It was all just a blur. Moments were covered in a haze like the ones he'd known partying hard in Louisiana in his late teens, but the fugue he was experiencing now was brought on by trauma as opposed to the drugs he so enjoyed. It set in as they drove off, leaving the man whatever fate awaited him. One moment Jason was holding his hand out for the stranger to take and in the next… His head swam as he recalled being nearly flung from the truck as they started speeding away. He still wasn't sure he managed to stay in the truck bed, but the next thing he could comprehend was the fact that he was hugging desperately to boxes of guns and ammunition that he had managed to haul from the stranger's SUV. A bitter, grating laugh sprang forth from his throat as the realization that they just robbed that poor bastard of the only things he was capable of defending himself with. It looked like the world turned into hell just in time for them to burn in it.<br/><br/>After another hazy stretch of time, Jason noticed the truck come to a sudden and screeching halt. The abrupt motion caused him to slam once more into the interior frame of the truck bed. Slowly, he rose to peer at the world that surrounded them. So much death, so much destruction littered the street. Letting the wasteland around them fall from focus, Jason turned to see what had impeded their progress. What Jason first noticed, what would have been the first thing that any sane person would notice, was the gun pointing directly at his head. Whether he would admit it or not, the front of Jason's pants grew warm for the second time that day.<br/><br/>As the tension finally drained from the situation, they were allowed to go on their way. The looks that the soldiers gave them as they continued by were unsettling. Another couple of blocks flew by before they finally pulled into the driveway of what he assumed was Miguel's house, but Jason supposed that none of them were going to be living in Redfield for much longer. Stumbling in after everyone, the disquieted man sat down in the front hall and began to cry. All he could remember was how close he had come to falling from the truck as they sped away from the SUV. His life had truly almost come to an end. Quietly choking sobs racked his body as he attempted to contain his emotions. He hoped no one would hear him as he sat, a fragile being in a stranger's front hallway. Though, just as quick as this small rebuff from suffering, it was over.<br/><br/>As Jason heard Miguel command everyone to head for the truck, he jumped to his feet and rigorously wiped his eyes. Despite the now lack of tears, it was still clear that he had been emotionally distraught, but so was everyone else right now. Without another word Jason hopped into the truck bed and awaited the time to leave. It came quickly enough as everyone else piled into the vehicle. The assorted weapons taken as they escaped their previous near death situation still littered the area where Jason stood.<br/><br/>The sky managed to look so peaceful while glaring down at the bloodied Mojave that their beaten down group drove through. It seemed, for the briefest of moments, that they might get out of this, out of here, out of hell. A check point lay before them. Just beyond that was freedom, but it was freedom that they weren't going to see as the staccato oppression of gunfire rained upon them. Glass exploded in all directions from the front of the truck and the wind swept some of it into Jason's face. Fortunately,  none of the shards entered any orifice, but the cuts along his jaw line were notably bleeding. Putting pressure on the wound, he ducked back down to try and take some of the available cover. There, lying out next to him like a wanton lover, was a handgun and a clip of ammunition…