Blue had caught him just as he had crossed into the security booth. Marcus wasn’t sure which kept him at bay more: Blue’s suggestion or the dead security guard slumped over the console. Hm. He poked his head out enough to gauge how much effort would go into prying the gate apart. He and Lex could do it, if they really tried. Marcus was used to demanding physical labor; his brother would just have to deal. If it came to that. “We’ll do that, if cutting it doesn’t work,” he called back out, but he was already disappearing into the control booth and didn’t put any effort into being very loud. The dead security guard - Aznee, the silver nametag called him when Marcus got close enough to read it - lay with his head on the console, a massive hole blown through the side of his skull. A pool of dried blood had collected on the console, the man’s lap, the floor around their feet. Aznee stared on in perpetual horror and his lips had curled in on themselves, revealing teeth that were so coated in blood they were almost black. He gagged a little bit as he was doing it, but Marcus wound up summoning all of his willpower and constitution to delve into the man’s pockets, his belt, his jacket, looking for anything that might aid them. He found an unwieldy keyring, another flashlight, a pistol - which he immediately claimed and tucked down the back of his pants next to his own gun.<br/><br/>Defeated and without bolt cutters in hand, Marcus took the walk of shame out of the booth. “Okay, we’ll try things your way,” he told Blue when he was within earshot. He didn’t like the thought of her going in alone. She could just hole up there and not let them in. She already had new clothes to keep her going, and he had no way of knowing if she’d stolen anything from their home. It was a fifty-fifty chance, but it was still the best one they had. “Alright buddy.” Marcus swooped down and picked Lex up by his shirt, holding him upright until his older brother found his footing beneath him.