off but it didn't help. Landing on the NYC waterways, pushing deep into infected territory, being chased through a building buy death hungry infects, jumping out of a window and breaking (possibly shattering) his leg,...It was all apart of the job...unfortunately. But he wouldn't trade a minute of it. It was what he loved doing. He had trained in hand to hand combat, spent hours at the rifle range, fought in hazardous situations in the middle east and elsewhere, and he loved every minute of it. Unfortunately being a battle hardened soldier, came with a price for others. His background sure didn't help either. He could be quiet violent and vocal when pushed or when in pain. He wasn't one to let a lie slip from someones mouth without it being fed back down the others throat...he had interrogated enough people to know when they were lying...and he didn't let that fact slip past their mind. However he had a soft spot that always reminded him why he did what he did, and it was for people like Nathaniel...

He limped over to he bag he had thrown using his rifle as a sort of walking stick. He knelt down and picked up and walked it back over to Nat. He held it out to him. "Sorry...This hasn't been my day for warm welcomes..." he said nodding an apology. It was easy for Irvine to say this. He did like combat, even if it was a good roughing up another person. But if it was Irvine that was in the wrong he was always quick to apologize.

"I'm a doctor. If we can get to a place where we can stay still I can take a look..."

"Thats the best thing I've heard all day, I would say further in would be a good idea. In a Hotel perhaps...or an apartment, on the top floor. Its less likely we'll encounter any Infected there..." He said. Then the noises came..."Mikey...Can I lean on you while I run....?" he asked, already limping, slowly, deeper, into the city waiting for the other to start running before he sped up.