A-1
Look away from the ball.
The technician managed to snapped out of his shock as he heard Hound's yelping. He was unstuck enough to slammed himself against the wall behind him and fire another shot in front of Hound when it lunged over at him again. "I SAID DOWN YOU MUTT!"
Five shots left.
At that point, Patrick quickly tapped on his right ankle with a hand and continued running down stairs to avert his glaze and run away from Hound's flaming mouth. Only way to be sure if that blast hit its mark is either by not seeing the fire breathing dog following him or hearing it chasing him relentlessly in a slower pace. More footsteps were heard from above, making turning back to see moot as he knew more people were on to him. Seven steps in and Patrick felt his right ankle straining again. Even if it was less worse than before, the pain will grow if he put enough stress in it. There was the idea of just jumping all the way down. Even if it seemed not to be far off, Patrick didn't want to risk it if his ankles were hurting from jumping two stair cases down.
Patrick stopped right at the bottom of the stairs way. The pain was enough for him to stop for a second and firmly touch the ankle with both the open palm of his left hand and the fingers of his right hand that he still held his pistol with. He didn't bother looking around this small area for a camera when he knew they already know he's here. The tech hobbled himself over to the door and tried to push it open. Locked. Fucking machine, Patrick thought, Dumb asses placing security over fire safety. He moved his right hand away from his ankle and pointed the pistol at the electronic lock.
Four shots left.
The tech pushed the door open and, feeling a full recovery from both of his ankles, ran away. He took a brief time to look and see that he was in the back area of the convention building. That point, Patrick looked up above the area by the exit he came from to look for cameras. Seeing one not too far from the door, Patrick quickly aimed and fired at that camera.
Three shots left.
He buttoned up his overcoat and resumed running straight ahead, heading toward a less crowded area away from the main entrance or any other entrances. Patrick made a slight left toward a side walk and began walking in a faster pace to get himself more blended in with the crowd. As his walking became a more steady pace, he was mentally praying to himself that he would not see or that dog; he'll take out running those guards over that thing...except dealing with Pyro or any other firebugs.
Five shots left.
At that point, Patrick quickly tapped on his right ankle with a hand and continued running down stairs to avert his glaze and run away from Hound's flaming mouth. Only way to be sure if that blast hit its mark is either by not seeing the fire breathing dog following him or hearing it chasing him relentlessly in a slower pace. More footsteps were heard from above, making turning back to see moot as he knew more people were on to him. Seven steps in and Patrick felt his right ankle straining again. Even if it was less worse than before, the pain will grow if he put enough stress in it. There was the idea of just jumping all the way down. Even if it seemed not to be far off, Patrick didn't want to risk it if his ankles were hurting from jumping two stair cases down.
Patrick stopped right at the bottom of the stairs way. The pain was enough for him to stop for a second and firmly touch the ankle with both the open palm of his left hand and the fingers of his right hand that he still held his pistol with. He didn't bother looking around this small area for a camera when he knew they already know he's here. The tech hobbled himself over to the door and tried to push it open. Locked. Fucking machine, Patrick thought, Dumb asses placing security over fire safety. He moved his right hand away from his ankle and pointed the pistol at the electronic lock.
Four shots left.
The tech pushed the door open and, feeling a full recovery from both of his ankles, ran away. He took a brief time to look and see that he was in the back area of the convention building. That point, Patrick looked up above the area by the exit he came from to look for cameras. Seeing one not too far from the door, Patrick quickly aimed and fired at that camera.
Three shots left.
He buttoned up his overcoat and resumed running straight ahead, heading toward a less crowded area away from the main entrance or any other entrances. Patrick made a slight left toward a side walk and began walking in a faster pace to get himself more blended in with the crowd. As his walking became a more steady pace, he was mentally praying to himself that he would not see or that dog; he'll take out running those guards over that thing...except dealing with Pyro or any other firebugs.