Cyprus and his new-found allies had been walking for a while through the wasteland. He continued to trudge though the mud and ash as the man that was with him continued to help him walk, and he was still going off on that song; his voice slurred but still audible. After a while, the man that was carrying him parted his lips and issued orders to the others that were with him. Cyprus, even his is current state, could see that this man was the leader.<br/><br/>What made Cyprus a little sad was the fact that he told one of the soldiers to stop humming along to the tune he was singing as it warmed his heart to know that he wasn't the only one that liked to have a little fun now and then. It was at this time did they take on an organized formation: one in the front of him, one in the back of him and the rest, including him, in the middle. One man, whom the leader addressed as Phillips pulled out a booklet and began flipping through it, searching for the answer to something. More chatter made its way to Cyprus' ears, but he could only make out the word 'meds', a word that he didn't hear much of these days.<br/><br/>"Sir! I need you to lower your voice!" Another man, whom was named McKinnley, shouted to the leader. "We don't know what's watchin-"<br/><br/>The sudden pause in hit statement was due to the fact that a peculiar lead projectile had found its way into his skull. Needless to say he collapsed and the whole party went into panic.<br/><br/>There was an explosion of movement and speech and in a short amount of time he was behind a car, Phillips pushing a service rifle into his hands and telling him something about it not being his "forte", whatever that meant.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">I guess he means I got to shoot someone with it</span>, he thought to himself. Right after, he peeked over the hood of the car, his eyes darting around for the sniper.<br/><br/>The stimpak was starting to wear off.