((Since nothing happened to Thomas, I'll continue with him.))<br/><br/>Thomas reached the fire escape and began making his way down it. He reached the second floor and looked in a window only to see the Triage center. He wished immediately he hadn't looked when he saw creatures ripping apart the helpless patients and doctors. He went to where the ladder was meant to be, but realized it wasn't there. All he saw was the ground ten feet below him. "Doesn't reach the ground..." He complained aloud, "That's a fact..." He pulled the magazine from the M40 and dropped it to the ground, which it hit with a dull thud. Thomas then began lowering himself down the fire escape. Once his legs were hanging out, he began lowering his upper body down. After a few moments he was hanging by his arms, his feet about four feet from the ground. He let go, landing on his feet, but they gave beneath his weight and he fell onto his back. His back was sore, but for the most part he was fine. Thomas quickly realized he landed on the firearm. 'Way to go Zyntur...' he thought, 'You'll be lucky if the damn thing even fires now. Smart move, drop a 180 pound wolf onto a weapon, you deserve a frickin' medal for that...' Thomas got up, picked up the rifle, and slammed the mag back in. He looked around and saw he was in an alleyway. He looked to his right, then to his left. He didn't know which way was safer. He'd trade anything in the world for a Cornershot right about now, but since he didn't have one, he had a fifty-fifty chance at picking the safer path. "When in doubt, go left." Thomas decided. He turned to the left and began moving down the alley. He peered around the corner to see if he had made the right choice...