Raymond wasn't happy with the current hand he'd been dealt. Sure, he had nothing against this KimRae girl. But where he stood, he was no closer to what he'd set out for. What he was a hell of a lot closer to though was dying. From where he stood there was someone with a gun close by with every reason to shoot him, a bullet in his lower stomach, a ranger who was adamant that they save a person they hardly knew, and noise was echoing in the street from that bullet likely. Sure, Victor's heart was in the right place, but Raymond was a little sore over it. Having a bullet wound and pending danger all around you was a good way to get in a stressful mood. All Raymond offer in response to Victor was a nod, he was too far into this to turn back. He was going to need this ranger to live, and so he decided while they were trading words to run. He was certain he could have talked the girl down, but it seemed Victor had the same motives.<br/><br/>He didn't examine his own wound until after he was outside again, he was bleeding, but he'd seen plenty worse upon himself. The familiar sharp sting surrounded by numbness cut away at him once more as he continued to walk. So often in the Wasteland people took bullets and walked away from it. Raymond couldn't help but wonder if some genetic mutation had happened to cut some amount of the population's pain nerves. Though, he theorized that it was more psychological than physical. Those thoughts quickly left his head as he looked down, some bloody prints lead forwards. He started to follow them for a moment until he turned his head at the sound of a howling voice that must have reached for miles. While they were only hearing the echo of it, the tone of it certainly wasn't a person. Raymond could sense the hostility. He was just hoping no more gunshots would attract whatever was shouting to their location.<br/><br/>Turning his head back to the tracks, it only took a few moments of following them until he found her. There she was, her head face down in the dirt. For a moment, Raymond thought she could have been dead. His eyebrows narrowed as he registered a feeling he hadn't felt for a long time. Any corpses he'd generally found were ones he'd loot from because they were dead on arrival, or living beings he'd have to kill. It had been years since Raymond had looked upon a body and actually felt upset by it, that was how some lived in the Wastelands, and most commonly, those were the ones to survive.<br/><br/>He thought about it logically, with the amount of blood loss and what looked to be the bleeding point, she wasn't likely dead. And with the adrenaline kicking in, she probably wasn't unconscious either. She was more than likely just shocked, not too badly, he hoped. He didn't feel safe trusting the instincts of a survivor, he could have a knife in his throat if she panicked. "Kim, it's me, Raymond." He said, stepping closer to her. "I was one of the men from earlier, I'm here to help you, I can ease the pain." Raymond said, speaking softer than usual, the last thing that would be good for her would be if she was freaking out. He squatted down next to her, his own wound spiking in pain for a moment as the area was adjusted during his body movement. He put a hand on her back, for assurance. "I need permission to look at your wound so I can help." Raymond requested.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">--------------------</div><br/><br/>Six soldiers exactly walked through the streets of Manhattan on patrol, it was much more open than any of them would like. But the New California Republic had taken an interest to owning "key areas" in Manhattan. Not many people understood the point in owning the city, but the grunt soldiers only did as asked. Their automatic riffles were pointed forward and ready to fire, the boots moved swiftly through the streets, their eyes were in constant search for anything that would move. Silence was the only thing that came from their mouths, save for their breaths. No one dared wanted to attract any unwanted attention of snipers or lurkers. A fair fight was a fair one, but with streets like this, they found themselves hugging the walls of buildings in their path.<br/><br/>It was at that moment they heard the echoing roar, very close. "WE ARE THE FUTURE!" It echoed, one of the soldiers even foolishly broke stance and covered his ears.<br/><br/>"Let's move!" One of the soldiers said, hesitantly. But orders were orders, and they were to clear anything they found to be a threat. The soldiers moved in formation once more, taking only moments to turn a few corners in haste. When they spotted it, guns were raised quickly, four automatic rifles. One solider watched their six while the other went over to the man identified as alive. The solider realized the man was from the Brotherhood of Steel, but despite bad blood, protocol was protocol, and he was to attempt to keep this man alive.<br/><br/>"Sir, I need you to calm down! Can you stand!" The young soldier asked, his words being muffled by the sound of rapid fire, blood came from the beast, but it only faltered, as it barked out in pain. One soldier landed a burst of bullets into the beast's eyeball, which caused another screech in pain. It replied with a slam of his sledgehammer, leaving a lot more than just blunt trauma damage to the head of the solider it hit in the firing line.