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Looks like he wasn't going to die today. Well, maybe today, just not right now - and what more could a guy want, really? A gun? Actually, yeah - he could use one of those. Maybe a bulletproof vest, too, considering Jerry motherfuckin' Fury is packin'. A helmet would be nice, too. And while he was at it, maybe someone could just send a helicopter here so he could just leave. A helicopter with a bed, preferably. Fuck, was he tired.

Naturally, he wasn't going to get any of those things. Not easily, anyways. But it didn't hurt to hope, did it?

"Okay, uh, shit, uh.. it's not who think, it's fucking Alvaro. He just killed two people. Fuck, I was right there, man.. he could've gotten me." Truth be told, he wasn't feeling all that good. Maybe it was the running. Maybe it was Sandy's rotting corpse, his friends dying - probably a combination of all three, to be honest. He sat down on the grass, the adrenaline starting to leave him. Just narrowly avoiding death made him feel relieved, more than anything else. Alvaro could've gotten him, but he didn't. He only had himself to thank for that - himself and Alvaro's grade A marksmanship.

Fuck, was he tired.

"Wonder if that bell tower has any.. fuckin' chairs in it, or something."
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Ain't nobody got time for this · The Bell Tower