Nathan was more than glad when A.J. seemed to catch his train of thought without hesitation. That was good; seconds counted here and the weight of the wooden pole was slowing him down enough. He heaved it up the building an arm's length at a time, ignoring the pain it put in his shoulders, but it seemed to drag on for centuries until the other man came to help: more than doubling the pace. When it rolled over the edge, Nathan put a foot on it and pulled the cord taut so A.J., who was already ready with his knife again, could cut it easily.<br/><br/>When the other man called for a brick, Nathan didn't say a word, just ran over and grabbed one. He had been eying them too, though he had planned to knot the brick--or maybe half or it--and cord into the towel he'd come over with and sling it across that way. The backpack turned out to be far more convenient.<br/><br/>Still, upon a second inspection, the bag wasn't completely empty, either, and might actually weight too much now. He glanced at the bag and up at Rainie, knowing that he would never make that throw. But A.J. Seemed confident, so he didn't say anything. He was calmer now, after the preceding had gone so smoothly, and didn't even flinch when Rainie threw herself back over the edge to catch her lifeline. His two new acquaintances were turning out to be very competent people. After all,<span style="font-style: italic">they</span>hadn't been the ones to botch their escape; that was Nathan's own fault and they were calmly moving to correct it.<br/><br/>It made him feel like a kid again: trying to help and only making things worse. Surviving so long on his own had made him confident for the first time since high school, but people always seemed to take that away, anymore. Nathan was a smart kid with high potential, but he was surrounded by fully capable and self-sufficient adults.<span style="font-style: italic">Why does everyone else seem to know exactly what they're doing?</span><br/><br/>A.J.'s slow turn towards him caught his attention and the two locked eyes for just a second. â€œI...am going to kill you.â€ the other man growled with such repressed venom that Nathan actually feared that keeping his gaze there any longer might make the other man do exactly that.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">No. I'm as capable as the next man and I can put on a confident face just as well as they all do.</span><br/><br/>â€œLater.â€ he said calmly, and turned in time to see the bags landing near them. The two boys had only been locked in that gaze for a second, but Nathan hoped it had been enough to instill at least a little more confidence in the other man that this strange fire-starter actually knew what he was about.<span style="font-style: italic">Put on a good face. Just like everyone else.</span>He told himself.<span style="font-style: italic">And when did I start referring to that boy as a man? He probably can't even grow a full beard yet.</span><br/><br/>He let A.J. Pick up both bags. Nathan's own weighed more than both of them combined, anyways.<span style="font-style: italic">I need less stuff</span>Then smiled back up at Rainie. Everyone seemed to have calmed down by now. Or at least focused past their panic. That was comforting. They would each do what they could to get everyone out of here alive. Nathan nodded at her in confirmation, â€œSee you there.â€<br/><br/>Then, once more, he had to pause when she threw the line over the edge just around the corner.<span style="font-style: italic">Where is she...<span style="font-weight: bold">The bus?</span></span>That hadn't even occurred to him. Probably because it wasn't exactly against the building. It was a few feet away from the wall and she would have to throw herself into a dangerous diagonal leap, without a place to stand, just to reach it. But if she could do that, and not fall off or twist an ankle, she would actually beat A.J. And Nathan down. They would have to hurry to get her off that bus before too many infected noticed she was up there.<br/><br/>That meant there wasn't any time to waste. Nathan reached into one of the deep pockets on his pants and grabbed two toys he'd made for emergencies. They were about the size and shape of a man's index finger and one was made of duct tape, the other of aluminum foil. Both had a match protected in a little sleeve on the side. Upon reaching the edge of the building facing the street, Nathan flicked those sleeves and threw the toys across the street one at a time. The matches flared to life in their confines and set off wicks hidden with them. They weren't the most reliable of grenades, but how much can you expect of an explosive crafted with duct tape and a food processor?<br/><br/>He was aiming for a building on the other side of the bus and the street; far enough away to not risk lighting the bus--not that it mattered with the book store transforming into a giant baker's ovenâ€”but close enough that the tightly packed and surprisingly heavy makeshift grenades could easily reach it and hopefully draw the zombies' attention away from the bus and the CD shop.<br/><br/>The first grenade hit next to a second floor window, dropped, and exploded just above some decorative bushes in desperate need of trimming. White sparks and globs of molten metal bounced off walls or stuck in place and instantly spread into fire. The bushes, a window and the front door went up in flame and the there was a general shift in the horde on the ground. The infected were always drawn to fire. It was a sign of intelligent life. The second grenade flew into an alley beside the building and set off a pile of trash to much less effect.<br/><br/>Nate was satisfied. He unslung his shotgun, glance at A. J. and dashed for the door to go downstaires.