A call to grab Viktor's attention spoke thoughts he'd been holding since they stumbled upon the crimson tide. The quicker they all got the hell away from this slaughterhouse, the better their chances of making it where they were going. Any moment wasted was going to pay a toll on that injured man as well. Precious time that could be spent finding help and getting him to shelter was being wasted gathering meager bits of supply from the eviscerated logging crew. Provided they just hurried and made a beeline for the city, there would hardly be a reason to stick around and risk running into the perpetrator of the killings.<br/><br/>"Right, let's get out of here," Viktor replied, standing up. He offered Inga a sympathetic pat to the shoulder on his way up. "Men, get going. Guard up. Whatever killed these people might still be out there. If we're lucky, it's full, but I'm not taking any chances. Move!" He spoke loud and clear, directing his party back towards the road with a point. Tugging his hood back up to guard his head from the air's cruel chill, he then followed them, making his way towards the front of the entire group.<br/><br/>Luckily for everyone, no monsters were found. No bandits were run into. No dangerous anomalies were triggered. The walk, while long and tiring, was a safe one. Idle chatter covered the hours spent moving, though not for a moment did guard drop. There was clear discomfort in some of the men's tones. Even a hardened survivor could be shaken to the core by some sights, provided they hadn't completely let go of their humanity. And after the morning's horrendous chain of events, it was understandable that some were just tired and in need of a place to sit down and rest.<br/><br/>Eventually, by what must have been three or four hours past midday, a rusted sign came into view along the path. Its paint had flaked, and the words were barely legible, but the city behind it made it clear they'd reached their destination. Crumbled ruins of skyscrapers, whether destroyed by bombs or simply falling apart with age, reached into the clouds in a shadow of their former glory. Old, decorative architecture eroded away with lack of care, a relic of an age long lost. Even on the road ahead of them, some remains of old civilization were clear. Piles of rusted shards of metal, broken glass, and empty tires littered the road, the most intact vehicles still missing many of their parts. The road itself, cracked and overgrown with grass and weeds, still led into the city with bright lines guiding the path. Past the city limits, inside the border of fallen concrete, a still-glowing sign stood above a staircase leading underground.<br/><br/>"We're here," Viktor called out, approaching the descending path. Not one to take risks at the entrance, he pulled his gun over his shoulder and took careful hold of the weapon, lowering his stance and moving downstairs with his back to the wall. He moved carefully and gradually into the station, making sure the coast was clear. Inside, some sign of inhabiting could be seen. The train tunnel, empty and lit up, bore a marking left there by paint. A crude arrow pointed eastward, and above it was tagged 'Underbelly.' A wide expanse of repurposed stations, tunnels, and even trains, the Underbelly was an entire city of its own right, hidden from the world by the surface's ruin. While they would find safety in the townships, the tunnels themselves were still treacherous. Sometimes, one could encounter highwaymen. Sometimes, mutants. Yet other times, one could find something much worse than either.<br/><br/>Viktor approached the tunnel, carefully lowering himself onto the tracks. The others in the hunting party followed suit, those equipped with flashlights turning them on to illuminate the darkness. They were nearly at their destination. Finally, the group could get rest, and that near-dead fellow could finally have someone look at him.