Folion

'Blah... um...' Ruben sat there in shock, his rifle held in white knuckles as he futily attempted to acknowledge the fact that there was someone else still alive in New York City, much less, the man who appeared as an almost Ramo-ish God-like savior had saved his life.

'Holy shit!' He heard Mark yell in utter disbelief. 'Your aim is Godly Ruben! GODLY!'

'Wasn't me!' Ruben called back, before turning to the intimidating, weapon-happy man before him. 'Hello Logan. First of all, I can't even begin to describe what I'm feeling as to seeing another survivor besides Mark, down there.' His thumb pointed down the hall. 'And secondly, we're holed up here because we both agree that it's not worth risking our hides just to look for other survivors. Selfish? Perhaps. But when your life is on the line, making a decision like that becomes a little... hard to make.'

He shrugged as Mark came crawling in, crouched down, hugging his weapon to his chest as he goggled at this unknown newcomer with weapons strapped to his ass (not literally). 'He the one that took all those running bastards down? Without having to knock any of 'em down?'

'Yeah.'

'Amazing.' He whispered. 'Do you play paintball?' Mark asked.

'Not the time.' Ruben spoke, silencing his partner. He turned back to Logan and held his hand out. 'You're free to speak now.'

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