Becca's eyes cast about nervously as they worked their way deeper into the structure. By now she had unslung her rifle and was holding it tightly in an almost white-knuckled grip. Fuck did she hate the ever-building tension and suspense of their surroundings. It was pressing in on her and she felt weak and small and outmatched. She realized how dumb that was being that she was scared of the silence and the shadows but it made her mind play tricks. Her hands shook slightly and a little whimper passed her lips when Fanya ordered them to spread out. That never seemed to work out. She just stopped and watched the others, hoping someone would just stay close so that she could use them for moral support.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>