Take Down Break Down

[BRIDGETTE WEISFELT]

Bridgette Weisfelt



December 28th

London, this wasn't a place to take lightly. This was a place to stay alert, keep an eye out, don't panic, don't run unless you have to, and try not to attract attention. Bridgette had stripped her bike down of all the weapons. She wore her duel Winchester's on her back, her twin machetes on her hips, her revolvers up against her legs, smaller knives in her boots, a few more knives in her duster, some small hand explosives she had wired herself from old grenades, and at last the long sharp katana she use to carry with her in war against her back. Taz himself wore a rip away collar with a small times explosive on it. If ever she found herself in a jam she could activate it, rip it off the dog, and boom, instant kill. Had anyone ever come to London before they would know you had to arm yourself to the teeth just to make it out alive. Her personal favorite was Kalashnikov strapped over her shoulder and resting in her hands as she walked the streets. Good old Russian AK 47.

Taz walked beside her looking up at Bridgette as she walked along the streets carrying the gun in her hands. She didn't want to shoot first if anything crossed her path. She had to keep it quiet. For that reason the dog had a quiver attached to his back filled with twenty arrows strapped in place. The crossbow was teatherd to her hip just under the duster. The sides were collapsible making it smaller and easier to hide on your body. Had any unlucky bastard had to come and fight her they wouldn't stand much of a chance with her arsenal. Of course once she ran out of bullets she was still deadly. She was more than skilled with her sword and brilliant at hand to hand combat. The Jackals had been trained in Wu Shu, Parkour, and basic marine training. They were killers, survivors, mean to stand the test of time and wars, then again they were also meant to work in a pack..B was all alone. She had been since the war ended.

So far her walk had been nice, here for scrap metal and parts for her bike she hadn't crossed a single ghoul, zombie, or cannibal and she felt for a moment the monsters must have moved on. They must have run out of food and taken off. The old London tribes must have died out which also meant the safe houses in London were gone with them. It was a skeleton of the world she remembered from her last visit. Nothing but distant gunfire and creatures attacking you at every corner. Now it was so quiet she could hear the sound of the sand screaming as the wind blew it about. She couldn't take the silence for granted, something was lurking out there. She could smell the blood and the hot stinking breath of the London streets. Crossing over an old road she looked around to see the side of an old building covered in blood and smeared hand prints. She could only guess what had taken place there and it couldn't of been good no matter how you slice it.

Continuing on Bridgette could hear something moving in the distance. Pulling the crossbow from her hip she flipped the switch and watched it snap into full bloom from an simple mess of limbs into a full functioning weapon, string pulled tight and ready to be fired. She snapped an arrow into place and drew it back looking through the cross hairs to take aim at anything jumping out at her. B was steady, like a sniper. Back on her bike she had left her old WWII Springfield, something she used as a sniper riffle with a updated modern scope. That and her Luger and Glock 22 were still left behind as well. She wished she would have taken the glock now, it would have been useful in dark spaces. The only thing that made her feel safe was the electric trigger she had installed on that damn bike. Flip out her watch, dial her location, start it up, and it could damn near drive itself for a quick escape ride. One of these days she would have to upgrade it to be quiet as well so she didn't have to leave it behind but for now it roared like a fucking lion and bringing it into London would be a stupid move. Turning towards another corner she stopped and held her breath. Someone was on the other side of the wall. B stopped a moment holding her finger over the trigger of the crossbow and tried to pull her handheld mirror to see who it was. She couldn't see anyone int he reflection, she was blind on this one. Just her lucky day.

[MARTIN REYNOLD]

Martin Reynold

December 28th

Screw this place. Screw this place! He'd hated London when he got there before he'd shipped out with his squad. He'd hated London when he had to retreat to the UK after the war. He hated London every time he had to go into this God forsaken place. Why was he even here? Oh yeah, that's right, for a girl. Well, more of a woman. Not his woman, sadly. A young mutant woman he'd met who just so happened to have a very young child. She never did tell him how she happened to concieve that child but the way she clammed up when he'd asked about it told him it probably wasn't a joyous occasion. Still, the kid was a little bit sick and she needed medicine of some sort. He'd been that jackass that made the offer to visit the old hospital and see what there was to see. If there was medicine there he'd collect it up and truck on back to her. All of this done free of charge. It left many to wonder what kind of moron would make a mad dash into the ruins of a once great city to find medicine that might not even still be there and then try to make it out alive. He was that moron.

She may not have seen the nasties that lurked around here but he sure had. He'd come across the first of them when he was near the old station. When the ghouls came at him like a hoarde of nightmares he'd retreated into the subway tunnels. From there he did his best to elude those monsters, right up he ran into those creepy bastards with the masks. When those two hostile forces met with him in the middle it had turned into an all out. He'd burned through at least two mags for his rifle and one for his pistol before he'd managed to snag up a few dropped weapons so he could conserve his own ammo. It was durring the middle of the fighting that he'd managed to make his escape but not without a few rugged alterations.

A ragged set of claw cuts on his cheek was still grimy with the slime from what ever had left them there. There was a piece of his shirt...and his forearm..missing when one of those ghouls had taken a bite out of him. He was covered in grit and other unspeakable filth. There were tears in his pants and vest and a liberal splattering of the red stuff on him. His guns were in their normal places, his AK-47 slung on his right shoulder, pistol in it's holster, cheater piece in the small of his back. However, he had some new stuff too. A pump action, 12 gauge, Remmington 870 was slung on his left shoulder. It had four shells taped to the sling, looked like the kind of thing that had once been used hunting. A Taurus Judge was in the front of his belt, looked like it still had four of those lovely .410 gauge shot shells in it. He had an old belt with three magazine pouches on it slung over his torso like a make-shift bandolier. The mags held there were for the PM-9 submachine gun held in his hands. The thing looked like it had seen better days, the wood grips scratched, pieces missing from them and there were even some dents in the frame of the gun. Still, he'd use it until it either broke down or it ran out of ammunition.

It just so happened that after making his escape that he was coming up on a corner. Seeing a shadow he gritted his teeth, hands tightening around the grips of the SMG. Great, already those pricks had sniffed him out? It was when he saw a glint of something that he stopped. Was that a mirror? He couldn't be sure but he didn't see anything so he was almost sure that who ever was holding it hadn't seen him. Very quietly he took a deep breath, readying himself for the trouble that was going to rear it's ugly head in his direction. With steady, slow movements he lifted the gun up slightly, ready to shoot from the hip, his finger already on the triggger. Already he was thinking to himself. C'mon, ya bast'rd. I'm waitin'.

[BRIDGETTE WEISFELT]

Bridgette Weisfelt



December 28th

She held the crossbow steady in her hand and took a deep breath, slowed down her heart and prepared to pull the trigger between beats as she was trained. Spinning with grace on her toes she took aim at the figure around the corner. She didn't pull in a breath nor did she pull the trigger once she recognized the face. What was his name again? Reynolds. Yes, it was Martin Reynolds. The Necroxi she had run into before. "I almost killed you Reynolds." That was all she had to say and she said it rather mater of factly. Just as before when they had met Bridgette was rather emotionless and empty in everything she did. It was as if she had no real reason to even be alive. She simply was and did, acted on logic, pure logic with no heart in it.

Taz came around the corner and sniffed Reynolds up and down before backing away nervously and looking up to his pack mate. When she showed no signs of concern his tail slowly but surly went from stiff to swaying back and forth happily. "What are you doing here anyways? You may be hard to kill but this is still dangerous territory." She knew what she was here for. She was here because she had no other choice than to dig up parts in this hellhole. Taz suddenly stumbled back growling at Bridgette as if something was very wrong. Her first reaction was to raise the cross bow. Looking behind Reynolds she fired and shot a ghoul right in the head. The arrow embedding itself deep into the skull and dropping it in mid step as it tried to crawl down the pile of rubble. The body tumbled and rolled before coming to a rest just beside the mess of bricks and wires.

"Looks like you had a friend follow you. Should we be expecting more?" Bridgette turned her back on him as Taz growled again. She could smell it now. What he was smelling. "We are not alone, rooftops don't look up imediatly. Just glance at them. Two over my right shoulder. Black suites, military maybe? Government certainly. They don't have patches so I don't know who they are with. There are another two over her on this building. I can hear their breathing now. I say about eight or nine. So what is our next move? If we pull out a gun fight then we will attract the nasties. If we try to go hand to hand they will put a couple bullets in our skulls." Bridgette didn't like this. Why were government men this far away from the cities? Something was up here.

[MARTIN REYNOLD]

Martin Reynold

December 28th

When the figure spun around that corner like that he braced his elbow against his stomach so that when he began to fire he could better absorb the recoil. For a second his almost did pull the trigger. Now, Reynold may be frighteningly forgetful of many things but faces were not one of them. He remembered this one, the Jackal, even if his name had been lost to the emptyness in his head. With a quick jerk he pulled the muzzle of the SMG skyward, letting out a breath. That was a close call. When she told him that she'd nearly killed him he just gave her a look, one brow arching high over his left eye. "The pot calls the kettle black, enh?" considering he had a gun pointed at her as well and his didn't need to be reloaded after the first shot. Dropping his weapon down, holding it in one hand, arms hanging at his sides he took a quick look around himself. In a way he should be counting his blessings. If there was anyone that would be good to have around in the middle of this place it was a Jackal like her.

Upon being questioned as to his motives for being here he just shrugged, "It's'a long story. What'cha doin' in this Hell-hole?" the question worked both ways. At least the two of them had something over most that came out here. She was a trained-since-birth killer and he was harder to kill than the vast majority. However, when the dog growled he looked down at it, forgetting it's name as well. What, it still didn't like him? Must be the smell. Then she lifted that crossbow and he looked, for just a moment, like he thought she was going to scragg him. When the arrow flew by and nailed the ghoul in the skull he spun about, taking a look. His gaze was still upon the carcass of the monstrosity when he answered. "I dunno'." he thought he'd left the majority of the ghouls duking it out with the masked freaks down in the subway.

Then she started talking again and he looked at her. What was she going on about? Men on the roofs? He didn't move his head, though his eyes flicked up to take a gander. Yes, there were guys in black up there. Could be government. Most likley was government. What the Hell did the government want with him other than to knock him off? It wasn't like he had anything important besides a head full of dirty jokes, bad memories and his idea of 'logic' that honestly made no sense. When she gave out the options he shrugged again, keeping his voice somewhat low. "I'm plannin' on takin' my chances with'tha nasties." If they started shooting it would be like a dinner bell to every nightmarish creature that lived in any hole it could find around here. Of course, if the nice men in black returned fire it would put the meal sign on them as well. At least the horrible things out here didn't discriminate, they'd kill you as soon as look at you.

For a moment longer he looked at her, trying to run through a few things in his head. That, however, didn't last too long. The longer he stood there the more those pricks up there got to formulate their plans and he wasn't much good at planning. The Jackal might just know how bad things were going to get when he winked at her. It was the way a faint smirk curled on his features accompanied that wink. Then his weapon was lifted swiftly, his other hand coming up with it to hold the forward grip. Brass casings jumped and danced in the air as he dumped half the magazine out, spraying bullets towards the men on the rooftop behind her. "C'mon!" he yelled to her as he turned about quickly, charging into the ruins with reckless abandon. After all, he was here to get something and he wasn't going back to her empty handed.

[BRIDGETTE WEISFELT]

Bridgette Weisfelt



December 28th

"I'm here for parts that's all." She kept it quick and simple. It didn't need to be more than it was, no added information. Nothing other than quick simple truth and a turn of her head. Jackals didn't like conversation anyways. They were awful with small talk and normally had no passion behind what they were saying.

"I will have to agree with you." She collapsed the sides to the bow and hooked it back into place on her belt before raising the AK47. If they were going to face the beasts of the wastelands, some of the worst then she wanted something that could spit out bullets quickly. Taz was quick to tuck his tail and keep close to his master. If there was gunfire, if there were monsters his best chance was staying closest to her. Bridgette wouldn't let anyone touch her fucking dog. All Bridgette had to do was look the place over a little to know what she had to do. Grabbing one of her home made explosives she set a time into it and pressed a button. Scraps of metal shards came out making the thing look like one of those puffer fish with all the spikes. They had exactly twenty nine seconds. Tossing the explosive up towards the men she pulled up the AK47 covering herself with a controlled burst before following Reynolds into the ruins of the city. "Move I don't know if the balance is correct in that thing."

Without another word their time was up and the explosive went off. It was a bright flash first then the thunderous sound followed by a wall of smoke and the building crumbling. It wasn't enough to destroy the whole thing but it sure as hell would have taken care of the men on that side as well as have attracted every creature within the city. Taz speed up running past the both of them and running up a flight of metal stairs. "This way." Bridgette had to admit the dog had a better sense of smell than herself. Sure hers was better than a humans but the dog noticed things before she did. It made her momentarily feel weak and useless at times until she remembered how she had a gun and Taz only had his teeth.

They ran into another building, the door at the top was taken off. Just before Bridgette entered the building a haze of bullets hit the wall beside her and made her jump forward nearly jumping into Reynolds. "Street level to the right, left...fuck I can't see them they have to be tucked away behind ruble." How many of these guys were there? Bridgette didn't like this. She expected a handful alright that made some minor sense sort of but what were they at? Ten? Twenty? More? Where were they coming from and why were they here? As she took off down one of the halls Bridgette realized they were going to have to face something other than the government on the other side. She could hear them running already, moving towards the place of the explosion, towards fresh meat.

Throwing the AK47 over her shoulder it swung on the strap and came to rest on her back. "Watch my dog, I'll hold them off. I don't know if there will be more men out there but I sure as hell know what will be waiting for me. I can smell them. The dog will warn you if anything is coming." Reaching behind her she pulled the katana from it's sheath and jumped up on a windowsill looking out into the street. Swinging the blade around once she reaches up for an old cable that had come from a fallen power line. Power had been dead in the city for years so she didn't need to worry about getting fried. Holding onto the cable she was thanking herself for wearing the leather fingerless gloves she had picked off some dead guy a few nights back. She took a tight grip and looked over at another boy in black running their way. He wasn't running after them or else he would have shot her by now. No he was running from something.

She pulled the cord up a little making sure it wouldn't get caught on anything and jumped down swinging towards the street. The man looked back as she came flying towards him. Before he could notice her Bridgette came at him kicking him in the chest and letting the cord go. She flew about a good foot at a diagonal before her feet touched the ground and she landed with all the grace of a swan hitting a pond. The military official didn't spend much time getting to his feet and taking aim at her. Before he could pull the trigger and fill her with lead Bridgette spun around swinging the sword through the air and making it hum. Pulling it back to her side she watched the man a moment longer, his gun dropping to the ground just as a drop of blood slithered from the blade of her sword. His head rolled back where she had cut through his throat and the rest of his body followed collapsing to the ground. From behind her she could hear the pack growling now, they were not ghouls, they were not hellhounds, no these were the rare urban creatures few ever got to see, smart fuckers who would take you out. Zombies, fast, strong, quick, hard as hell to kill. They were what the failed Necroxi became. Rather than hungering for dead flesh they wanted it living and screaming when they ate. "How nice...a family reunion. Two can play at that." Bridgette ran forward towards the crowd of running undead. It was time to lay them to rest and stop their suffering. They would appreciate it in the end.

[MARTIN REYNOLD]

Martin Reynold

December 28th

Reynold ducked his head some as he ran and the explosive went off with that kind of force, making him wonder what the Hell she'd packed it with. Durring the war the lot of them had prefered semtex over most other things but even that stuff didn't have a boom like that. He had the same idea as the Jackal as they ran, following the dog. The most he knew about this city was which street took you where and how to get out real fast if things went south. The dog probably had a better sense of direction than he did around here. Following right up those stairs he ducked some when the bullets came through the window behind the Jackal out of reaction alone. Then he pressed himself to the wall, so that she could pass him, moving back towards the window. She had said they were on ground level, possibly both sides. Turning the gun about in his hands, he held the grips backwards, thumb in the trigger guard. Then he stuck it around the corner, blind firing, spraying the street and sweeping from right to left, dumping the rest of the mag. He was almost sure he didn't hit anyone but it just might keep their heads down for a minute or two.

He just nodded to her as she explained what she was going to do and to watch the dog. In the interem he stripped the empty magazine out of the gun, stuffing it down between his shirt and his vest. Popping open one of the pouches on the make-shift bandolier, a fresh clip was extracted, pushed into the magazine well and given a firm slap on the end to make sure it was locked in. Pulling the charging handle back and letting it snap forward, he looked around as she jumped out. Now, he thought he knew why she was trying to take the lot of what ever was coming on her own. Jackals were a one person army, each of them but Reynold knew something she didn't. The reason Necroxi had been a threat to a lot of soldiers wasn't just because they were hard to terminate but because they had comradery. They watched out for one another, had each others backs. If she thought he was going to stay here and let her play hero she was sorely mistaken. Seeking out a flight of stairs that went down he nodded towards the dog, as if it knew to follow him. Seemed like a smart dog so it was a safe bet to assume that it would.

As he was headed down the dog growled and backed up slightly. Looking back, Reynold scowled, wondering what the Hell was coming for them now. Just as he turned back around one of the men in the black suits moved into the doorway. Both men lifted their guns and opened fire. Reynold staggered back after taking to hits in the guts but he kept firing. The recoil of the SMG served him well, walking the rounds up the man's torso to put three there and two in his head. Stopping for a moment and standing himself up straight, he muttered something about sons of bitches in that thick american accent. Taking a look back to see if the dog was alright he continued down the stairs, swinging about to keep heading down, looking for a door on ground level that faced the same way that the Jackal had gone out.

When he found the door he was looking for he stopped, looking to the dog. "Watch my ass, a'right?" he didn't want anyone sneaking up on him while he was down here. Then he turned back around, yarding the door open. Great...Zombies. He hated these things. They were almost as hard to kill as he was and he loathed that. With the Jackal reading to rush the pack and the pack closing the distance on her he could only provide support fire. Picking up the PM-9, he actualy took the time to sight in and when he fired it was in short bursts. Aiming for the flank of the pack of Zombies, he considered that to be the safest bet in avoiding a friendly fire incident.

However, Reynold wasn't foolish enough to think that this was all a problem. If there were some Zombies here it meant that more might be coming right along with everything else. If they could work their way through this horde of nightmares they might be able to make an escape into the ruins and leave the boys in black to deal with the monsters that were enroute to this location. After all, they had already made a lot of noise and he knew just as well as the Jackal, the government operatives and probably even the damn dog that it was only a matter of time before this whole city came down right on top of them.

[BRIDGETTE WEISFELT]

Bridgette Weisfelt



December 28th

She moved into to swarm of zombies feeling their nails scrape at the leather of her duster. Their groans filled her ears as she stopped in the center and swung her blade up towards their heads. Spinning in the a circle she used all her strength hacking through their necks and watching their bodies hit the ground and pile up around her. Once she had cleared a gap between her and the zombies Bridgette started to fine tune her attacks slashing out at each zombie individually. She cut them from the belly to the chest spilling their organs and cutting their heads off. Removing the head from the body and burning them was the only sure fire way to make sure they stayed down. Since she had no means to burn them she was going to have to settle with removing the heads She had left her flame thrower at home...naturally.

Jumping up she spun through the air landing on the other side of the hoard and hacked at them cutting through the backs of their necks. Their crippled corpses dropped to the ground and the mob turned slowly to come at her again. She could play this game with them forever. Bridgette was far faster than the undead. They were quick but not quick enough. Spinning the blade she sank it into another zombies chest and dropped down when she heard a haze of gunfire. Who the hell was shooting at her now? Glancing up she saw Reynolds unloading a clip into the front line of the zombie hoard. They turned walking towards him now giving Bridgette the chance to take care of them again. Running through she swung her sword back and forth cutting of heads left and right. "Reynolds down now." She yelled at him as she unclipped another grande from her belt and pulled the pin. Tossing it at the hoard she jumped through the air and hit the ground near him sliding at the building.

A few more seconds and the grenade went off sending body parts flying through the air. Burning limbs rained down on the two of them, arms, fingers, legs, jaws, you name it they were getting pelted by it. Taz crouched down cowering behind Reynolds to avoid the hail of body parts and covered his nose in the dirt to escape the scent of rot and death. They didn't have long before gunfire was coming at them again. The men had found them, the explosion likely gave them away. Bridgette spun the AK47 around again and took aim at one of the men sending a short controlled burst his way. Watching him drop to the ground she watched him throw something towards them. Bridgette remembered those from being int he military...they were German. "MOVE." She grabbed Reynolds arm and kicked her dog forward watching as the object triggered and went off. It jumped into the air spinning with a buzz and firing off bullets wildly in every direction. When the bullets ran out there was a loud metallic click and an explosion sending Bridgette flying forward and slamming her body into the ground.

She didn't spend long on the ground when gunfire was aimed at them again she she scrambled back to her feet taking off. "Fuck their German, their German, what the fuck are they doing here?" Another two clean shots fired from above, rooftop, snipers. Who the hell were these people? They seemed to be everywhere. Bridgette just kept running and firing at anyone who jumped up to surprise them. She set out another controlled burst towards a man crouching behind some ruble trying to jump on them. Another few bullets flew past her head making her jump to the side and take one to the side grazing her enough to make it bleed but not enough to stop her. As they turned a corner she met another one of those armed bastards. He put a gun in her face making the last mistake of his life. Pulling her machetes she cut through his throat and watched him drop to the ground holding onto his neck.

"Their trying to herd us, they keep moving us into a smaller more confined area. Something isn't right these men are killers, trained with accuracy like me. They should have killed us already." That was IF they even wanted to kill them. There was something more to this. Bridgette was going to find out one way or another. Taz darted off tot he side jumping into another one of the buildings and Bridgette followed close behind. If they were German and not just using German weapons then she had gone through the same training as them. She knew how to fight them. She knew what they had, what forces they would use. Stopping Bridgette threw Reynolds against a wall and listened closely. Her nose sniffed the air. SHIT, she had known something wasn't right. Bridgette seemed to get very jumpy, she kept looking over her shoulder and aiming her gun around every corner. She should have known, she should have fucking known. This wasn't good, this was a bad place to be in, they had to get out of the city. "Keep moving, don't stop, don't you fucking stop for a second. We need to get out of here, we need to get out of here right now. She stopped again hearing rocks tumble down from a broken wall some distance from them. Grabbing Reynolds she pulled him back again and took aim holding perfectly still. Her hand shook a little as her eyes remained perfectly fixed on the spot. There was no mistaking it, she knew that scent, she knew it better than any scent in the world. You couldn't deny what it was waiting for them. It wasn't some ghoul, it wasn't as clueless as a zombie. It was a born killer, it was the most terrifying creature that had ever walked the earth, the most ruthless. Jackals. Not her brothers no, not the men she fought beside. They were broken, their minds twisted until they were nothing but rabid animals. She didn't understand though, what were they doing here? Were they with the Germans? How could they control them then? They were incapable of loyalty anymore, they were not like her. [color=006699]"Don't....move."

[MARTIN REYNOLD]

Martin Reynold

December 28th

Finishing off his magazine, he looked around quickly to make sure the coast was clear before beginning to reload. It was just as he was ripping the charging handle back that he looked up to see the Jackal charging towards him and heaving another grenade. Stepping to the side, he let her get into his little hiding hole before the blast knocked him down. At least he got down as ordered. However, he swung his foot about, kicking the door shut right before the body parts hit them. Scrambling to his feet, picking his weapon up off the floor. Trowing the door open again, he looked back and forth, up and down before moving out.

Of course, it wasn't long before the bullets were raining down like a hail around them and he was dancing about. Ducking, weaving, doing everything in his power not to get hit in his head, or just too many times in general. Of course, the SMG was up, bursts sprayed where ever a target presented itself. Right up until she yelled. He saw it as well and just like her he knew exactly what it was, he'd had them thrown at him before. Instantly he moved, reaching out towards her. He tried to pull her in front of him, putting himself between the death canister and his current two companions, a meat shield for her and her dog. One arm was up, covering the back of his head with his current weapon. The way he stepped forward some to absorb the impacts, added with the yell of, "Jesus whipped!" signaled that he'd probably taken a couple of hits out of that deal. Of course, when the bullets stopped he moved to let her go and the device detonated. He was tossed into the wall, or what was left of the wall, of a building, about eight feet up, rebounding and dropping to his side on the ground.

He was pushing himself to his feet when she made that startling realization. "What'tha'fuck ya mean? They're Krauts?" he yelled at her when she took off again, following behind. It made no sense. Germans? Here? What was even going on here? He didn't keep thinking, spinning around to open fire on a few operatives that tried to move in behind them, dropping one and forcing the other one to take off for cover. When he turned back around he got treated to the sight of her slashing one's throat and a second breaking from cover for her. Dropping his head he rushed forward, catching him off guard as he drove the bastard forward, straight past her before pushing the operative to the ground. A boot was lifted to stomp on hsi chest before the PM-9 was held out in one hand to hose off at least a third of a magazine into the guy's chest.

When she darted off into a building behind her dog he loosed another barrage of bullets to cover their retreat before following behind. Once and and forced against the wall he executed a forced reload before he held the SMG in one hand, ripping the Judge out of his belt to hold it in the other. When she spun about, looking around he was doing the same thing, keeping his back to hers so that they could have all areas covered. "Ya wanna' tell me what'tha Hell is goin' on?!" he hissed at her. This was getting a little freaky, even for him. When she pulled him back again he looked at her, then backed himself into a corner so that attack couldn't come from behind. Both his guns were up and his aim was shifting from place to place, any area hostiles could come from. She didn't need to worry about him moving, he intended to stay right here until some kind of plan was formulated. Still, he had a suggestion, "We gotta get'ta some kind'a choke point." At least somewhere that all opposing forces were forced to come in one direction or bottle neck in a certian area.