<div style="text-align: center">《 <a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.pinimg.com%2Foriginals%2Fde%2Fd4%2F05%2Fded405bed78c5644522cf79ef6332106.jpg&amp;hash=332857003efd9c27b5bc76841a427c14" href="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/de/d4/05/ded405bed78c5644522cf79ef6332106.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Dan </a>》<br/>
<i>Location: KOA campground<br/>
Addressing: Armando</i>​</div><br/><i>Fuck, fuck, fuck!</i><br/><br/>Dan didn't know which way to go. He had no idea where the shot came from; it had shocked him so much that he hadn't placed its direction, and now he didn't even know if the shooter (or shoot<i>ers</i>) were behind the table or on his side of it.<br/><br/><i>Shit, shit, shit!</i><br/><br/>He knew his hands were shaking and he felt the blood drain from his face. This was too real too fast. He'd listened with half an ear when Rebel talked about situations he had been in; to Dan they were as real as the shows on TV or FPS games.<br/><br/>Then he saw Armando and his heart leapt for a moment at the thought that the bearded right-hand of Hale might have been the one to kill the refugees. But<i>why?</i>He had plenty of chances to kill them, if that was his plan.<br/><br/>As soon as Armando waved him over, Dan dashed over and slid behind him with a dive that would have made his college baseball coach proud. Quickly he scrambled up beside Armando to see if he could safely see what the fuck was happening out in the clearing. His heart pounded against the top of his chest and Dan couldn't keep his hands from shaking or his teeth from wanting to shatter. He felt like he did after a car accident; all adrenaline and no way to respond.<br/><br/>"What?" He hissed, snapping his face towards Armando. "You think we're part of whatever this is?" Dan's blue eyes shadowed beneath his furrowed eyebrows as he gave the man a look of disbelief. "How could you<i>ever</i>think we'd be part of this?"<br/><br/>Armando's next assessment made the bile rise to the base of his throat. He was beginning to feel like he needed to puke like a turkey vulture who felt threatened and fly away. He could have used Rebel's presence right then. Though Armando seemed to have a good idea about where the shooter might be and where he might go, but Dan didn't<i>know </i>him. He hadn't traveled with him and patrolled with him and built up that dependable confidence that came with time side-by-side.<br/><br/>He turned to glance towards the simple fisherman and back to Armando. "He probably doesn't realize what's going on," he assumed, thinking that Eddie might not comprehend the idea that they were under attack. "You keep cover on the shooter." God, he hoped there was only one. "I'll get Eddie out of danger," he said, starting to move hunched over in the fisherman's direction.