Eric climbs out of the news van with his hands in the air at the man's request.<br/><br/>"Another soldger turned psychopath?" he thinks to himself as he goes over his options, which aren't many. He has a thought about smashing his camera over the dude's head, but dismisses it when he sees he's wearing a helmut, probably bulletproof. He hasn't any weapons, and the only things he could possably trade for his life are half a jar of peanut butter and his mirrored Avators. Out of options, he decides that knowing that the report of his rifle should be enough to call the attention of every beast within a half mile radius will be his final comfort