Decision Time

[Nayt]

At first, Natalie didn't say anything at all. She hadn't a clue what she could've said-- what she would've said. If she outright asked them to send her back in time so she could be with her family and friends again, she'd not get anything of the sort. She might even be watched closely for signs of psychopathic tendencies.

What else was there? She could have asked for a specific food, specific drink, maybe some blankets, a pillow, something to write on, something to write with, some more time alone so she could scream, cry, and beat her hands off the walls for just a little while longer-- but she couldn't ask for anything of that sort, because they hadn't any of those provisions to give her. The only other thing would've been a shoulder to cry on, but she doubted any of them really gave a damn enough to be that for her, so what was the point in asking?

Besides, weren't they all supposed to go drive to their deaths soon? What good were a few comforts going to do her if that was going to happen soon, anyways?

In the end, all she could do was shake her head. If that was all Christoph wanted, Natalie would silently step back away from him and reclaim her seat next to Johnny.

[Paroxysm]

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Johnny replied as though he had already figured that was what was going to happen. He didn’t mind, really. As much as a bastard as he may have been, he was still a human being, after all. If Natalie wanted to latch onto him as emotional support, then who was he to shove her off?

Johnny leaned further back in his chair and crossed his right leg over his left, idly sitting by, thinking, waiting, and planning. Truthfully?--He didn’t have too much to worry about. He was a god damn agriculturist and while he had things he could pack, a lot of his materials had wasted away, not from neglect from the robotic janitors, of course, but sometimes time took its toll.

A familiar piece of copper wiring was taken form somewhere on Johnny’s body, he held it just between his fore and thumb; twisting the object around, he studied it.

Things were ruined again, he sighed.

All to his lonesome, what with most everyone leaving the room, he sat by himself, tapping the foot that was atop the ground every few seconds, and waiting for Natalie to finish speaking with Christoph. Without a doubt, Natalie would eventually find her way to Johnny’s side sooner or later. Unlike the others, he saw little need to baby or coddle the girl; she was a survivor just like they all were and the world was less than desired; ultimately, there was no point in treating her as something special. She may very well have been, but right now? She was just another remnant of humanity and dammit, she had some heavy lifting to help out with, too.

And just as those thoughts had finished creeping into his mind, it turned out that Natalie was already beside him, odd as that was, Johnny didn’t seem all that bothered by it.

“We’re leaving,” an instructing tone slipped out of the man’s mouth. It wasn’t entirely comforting, but it was authoritative. “Let’s go grab some things to pack from the lab; hell, not like we’ll be taking too much of what I have with us.”

Saying little more, he stood up from his seat, and walked away. Natalie was free to follow and, if she did, she’d find some work to do; she'd maybe get her mind off things, or even just talk. It didn't matter.

[Syntaphar]

Seeing that one of the two bathrooms was occupied, Smithson would grab a fresh set of clothes and another lab coat not yet sullied by the blood of blasphemies against god, and then adjourn to the second shower. He, in contrast, was not expecting the water to come out cold. A shriek entirely too high-pitched to be healthy would emanate from the west side of the complex, foiloowed by a hasty and shivering yelled apology. Only five minutes later, Dr. Smithson would don the fresh set of clothes and check himself in the mirror. With a comb found hastily, he would force down the little tufts of silvery-blond hair that still stuck up in places. Once that was done, he would grin at himself in the mirror and comment: "Looking SHARP!"

With egotism in check, he would go and get his duffel bag and hopefully two further bag-like containers from the supply closet. Then, he would dash into the medical supply closet and shovel out about 10 small containers of amoxicillin, 5 of anti-inflammatory and two bottles of rubbing alcohol. Along with that, he would shove some of the provided lab equipment into the bag, careful of the more delicate instruments. After that, he would scan the complex for anything extremely rusty and a roll of aluminum foil and, if found, put them in seperate bags. That concluded, he would find a chair, comfortable or not, then begin to doze off until the deadline-approaching scramble. When one is an intern, one learns to catch a nap anytime and anywhere.

[Zenith]

Stepping to the cage on the right, starting off the long row of secured units, Mark looked at the metal encasement and tried to pull or slide the gate off to the side. Sighing, he raised a brow. Looking to a hand-sized scanner, Markus placed his hand on the plate and the gate hissed open with an activated noise, allowing him entrance. Shaking his head with a frown, he sneered at the technology and stepped inside the unit. Looking through the shelves and the labels of everything, he pulled off a few secure totes that read [Blankets and Pillows - sleeping supplies], Markus pulled it and threw/slid it out into the main area of the warehouse.

Following that tote went eating utensils, a case of MREs, the necessities (batteries, matches, handtorches, socks, toiletries, feminine hygiene products...), and then about four military issue duffel bags, each with sleeping units inside of them -- warmers, insulators, and sleeping sacks for the group. Each could fit two, using the human biometrics to reheat the bags and sustain instead of the constant need for technology. Mark knew nothing about computers. He knew what little he could get away with, and the rest was knifes and how many ways to kill people with object smaller than a bobby pin.

"You'd have thought with all this shit they would be saving up for twice as many people ... where is everyone else?" He sighed, talking lightly to himself before moving out into the main area again, stacking up he totes that he'd pulled out and lining everything up in order so that he could soon inventory it all and check baggage. Not putting all your eggs in one basket, was a good key starter to surviving with this many people. Though he paused to scratch his head lightly, "We have an Agriculturalist, a Survivalist, a few Doctors it seems, a Mechanic, ... everyone has a purpose. What's the kids purpose? The government had to be thinking something beyond survival and reproduction ..." His voice trailed as he moved toward one of the Hum-Vee's and slipped in.

The technology instantly got to him once again, as the monitor display felt the pressure on the seat and flicked to life. He watched the lime gauges flicker and run something that looked like lists of names, scanned for something. A red eye flicked across his frame and face before pausing, flashing and then ... it spoke.

Rayden, Markus Alexander.
Accepted!
Welcome aboard, sir.

He lofted a brow and leaned back into the seat, laughing a bit. "Uhm, thanks. What the hell was that all about ..."

Hell has nothing to do with the system vehicle check, sir. We are coded with your DNA, so that only survivors of the colony that are registered may operate this module. Should you have not been in my system, you would have been warned once, and then injected with a sedative until authorities arrived.

"Hnm... what's your load capacity. Give me schematics and back this bitch up to that equipment..." Mark wanted to see how the hell these newly updates machines would work and it paused for a moment before the engine, which Markus picked up instantly as a roaring V12, supercharged. The suction noise coming from the engine was the cold-air intake, which seemed to whirl and hog up the air as it popped effortlessly into reverse and paused about five feet before the gear. The hybrid motor went silent and the woman's voice spoke again,

"Sir, you are operating a U.S.M.C. TX9 -- the World's Most Sophisticated and Advanced A.I. vehicle system. I have been added into this Hummer H1O and modified. State of the Art armor-piercing bullet deflection, using electromagnetic waves to disrupt the pathways of incoming fire, an acid proof coating to resist and corrosion or corrosive materials, and state-of-the-art navigational pathway, industrial, unbreakable glass plating.

Mounted to the roof is a small-scale rail cannon that has been modified to fit this vehicle, but is the same caliber that is used on small gunships that roved the seas in the late 20th century. It's retrofitted to blast through anything you can put it to, sir.

Lastly, capacity sits six people comfortably and eight if you're hauling. Over 2,000 pounds of dead weight can be added to the chassis and then it can also pull or haul another 10,000 pounds by trailer if you wish. The tires are self-inflating, individual reading tires, armed and filled with a sealing foam. They also are weaved titanium side-walls for the most extreme of conditions.

Essentially, Rayden -- even with your combat record, I doubt you could break this vehicle...

The only thing he could do was gawk and laugh as he exited the vehicle.

[Skylar]

Perhaps he had forgotten that she had followed him, who knows, but she watched as he made is way exactly where he wanted to be. With a loud hiss, and a small jump, they were inside with the materials that should make him feel a little more comfortable.

Standing to the side she watched as he pulled this and that off shelves, mumbling to himself. Most of his words she couldn’t hear, but he was gracefully brutish to watch none the less. However, one thing did catch her ear...."We have an Agriculturalist, a Survivalist, a few Doctors it seems, a Mechanic, ... everyone has a purpose. What's the kids purpose? The government had to be thinking something beyond survival and reproduction ..."

Her mind began to wonder as he played with the vehicle that seemed just as amused with him as he was with it. It seemed they had an almost playful banter going on......creepy....

She had made her way silently over to the vehicle and would be waiting right outside the door of it was he exited....”I’ve been wondering that, too you know.” Her voice was somber as she spoke, her concerned hues locking to his. “Even I have a purpose here, but what’s hers? What good could a child possibly do?” She leaned her hip against the massive armored vehicle. “Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing to happen to that cute little shit, but she just makes us that much more vulnerable.”

She shook her head a little bit as she tossed her gaze to the floor. “I’m almost ashamed of saying that out loud, but dammit, it’s the truth, you know that as well as I do. I’ve thought and thought for a reason damn good enough to leave a kid in the mix of this hell, and I keep coming up empty handed.” Her green eyes met his once more, he obviously didn’t know either, and if anyone else did, they weren’t talking yet. “What now chief?”

[Zenith]

Having tons on his mind and not noticing that Lucy had indeed followed him, he saw her from the rear view with a lot on her mind and exited the vehicle. Passing by her, as if there wasn't enough room in this enormous hanger, his hands brushed against her supple hips as her words left thick, lush lips. (Mark had noticed!)

He sighed pulling a small, hand-sized tablet from his pants pocket and a Bic pen as well (noting that it was a good thing Bic survived after all this time, if any had at all). Scribbling some words down Markus paused to look over his shoulder at Lucy as she began to feel ashamed and he shook his head, marking some of the supplies down idly,

"I don't believe you should feel ashamed at all. It's the governments plans and idea. Ugh... There's no such thing as a "Transparent Government" -- It's a load of bullshit. So -- she has a reason here, we just need'ta find out what it is, exactly." With his words of transparent and government in the same sentence, Mark had pulled a handsome smirk to his lips, which formed a generous sneer to the fake, political words that meant nothing but more hidden - better. "Besides, Johnny's a good man, regardless of his fight-or-flight stance, he'll watch out for her like she was his own -- I think. Uhh... After what I've seen, he wouldn't go lettin' her down now. Besides, she's not pulling the rest of you down. Ergh... Only the cowboy and I will take on that responsibility..."

Finishing up a checklist, Mark opened the back hatch to the Hummer H1O and spoke again, "What should I call you, smart car."

"Call me, sir?" The vehicle chimed.

"Yes, erggh -- a name. You know my name, it's polite and courteous to have your own readily available, correct?"

"Absolutely, sir. But I have not been given a name. The creators just didn--"


"Well, then -- you're a smart piece of American craftsmanship -- what the hell do you want to be called?"

Communication had gone silent for a moment and then it came back on with a somewhat static pause and a faint .wav file of Jeopardy came across the speakers. Markus couldn't help but laugh. As his raspy, husky voice rolled from his stubbled face -- she spoke slowly, "Forgive the delay, Rayden -- I have never been asked that question and I was merely putting my maker's handy-work to the test, as you would say.

Ava, will do nicely -- Rayden."

"Ava - then, are all of the other vehicles tied into your core, or do they all have their own personalities and learning capabilities as well?"

"That is your wise, Chief. I can tap into their neural-nano networks and take control if you would like or you can have another operator take control of one of the other HumVees." Learning from the atmosphere around her, Ava had picked up on Lucy's words and called the man Chief instead of his name.

"We'll leave it for now. Program this vehicle for my dimensions. We'll be splitting the teams up into two groups and hauling some serious gear. Calibrate the rig for ...uhh... six passengers and a 6 k load haul."

"Affirmative, sir."

Markus sat against the bumper of the vehicle and looked at Lucy with a half-grin on his face and then shrugged gently. "I'm gunna load this shit up and make sure everyone gets to safety, I suppose... hmm..."

[Skylar]

She squirmed slightly into his touch. He was such a tease, and what made it worse....he knew it. However, his words, as reassuring as they were, still left her feeling a bit empty. No one should have to go through what they were all going through, let alone a child that might not even truly comprehend what was really going on.

“Mm, I suppose so.” She had a distant look about her eyes, as if she was still deep in thought, yet she pulled herself back to listen tot he conversation between man and machine. It was almost comical hearing the vehicle refer to him as she had. Chief. She giggled quietly to herself as she moved to slide between his legs as he leaned against the bumper.

“So..chief, need some help?” There wasn’t really much she needed to be doing right at the moment, and she sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere alone. This was her security, and she would go wherever he went. Period.

[Zach Kaiser]

Christoph resisted the urge to frown; it was understandable that she was shocked, but he was a little worried that her continued refusal to talk was a bad sign. Still, there wasn't much that could be done about it for the moment. "Well, if you think of anything, don't hesitate to ask."

He drew back up to his full height and gave Johnny a sympathetic look. He looked like a tough guy, but he'd been treating Natalie well enough so far, and she seemed to take a liking to him, so he supposed he was the person best suited to look after her for now. I'd feel a bit more comfortable if one of the women was in charge of her, though.

As it wouldn't take long for him to pack--unlike most of the others, his specialty required no equipment other than his brain--he'd spend most of the time assisting others with their own preparations.

[Nayt]

The girl acknowledged Christoph Zalien's words with a nod and an accompanied hum. While it was a sweet suggestion on her part, she couldn't quite see herself depending upon the kindness of anyone else here. Then again, she barely understood that she was already dependent on Johnny . . .

Returning to him, after all, was an unseen and unheard relief, one she barely acknowledged. Then again, it wasn't like Natalie Lei was giving these circumstances much philosophical or psychological thought--really, the only thoughts she had was about their impending doom and a mental tennis match of emotions, regarding whether she was sad to think that she and all these people were potentially going to die soon, or if she simply didn't give a shit either way.

Natalie nodded to Johnny. She hadn't much left that belonged to her back in her preferred life, but there were a few things here and there that she'd like to hold onto, if only just for a little while, until they reached the remains of California or until they got stalked down by the aliens that were likely to kill them all. Then, at least, she might be able to die in a state of mild comfort, having some little trinket to hold onto as her head was popped off her shoulders. It was a bit of a morbid thought, but Natalie hadn't much others to call her own anymore.

Silently, the girl followed Johnny out and to the lab of his destination. If anything, she was going to be useful in helping him pack--a collection which inevitably would be for the both of them, as Natalie's intents were to pack personal belongings with no sense of survivalist need. Markus suggested otherwise earlier, but she only had a little bit, and that little bit was coming with her or she was staying behind.

It was unlikely that the two's presence, Johnny's and Natalie's, were going to hold any further consequence until they were coming up to the deadline to recollect with the rest of them. Johnny and Natalie's would be a silent, almost mundane communion that, in a twisted and absurd way, mirrored the comforts of packing up for a long on-the-road minimal-stops vacation--in truth, nothing of austere consequence.

[paper_stars]

That noise, that the man made, which was very surprising that a man could even make that noise made her smile to herself. Cold water. Snickering a bit, she turned the water off and grabbed a towel to wrap up in. She decided before she would get to work she would use this time to cut her hair, she also found that it helped her relax. Even after her shower she felt she had a bit more energy than before.

She didn’t cut a lot of her hair off, just enough so it wouldn’t be so nappy if she went without showering for a few days. She had a feeling that none of them may have much of a chance of showering like this again.. so it was best to enjoy it while you can. She put her jump suit on and tied the arms around her waist, leaving the towel on to cover her breasts.. No use in putting her shirt on when she’s going to see the doc.

Defiantly needed to get the wound re-stitched before she tried to life anything, that’s for sure; However long it took her to finish she sauntered her way over to the med bay. Bots were buzzing all round their feet’s, a couple followed her to the bay like little puppies sticking close to its master’s heels.

“Uh Doc?” she knew he’d be busy packing, but it was his job to secure all of their safety and health, not that she was trying to bother him. She was just concerned for the wound, so far Olivia had proven the stinger wasn’t poisonous, but Jodie was worried that even if it wasn’t poisonous it was still a foreign substance and it still may cause some kind of infection like any other wound would.

“I was wondering if you could fix me up.” The stitches were well done, but not strong enough to endure the movement of her arm. The wound was on her right shoulder; her pale skin around the wound was swollen and red. Blood trickled out from the stitches were she had torn them.

The wound, went through the front of her shoulder and out the back, so the stitches on the back of her shoulder were also slightly torn.

[Syntaphar]

Smithson would be found in the situation room, back arched backwards (in a way that could make anyone even watching uncomfortable) over a plastic chair. There were duffel bags on either side of him that he had a death grip on, even in sleep. He wasn't going to let the pack-bots get these, no sir. He was going to pack them himself, so he knew exactly where they were. Until he was called, he would be snoring loudly and rather obnoxiously. When his name (or title or nickname, rather) was called, he would pop up out of the chair and stretch with a little grin on his face. "Ahhh, a thousand years in cryonic slumber, and all I needed was a little nap. I feel much better." As he turned his head to the person who woke him up, he would sour his expression a little. Whether this was an actual worsening of his mood or just his version of occupational professionalism would be hard to divine.

He would give a morose chuckle at the state of Jodie's wound and say with bitter sarcasm and a slight Pittsburghese accent: "I seem to surrounded by amateur seamsters. Next time, if someone is about to sew themselves up, give me a call would ya? Anyway, these stitches need to come out and be redone immediately, and the wound needs to be swiftly disinfected. From the looks of the blood that's coming out, I might need to quickly ligate a vein or two. Also, it wouldn't hurt for you to take some of the vaccine I concocted a little bit back. I assume with your jury-rigged arm there, ya aren't too afraid of needles, eh? Anyway, come with me to Medlab 2. All the supplies that haven't been packed yet are there. Shouldn't take but a few minutes."

There was something missing though. There wasn't enough sarcasm in his monologue yet. He would smirk and say: "And Ms. Jodie, I recognize that this is a casual group at best, but I feel I must inform you that your outfit isn't up to dress code. Take a little more care next time." He would finish with a short and high-pitched cackle, then start walking to the Medlab, expecting her to follow.

[paper_stars]

Jodie pursed her lips a bit at what he was saying about the wound and how it needed to be taken care of, she hoped that it wasn’t going to be all the extensive.. “I was busy.” She stated about the lack of professionalize used on her wound. She needed a quick fix at the time and that’s what she got. However his comment at the end would live her mouth slightly part with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. She smiled to herself as she did obviously follow him over to the other medbay.

“You know, if I wasn’t so concerned about everyone else I would have walked in without a towel at all. Or if you’d like I can put my shirt on and then take it off for you, is it possible, that, you’d enjoy it?” she teased, the beating of her heart kicking up slightly. Honestly she loved banter and teasing, she grew up with a bunch of brothers and there was always teasing, insults, banters and fights.

“Ahh Doc, you won’t even have to give me a local. I’m far from squeamish and rather tolerable of pain. I don’t mind it rough.” She grinned, and once in the second med bay she took a seat on one of the examine tables. Idly swinging her bare feet like a child would as she waited for the good doctor to get to it, all the while running a continuous list through her head of what she needed to gather up and get ready, she wanted to make sure she wouldn’t forget about anything.

[Syntaphar]

Huh. It had been a while since Dr. Andrew had found anyone willing to put up with his sarcasm. The retort was like a breath of fresh air. He went and got a small surgey toolkit from the clost and unraveled it revealing forceps, scalpels, thread and the like. He would take the small set of scissors and cut through the stitches one by one. The soreness of the wound would not make it feel very good, however. "No, I don't think a strip show will be necessary. The shower, unfortunately, remedied a thousand years of needing that. Won't be able to enjoy much of anything for the next half a day. I appreciate the offer, though. Now this may burn a bit, so try not to jump."

He would apply a liberal splash of antibacterial to the wound, careful to get both sides. He had a styptic kit on hand in case the blood flow got dangerous. It seemed to be working ok, however. Smithson just hoped that the cleanser wouldn't react strongly to anything she might have gotten injected with. He would then examine the wound to make sure that arteries, or god forbid, the lymphatic system hadn't been cut. Fortunately, it looked alright. "Well, not too much to worry about on that count at least."

He heard her comment on not needing anesthetic and said "Good, I could use that on the trip. and don't worry, I have a Hippocratic Oath. It goes 'First, do no something something.' Probably not that important. Also, good to know you don't mind it rough. That knowledge could come quite in handy on the trip ahead. Yes, veeery useful to know." He would take the non-dissolvable suture tread, and with the grace and art of a professional seamster, sew up the wound(s) in a matter of a minute or two. That's not to say it wouldn't hurt though.

With a quick and somewhat painful pat on the shoulder, he would hand her a rolled strip of gauze and say "Apply it however it feels comfortable and change it at least once a day until it gets better. Now then, hope you don't mind needles. This vaccine might sting a bit." He'd take some rubbing alcohol and a rather large needle filled with a fluid best not described in appearance and inject her arm with it. "Now then. I am sure you have packing to do. Just try not to jostle the shoulder too much. I do have to say I'm sorry though. We are fresh out of lollipops to give you for being good. A million apologies." With another cackle, Smithson would dash back to where he left his packs and hope the pack-bots hadn't already deposited them on who knows what vehicle.

[paper_stars]

It wouldn’t feel very good at all, but she seemed to handle it well enough. No flinching or even much of an expression on her face. She did her best to tolerate it, which wasn’t hard to do. Perhaps it was just years of learning that took to handle pain, not to say it doesn’t hurt, because it hurts like a mother. However with years of practice, all it took was a couple breaths and a bit of a distraction to be able to keep from jumping, wincing or even making a noise.

“Waste not.” There was no point, she wasn’t suffering or even feverish, luckily if the wound remains clean it will heal fine.

Jodie never once looked at his work, or at the wound it was a way to not think about the stinging sensation that tickled all the way down her arm. Instead she just looked at his face as he worked. For an almost over the hill guy he wasn’t bad looking. But as she recalled he was what forty? She wondered how long it would take for him to start showing his age now, with the situation in and the possible stress they’ll all have to endure.

Her nose would crinkle at the needle, but she behaved like a good little patient and sat still as he stuck her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, a naught remark coming to mind at the mention of no lollipops…but she restrained from speaking it as he left to attend to whatever it was he was doing, she assumed napping might be it.

She bandaged herself and slipped on the t-shirt. Dropping the towel off in one of the waste bins labeled hazardous and leaving the med bay.

As she returned to her garage bay she pulled open her laptop and started to run a system check, double checking the generator and how much time they had left. Like she had said before, around five hours, it would be perfect for them; they leave by dawn and make it to the other base before dark. She would also prepare maps, and upload a link to all the GPS computers in the vehicles so she could keep in touch with everyone in case something happened.

She would also be taking with her the A.I that belonged to Olivia. (I dunno what to do about Olivia, so I’m just gonna kind of push her off out of the picture from now on. Unless he comes back to play, he can come back.)

The base they’ll be going to will have most of the tools she’ll need, so with pulling out a backpack she’d just pack some small things and the remaining mementos they were left before put to sleep. She would also go and pick herself out some small weapons; two pistols, a knife and a machete. All easy to carry and ride with on a bike or quad. Also being added to her backpack would be the small cleaning bot she had destroyed in trying to keep the power going. She felt bad for breaking it and decided since she couldn’t bring any of the other bots with, she would take him and fix him at the other base.

“Lu lu.” She said to the A.I “Will you monitor the other remaining working facilities? And see if you can get into any sort of security cameras on the outside, as well as the weapons base, I want to be sure there isn’t going to be any surprises.”

Though she had gone through all of the research about these alien creatures, she still didn’t feel like it was extensive enough to truly prove they were only nocturnal. She wanted to be safe, and keep everyone else safe as well. The little teenager looking girl with large cleavage would pop on the screen with a large smile as she ran the commands requested.

[Zenith]

"A..hem..." Markus looked a little stuck for words as the woman snaked her way between his thighs and he didn't have anywhere to go from here. He couldn't back up as casually as he would and he couldn't move to the left or right to evade this close encounter and he surely couldn't put her into a sleeper hold -- well, because that just wouldn't be kosher, now would it...

Standing there a little rigid and uncomfortable, she ebbed into his personal space and closed in on him. Mark did the only thing he thought he could do; he wrapped his arms around her lower back and held Lucy against his chest softly. "Erm... there's not really much else ... uhh ... to do, but pack up everyone else's gear ... and ... uh..." Leaning back slightly, he rested his mid-back on the stuff within the back of the HumVee and looked down at the woman.

It had been ... a really, really long time since he'd been with a woman. He was good at the motions: teasing, flirting, soft touches -- the stuff that wasn't hard and could go by slightly unnoticed, but when the time came for a little deeper intimacy, he freaked out a little bit. He hadn't had parents to hug and couldn't remember a time his father ever had. And mom ... well, mom didn't exist in his mind.

His large hands rubbed her back softly without a real thought or reason why he was doing it -- he just had seen others do it and the mimicry came to mind as security or comfort. Survivalists watch; they learn, everything...