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Violent-Medic
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Oh god, why had he done that?!

Well, if he wasn't going to talk calmly with Sandy when Sandy was being relatively chill—albeit, chill while holding a fucking molotov, and seriously why did everyone have an actual weapon but him? He wasn't going to engage in a chill conversation now that Sandy was legit pissed at him.

“I'm not getting out there! You get out there!” Danny yelled, still shuffling away.

He picked up a box from a nearby shelf, just in case Sandy stuck his head around the corner or something. But something inside made a skittering noise, so he immediately dropped it with a resounding crash.

“Aagh, what the fuck?”

Maybe Sandy wasn't blocking the door any more. Danny thought he'd heard him move. Maybe Danny could make a run for it. He started shuffling along the shelves towards the door, not really registering that stealth was kind of pointless after throwing boxes and yelling.
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