In reply to Dominic Dubreton (msg # 6):

When the roof fell Cauldershore had already moved to Dominic's side and successfully avoided being crushed. "Oh God almighty! Please see us through this!" He cried out, holding his hands to the sky. The Brit surveyed the group of people around him were making for the fire escape. "Dominic! Dominic!" Cauldershore grabbed Dominic's sleeve. "Where's Nevada!?! She's not here! She wasn't with Bohannon! Where is She!?" Cauldershore was hysterical. "We can't leave without her!!"

Hearing the screech of tearing metal, Dom barely made it out of the way as a large section of the factories roof came guillotining down; The medic holding the woman he was currently supporting in the now knee high water protectively close, not that his body would have proved much of a shield if they’d been hit by half a ton of galv steel.
A quick glance told him that thankfully nobody had been injured or more likely killed by the falling roof, but it had resulted in Karen and the Bohannon Brothers being cut off from the rest of the group “Get out of here mes amis, we’ll meet you by the gate...if not we’ll find you in the morning” Dom shouted after the brothers as they disappeared into the night.
Although the electrics had long since died they were still able to see the running man sign using what little light they had with them; the push bar on the door below thankfully devoid of the chains that would have  spelled their doom.  It was as he was moving to open the door that he felt someone take hold of his arm; the man he eventually recognised as being Cauldershore asking him in a hysterical where Nevada was with a note of panic in his voice.
Turning his head to look back the way they’d came Dominic searched the darkness for any sign of the girl come on Nevada...if you’re going to scream for help now’s the time to do it He silently pleaded before accepting that the black maths was right and that they had to go on without her “I am sorry Mon ami, we’ve got to get out of here before the whole place falls on top us…we’re no good to her dead!” he shouted so as to be heard over the hammering rain and the thunderous crashing of yet more falling steelwork “...She’s probably already outside waiting for us, Now help me get this damn door open before we all drown” he said hoping that he was right and that the girl really was outside waiting for them somewhere but not holding out much hope. The group was already scattered enough as it was and he couldn’t send somebody out into that hell looking for a girl that could already be dead, it had been bad enough sending Lorenzo to get the food let alone sending someone on what could be a suicide mission.
Moving Izzy so that she could lean against the wall Dominic moved over to the fire escape and bracing his feet the best he could against the slick concrete floor beneath him started to push against the door hoping that the others would come to his aid and help him get the damn thing open before it was too late.

In reply to Lorenzo (msg # 7):

"Fuck off, beaner, this isn't any of your concern." Sam remarked, then gritting his teeth, annoyed with Lorenzo's interruption. If he'd had fangs he would have bared them such was his territorial disposition. The large Southerner's attention turned to the younger man, eyes remorseless yet with a glint of amusement.

New Mexico continued to struggle beneath Sam's grip, the underwater struggle intensifying as the teen's supply of air dissipated further. Sam's own bowie knife rested in its sheathe, unbuttoned for ease of access, the heavy metal slung at his waist.  "You think you have the balls? Fuckin' Spic." The surly Southern gentry spat a discolored wad of saliva mixed with what was hopefully chewing tobacco right in Lorenzo's direction.

"Why don't you go fuck your little friend Lizzie. HA!" Sam spat with his words once more, laughing dryly. "Your little girlfriend is getting his just deserves."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:07, Tue 27 Oct 2015.

In reply to Dominic Dubreton (msg # 13):

Isabelle had been in need of Dominic's assistance, and was grateful for his speedy efforts to whisk her away from debris and the elements. She had her wits about her, but could not move apace with everyone else. When Dominic set her down to push open the door, she even lent a hand, setting her one good foot into the concrete like her rescuer and putting whatever grit she could summon into the effort to free the lot of them.

Mahmoud strode through the rising water towards the group at the doorway, emerging from the darkness, rifle slung over his back with a soaked through pack of whatever he could gather before it was time to make a break for the exit. His features were contorted with worry though there was no panic in them, rather that focus he'd been developing over the many months since joining the group way back when.

A knowing look to their new de facto leader the good doctor and Mahmoud was about to join his weight to the heavy door, weighed by the rush of water. It was hard to miss Cauldershore's outburst of hysteria, and seeing as Dominic was having enough on his plate, duly assisted in this matter.

Raising his right hand Mahmoud delivered a sharp slap to Cauldershore's grizzled face, "If you don't help get this door open then she'll be as dead as we are. Now move it!"

Shocked by the swift strike to the face, Cauldershore moved into action. He added his weight to the force acting against the fire door. Surely the combined effort would be enough to spring the door. His heart was breaking for the friends surely lost to the flood, but there was nothing left to do for them now. Staying would only secure the Caravan's demise.

The raging flood water outside the Big House engulfed the entire area. It was a flowing river and the Caravan was right in it. When the door is opened, the fleeing Caravan shall have to find safety, and each other.

[Bill and Gary join the effort to push open the door. Spring the door whenever you're ready and "take 'er away."]

In reply to Sam (msg # 14):

While Sam tossed out his insults, Lorenzo simply passed the flashlight back to Hank- which was a strangely calm, methodical motion given the ugly knot of anger that had worked its way up into his chest. "Keep this on him," he muttered and drew his hunting knife in full. "Don't be scared to go for his eyes."

It had been a little while since he'd been in a fight. The Caravan was a lot more stable than his last group, and they tended to stop Lorenzo before he was actually able to launch himself at somebody, rather than cheering him on. This time he wouldn't be having that. His heart felt like it was hammering louder in his ears than the torrent of rain, or even the crumbling support beams, but he wasn't afraid. He was goddamn livid. For the moment he even forgot why he had entered the kitchen in the first place, and he couldn't focus on anything else other than wanting very badly to carve Sam up.

First priority was getting the old cocksucker off New Mexico. After that, Lorenzo would improvise- hopefully by bleeding Sam completely dry. It was a bad sign if Lorenzo was even too pissed to spit out any trash-talk. Without a word he stormed toward the older man, barely even noticing how icy the water was.

He kept his left forearm braced defensively in front of himself. The water was too deep to dodge or backstep properly in, and Lorenzo didn't exactly have a tactical mind- the idea was just to get stabbed where he blocked and try to push through whatever happened. Better than nothing. He didn't even hesitate to assess the situation upon reaching Sam. He just spat out a string of angry cursing and lunged.

To Dominic, opening that door felt like pushing a granite slab, with every inch they gained being a struggle until all of a sudden the water outside caught it and ripped it wide open with such force that it very nearly sent them all toppling over. Under other circumstances it would have been comical but Dominic didn’t fancy his or anybody else’s chances of standing back up once they fell into that water.
The compound in which they had spent the winter was gone; replaced by a surging river that they were currently trapped in the middle of. Looping one arm back around Izzy’s waist; holding her tight against him Dominic reaches out with his other hand and blindly takes hold of the hand of whoever was behind him “Everyone is to stay together!” he shouts hoping that he sounded far more confident than he felt; the prospect of wading out into the maelstrom before him was absolutely terrifying let alone leading everyone else into it “...we’re heading for the gate, Look out for the person next to you and do not get separated as we can’t go back for you!” Dominic continued, flashing Izzy a single nervous glance before beginning to move.
How long were they out there with the pouring rain lashing against their skin, blinded by the icy cold water and with every step they took a battle to stay upright. A trip that would have normally taken no more than a minute or two even for someone like Izzy took what felt like hours with the medic gripping on so tightly to the girl’s waist and the hand of whoever was behind him that he was scared he was going start breaking bones.
After reaching the relative calm and shelter afforded by the concrete walls that were either side of the gate Dominic took the opportunity to catch his breath before he even contemplated leading his bedraggled group of survivors into the outside world. Just to the left of them stood the gateway; the gates themselves were now long gone having been torn off their hinges but the way out was clear of obstruction which was something at least.
None of the others seemed to be here yet and so Dominic quietly started counting beneath his breath in order to give them time to catch up just as he’d promised them he would, but there was only so long that they could wait here.
With his teeth already beginning to chatter with cold Dominic once again gives Izzy another one of those nervous glances before staring back out into the darkness, counting down the seconds to when he’d have no choice but to abandon his friends to the storm.

Just make sure he can't come back as a zombie. Hank murmured, not taking his eyes off NM's flailing limbs as he took the flashlight. He didn't know if the other could hear him over the sounds of their shelter breaking apart and the storm, or if Lorenzo could hear anything over the anger. Sure he had seen Lorenzo angry before but this was a whole new level. A level Hank didn't want to get in the way of, even if taking his crowbar to Sam's head had raced it's way past the need to get supplies. Bringing the beam of light up he kept it aimed at Sam's face.

Sam reacted reflexively to the sudden charge his way, by necessity releasing New Mexico's thick wet mop of hair so he could fight more freely minus the water logged around his long legs. Quickly his hand moved to his bowie knife, pulling it free from its unbuttoned sheathe, about to slash out at Lorenzo when the beam from Hank's flashlight filled his gaze, making him pause, briefly blinded.

He came to his senses when Lorenzo's smaller yet compact form slammed into his own, causing him to step back in the water, his bowie knife falling from his fingers into the murky water at their feet. Sam's back brushed up against the food cabinet, the Southerner garnering some of his swagger back as he seized upon Lorenzo's shield-forearm. Sam's grip was vicelike as he twisted the other man's arm at an unnatural, uncomfortable angle, a snap of bone ringing out amongst all of the noise. The Southerner's second hand darted out to grapple Lorenzo's knife-wielding hand around the wrist before the younger man could get a stab in.

"Time to take the long sleep, ya sumbitch." Sam cursed, one of his heavy feet weighing down on one of Lorenzo's to keep the man pinned close, accenting his venom laced words with a solid headbutt into Lorenzo.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:50, Thu 29 Oct 2015.

New Mexico felt his life slipping away with his breath as he had struggled under the dark, dirty water. Not like this.. He thought despairingly, his mind racing at the pointlessness of getting this far only to die at the hands of Sam, a monster they'd been dangling along all this time despite the awful history that followed the Southerner.

NM had come close to drowning once before, many years ago when he was a boy. One of his younger sisters had nearly drowned herself, out at the lake one summer. New Mexico swam out to her, retrieving her but at the cost of using his own body as a life preserver. He'd almost drowned himself, his sister's lighter, but in water, heavy form pushing him into the deep dark.

His fingers clawed desperately at Sam's seemingly enormous fingers that had entangled his thick long hair.. Probably should have cut it. It was a gift to walkers' wayward, rotting fingers as it was. Another grim observation as he began to lose the fight. Bubbles and water churned as the youth tossed about, unable to get up, one his hands searching hurriedly along the flooded floor, finding useless objects that would avail him little help.

Then he felt release from Sam's cold fingers, and was able to rise above the water in one quick movement, an audible intake of air coming from the soaked, disoriented teenager. He could see other bodies in the room, the stream of light coming from one, while another dark figure tussled with who could only be Sam the Beast.

As he'd been released he'd finally found something useless under the water that would have been his resting place; his machete. Long wet strands of hair covered New Mexico's face, but no matter, he could see just enough. After Sam spoke and leveraged his skull against Lorenzo, New Mexico's slight form lunged forward, his machete dropped down in a by-now-practiced arc to strike Sam's hand, chopping it off where it gripped Lorenzo's knife-wielding wrist.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:01, Thu 29 Oct 2015.

The brawl unfolded quickly. Lorenzo didn't have much in his mind other than to plow Sam right over on his sorry ass, but the old dickhead ostensibly had some fight left in him after all. Lorenzo was somewhat aware of something in his arm snapping as Sam yanked it to the side, in a way he knew for a damn fact it wasn't supposed to bend. It didn't hurt yet. Which meant he could still try to push through this.

Well, fuck me silly, I guess I broke my fucking arm, was Lorenzo's only thought on the matter. He hissed in frustration and tried to get a better hold on Sam, but his armed hand was restrained, and he found his left hand no longer worked how he would like it to. It was hard to even make a fist. Even with his limited medical knowledge, he knew that wasn't good.

For a second he could only glower at Sam, his dark eyes wide, and admittedly a little crazed looking. He heard Sam say something that he didn't give a shit about, spat in his face, then felt something hit his head. Hard. Everything went dim and swimmy briefly and he blinked, trying to chase the darkness away.

Despite being dazed, he still stubbornly tried to force himself free. New Mexico was up. That was good. The kid had cut Sam's hand clean off, though Lorenzo was too woozy to marvel at the fact. All that mattered was he could move again. He jerked the blade up toward the older man's throat, plunged it in, and dragged it through in a practiced motion like he had done to chickens and pigs back home.

Blood gushed out. Lorenzo could feel it on his hand, warm and sticky, and most people would have took a step back and stopped there. Well, Lorenzo was a bit more unhinged than most people.

"Mother fucker, fuck you!" he bellowed. "Break my goddamn arm, huh, pedazo de mierda?"

He kept his hold on Sam, despite his barely functional arm, and each word was punctuated by a stab to the abdomen. He didn't stop, almost couldn't stop, until the man went limp. The only further action he took was putting one right in the old twat's temple so he couldn't reanimate, then Lorenzo stepped back and sheathed his knife.

"Fucking fuck," he breathed. His voice was trembling. He cradled his arm against his stomach and closed his eyes, letting out a slow hiss of pain. "Fuck that guy," he grumbled. He glanced over at the others.

"Mex, that was some solid goddamn work! Old ass bitch couldn't keep you down more than a second! Hah!" Lorenzo gloated, a big shit-eating-grin spreading across his face. "Atta boy!"

He waded over to the cupboards, giving New Mexico a rough pat on the shoulder, and started haphazardly throwing whatever he could into his bag. The movements caused stabs of pain to jolt all through his arm up to his shoulder. He winced, swore under his breath, and tried to ignore it.

"Grab what we can and get the hell outta here before this whole rat-trap comes down on us. Real quick-like," he muttered. He raised his voice, trying not to sound too concerned. "Everyone's alright?"

Luke felt like he was in the movie Titanic and was one of the third class passengers who'd fallen asleep and missed the rush to the lifeboats. Although he could hear the wind wailing as well as other sporadic cries of survivors who struggled under debris or as they burst out of various points of the building, he found himself alone.

Cradled in his arms were his various hair and mustache grooming products, the only part of him partially dry being his precious mustache which he'd covered with one hand until gathering his belongings. His eyes were wide and anxious as he trudged as quick as possible down the hallway, trying to follow the sounds of his comrades up near the front door.

He passed by the kitchen on the way, making no effort to stop for food like others had done. Luke had what he needed. But he realized upon taking a few steps forward that there were people still inside like himself. Taking a step back he looked in, watching Lorenzo and Sam roughing it up, and New Mexico and Hank standing by until the youngest of the lot took a piece off of Sam. Lorenzo finished the job.

"Wh-" He spoke up, well, almost spoke up before throwing up his rations into the water, though without dropping any of his hair products, still clutched tight to his chest.

It was strange, letting Lorenzo's anger loose instead of trying to calm him down. Though his rage was something Hank was familiar with, Joe's arrow and the knife on Tom's throat the only things that had kept it from being unleashed. Watching the fight he let out a brief sigh of relief as NM surfaced. With Sam occupied it seemed he had forgotten about the teen, much to his misfortune. If he hadn't seen what Sam had been trying to do earlier Hank may reacted in much the same way as Luke.

As it was he waded forward as the body dropped, handing the crowbar to Tom. Take care of this.

Making his way to the other two he put a hand on NM's shoulder. Dude... A crash somewhere deeper in the building cut him off. Glad you're still here. We'll celebrate later. Turning he started tossing what he could into his bag. If he tripped he knew he'd be in trouble, but there was no guarantee they'd be able to come back and salvage anything after the storm.

Bohannon pressed his large hand against the hole torn in Karen's side. The warmth gushing from her wound contrasted the icy cold of the river water they were all belly-button deep in. The color was beginning to drain from the woman's face as Bohannon guided her towards the door. "Hey!" the cowboy called out. "Hey!" He yelled again, louder. "Somebody help me! She's bleeding!" Karen simply gave Benson a look of it's okay. He snapped back at her "You don't get to quit. You're getting out of here, same as all of us."
The group from the kitchen had to be moving to the exit by now, Brady thought as he uselessly tried to kick out the door. "Come help me push this open! I can't get it on my own!" He pleaded for help from the group as the water level threatened to reach his nipples.

The door to the outside burst open as Brady slammed against it one last time. The diverted water flushed down the hallway and into the kitchen, washing Sam's corpse into a far corner and signalling it was tome to leave.

The wind howled outside and the rain seemed to be coming down sideways. The path from here to the gate was mostly unimpeded, besides the river now flowing through the industrial park. It was foolish really, to have erected the place on a flood plane.

Dominic's group could only hold out for a little while longer at the front gate, what with the hurricane bearing down on them. One way or another, they'd have to move soon.

First Joe, then the storm. This was one of Tom's top ten bad days since the outbreak. He had just managed to get some sort of semblance of sleep, probably no more then 3 or 4 hours, when the wind snapped him awake. Turning over he saw Hank had woken too and was watching him. I'm sorry. He mumbled, sitting up as his brother put his sleeping bag away. Leaning against his brother Tom waited for the storm to stop.

"Eat my rocket." Tom grinned, taking aim and shooting the massive boss. The grin faded slightly as the boss's shields regenerated just before impact. "Damnit Wheaton, you were supposed to keep him suppressed...then tell me you're out of ammo so I don't waste mine." A flash lit up the sky, the sound of rain hitting the window drowned out a moment later by the boom of thunder. Glancing out the window he saw the flashing of police lights a couple streets away. "Ya, I wish Hank was on too, he said something about needing to work on a project." The lights went out with the next flash. "Motherfucker." The lights from the police car suddenly flashed through his window, followed by a knock on the front door.

Hank's shaking snapped Tom out of the memory. What followed next was mostly a blur, the sounds of the building collapsing drowning out the wind and rain from outside. When they got to the kitchen he was only vaguely aware of what was going on at first as Hank moved in front of him, though he caught sight of Sam doing something other then grabbing food out of the brief glimpse he had. Taking his brother's crowbar he felt a chill that was more then just the water as he saw NM standing and Sam floating. Turning as Luke lost it he saw others moving past to the door outside. Looking down he realized how fast the water was rising. Pushing toward the others he grabbed hold of Hank's back and took NM's hand. Come on, we can always come back later. He tried to sound less scared then he was, but the day's events on top of this were starting to take a toll.

The sharp piece of metal that protruded from the wall at the mouth of the hallway had torn a jagged hole in Karen's side. Blood was leaking out of her and into the icy, dirty water. The cowboy's hand was pressing into the wound, sending searing hot pain all through her body. The only solace she took in this feeling was that it slowed the lightheaded dizziness that she thought would surely drag her down into the water.

"You don't get to quit. You're getting out of here, same as all of us." The words seeped into her brain slowly, absorbing into her psyche slowly like a stiff sponge soaks up water. She gave Bohannon kind of a half nod at first, then followed it with a "kay" as she placed her hand over his.

Benson Bohannon unbuttoned his shirt, gazing into Karen's eyes. He pulled it off and wrapped it around Karen's body, fixing it tight around her wound. "I'm gonna get you to Dominic." He told her as the door burst open and the water rushed in.

Karen moved tentatively behind the cowboy as he lead the way into the raging storm water. His hand was entwined with hers as they took each step together.

...

Brady, ignored by his brother and his brother's new girlfriend followed behind as they all walked out into hell together, looking back to ensure the others were making their way too. "Make for the gates! We rendezvous with Dominic there! C'mon move!"

The pain in his arm was making collecting things difficult. Carrying them even more so. Try as he might, Lorenzo found he still couldn't bend his fingers all the way let alone make a fist. Any attempt at the movement was stiff, clumsy, and agonizingly painful. Nonetheless, he gathered what he could and staggered out into the flooded hall behind the others two big, bulky bags hanging off his right shoulder.

He stumbled out like he was drunk. Annoyingly enough, he wasn't. He took up the rear and clutched his presumably broken arm to his stomach. Now he was really feeling it. The pain made his eyes prickle. Every breath was ragged and uneven. Admittedly smoking since he was fourteen could be a contributor as well. Pain wasn't for pussies, but getting stinging eyes from it definitely was. What, you're going to cry? Could practically hear his old man yelling. Used to get right up in his face. Old bastard. Lorenzo clenched his jaw so tightly he could hear his own teeth grinding.

Fuck this stupid place. Fuck Sam, fuck the rinky-dink building falling to shit, fuck the rain, fuck the greenhouse, fuck whatever had made Karen bleed, and- well, just fuck it all, basically.

The mantra of internal fuck this, and fuck that at least gave him something focus on. It wasn't something productive or healthy but he at least didn't have to wonder who else had made it out, if anyone had. Not that he particularly cared for most anyone in the group. Sure, they were fine. Didn't steal from him or try to beat on him at least. But he was sure they saw him as just dumb muscle. A nice pitbull to keep around for dirty work. Sic him on whoever, send him to get whatever, but keep him at arm's length. Whatever. He couldn't give less of a shit. That was just the niche he'd always fallen into and it suited him fine.

By the time he reached the door he'd worked up a good, angry steam. It didn't drown the pain but it diluted it a bit. Like rum in coke. Goddamn he was getting a drink after this. He didn't greet any of the others, nor did he make any smart ass remark like usual. He just tried to get to the gate, trailing behind slow enough so he could help anyone who might fall ahead of him.

Sam hardly reacted at first when his dominant hand was chopped clean off. His adrenaline had already been running and while his eyes widened in shock and his face paled, he continued to struggle with Lorenzo. One hand continued to grip uselessly at Lorenzo while blood spurted out of veins and arteries in the stump of the other, spraying both men in the face and upper body.

For once Sam was at a loss for words, his wolfish eyes, now bloodshot and delirious, staring int Lorenzo as the other man stuck him over and over again with cold steel. Sam coughed blood, his one hand tightening grip before releasing for the final time when Lorenzo sunk the knife through Sam's temple, putting his lights out for good.

When the action subsided, the big Southerner fell beneath the water, a dark pool forming about his disfigured body.

N'Mexico was a bit out of it after striking Sam's offending hand from the rest of the enormous man-animal. Peculiar, I-was-almost-murdered fascination followed regarding Lorenzo's immediate slaying of the group's tormentor. After so long, they would finally be rid of that dark presence, and it only happened once Cookie had left. Why their recent leader had not dispatched the bastard sooner, NM knew not.

His slim frame thoroughly soaked, New Mexico snapped back into reality when Hank clapped him on the shoulder, tentatively nodding to the older of the brothers, but taking little initiative to move himself. Thankfully for Tom, NM had a guide and with his hand being taken by the younger teen, went along in the completion of the escape. Did he walk through Luke's vomit floating in the water? At this point he cared little.

-assuming the peoples in the Kitchen make it outside with Lorenzo

Luke tried to keep up with Lorenzo, periodically glancing back through wet, messy hair to make sure they were all relatively close together. He hadn't seen Dominic or most of the others, but surely they could patch everyone together once they were out of the storm on higher ground. Despite having lived at the compound, like everyone else, for some weeks now, he was essentially useless as a guide and merely followed behind Lorenzo, hoping that the warrior of a survivor would run into Dominic.

(The Caravan united)

The cold, shirtless cowboy stepped cautiously, trying harder and harder with every step not to succumb to the current. Karen trailed behind him and she grew weaker and slower with every step. "C'mon, I ain't leavin' you." He picked the injured woman up in his arms and carried her the last hundred feet to the gates where Dominic and his group awaited. "Doc!!" Bohannon screamed as he came within earshot. "She's hurt, Doc. You gotta help her!" Benson waded through the flowing water coming to a stop next to Dominic with Karen flopped in his arms, pale and chilled, the cowboy's shirt wrapped around her middle.
Brady Bohannon joined the group at the industrial park gates taking a few steps out on to the roadway. "We can't fuckin' stay here!" he hollered to the gathered Caravan. "We need to move out, we need to find shelter!" Brady tried to scan the horizon, unable to make anything out through the howling wind and rain. The sky and the earth were black.

“Quatre-vingt quinze, quatre-vingt seize, quatre vingt dix sept“ come on guys where the hell are you!? Dominic silently screamed as he stared out into the driving rain; searching vainly for any sign of the others as filthy river water continued to seep through his boots and jacket to soak him to the skin, the wall offering little in the way of shelter to those hunkered down behind it from the driving rain “quatre vingt dix huit, quatre vingt dix neuf...” He couldn’t wait any longer, they were already flirting with hypothermia as it was, he had to get his people out of here and just hope that Bohannon and the others were alright.
It was just as he was turning to tell the group that they were leaving that he caught sight of something moving within the darkness closely followed by the sound of Bohannon’s voice shouting his name “Jesus Cowboy you took you’re...Holy crap what the hell happened to her!” Dominic shouted as he caught sight of the blood stained shirt pressed against Karen’s side. Being sure that she was stable first Dominic removes his arm from about Izzy’s waist in order to rush over to the whey faced blonde in the cowboy’s arms.
Carefully pulling back the blood soaked shirt Dominic grimaces at the ragged hole in her side before pushing it back in place “It’s not too deep but we’ll need to stop the bleeding once we find somewhere dry ...oh and try and keep that wound the hell away from this water” because unless one of you thought to retrieve some medical supplies I have no antibiotics to fight an infection Dominic silently added to the end of his explanation to Benson. Truth be told that bleeding needed to be stopped immediately as she’d already lost a lot of blood judging by how pale her skin was, but there was nothing he could do about it whilst they were all knee deep in water in the middle of a raging storm “Ok everyone stick together and watch each other’s backs, now let’s move!" Dominic shouted to the group as he put his arm back around Izzy and headed through the shatterd remains of the gate.
With the entire town built on a flood plain there was little in the way of high ground but Dom figured that by travelling away from the river that at least the water level should drop, or so he hoped.

He wasn’t sure how long they had spent trudging through the darkness before they found the abandoned office building on the edge of town. Like everywhere else the ground floor was flooded but the second floor should be dry and the roof should be intact.
It would be by no means an ideal place to stay but it’d give them somewhere to deal with Karen and Lorenzo’s injuries before they went search of somewhere better.
No sooner had they entered the upper floor that Dominic turned his attention to Karen’s wound; shouting instructions as he went “Brady get me a knife and a light so I can see what I am doing, Benson I need you to hold her down...I am afraid that this is going to hurt” Dom said throwing Karen an apologetic look as he produced his Zippo lighter and brought it to life.