<div class="floatleft">(http://i1191.photobucket.com/albums/z466/Corvus269/Characters/TimThomasHead.jpg)</div><div class="floatleft">  <br/><br/></div><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"> Tim Thomas</span></span></strong><br/><strong>Age:</strong>37<br/><strong>Crime:</strong>Killed 13 and injured 7 in a grocery store shooting spree<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Outside the burning library ---> random alley way.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Phaedra, Drake<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Grimacing with the pain of the board that was nailed deeply into his butt cheek, Tim clamored to his feet atop the grimy, dingy snow bank on which he'd landed. The thick, solid gluteus maximus muscles flexed as he shifted from his hands and knees into a standing position, causing the board to move and the nail to tilt, biting even deeper into the meaty flesh of his rear.<strong>"Son of a BITCH,"</strong>he bellowed thunderously, twisting his torso in an attempt to pry the board loose, but the chains on his wrists denied him the simple luxury of reaching behind his back.<strong>"Oh that's just fucking great,"</strong>he complained further, waddling away from the burning library.<strong>"Someone wanna help me out here and get this god damn board out of my ass?"</strong>He waddled gingerly away from the burning building, trying his best not to flex his wounded flank, a task that proved near impossible when one was walking. Each step felt like a monumental needle was being jabbed into his butt, causing the large, bearded man to wince quietly in protest.<br/><br/>Suddenly the sounds of sirens joined in chorus with the high pitched squeal of the fire alarm and low droning sound of the ravenous fire, the alternating red and blue strobes of the police vehicles painting their ominous display over everything in the surrounding area. Tires screeched as the vehicles skidded to a halt around them forming a loose barrier of sorts. Men in blue poured from those vehicles, guns drawn and yelling frantically for them all to put their hands behind their heads.<strong>"FUCK YOU!"</strong>It wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done, curse at seemingly a whole precinct of armed police, all waving their guns in his direction.<strong>"Aww shit,"</strong>Tim mummbled. He knew that look on their faces. He'd seen before when he was stationed overseas; they were scared, and they had guns drawn on them. That's never a good combination.<br/><br/>The voices whispered in the back of Tim's mind, first the rougher sounding one telling him to run. Tim's instincts agreed with this voice, he wanted to get the hell out of there. Now! The second voice began softly whispering and Tim growled. This voice was annoying, sounding all peaceful and submissive.<strong>"Shut your trap, bitch,"</strong>he mumbled to himself. He took a step back and the nail bit deeper, reminding him of its presence. He wanted to run, but... the chains. He wasn't sure how far he would get, but he had to try. He wasn't about to go back to prison... or worse, not without a fight.<br/><br/>Suddenly, there was an explosion that sent them all through the air. Tim managed to turn, his hands breaking his fall before skidding on his stomach. Instantly, his combat training kicked in and he covered his head with his hands for a moment until the pinging of shrapnel and debris faded. He jumped to his feet, the adrenaline dulling the pain of the board nailed to his ass. The board... it was gone. Glancing behind him, he flashed a toothy grin to Phaedra as she said something about getting it in gear.<strong>"Thanks darlin."</strong>He liked her. She had spunk. The ringing in his ears slowly faded as Tim noticed the ruined, charred shell of a few cars near the burning building. Police officers were staggering back to their feet and Tim knew it was now or never.<br/><br/>There was a little slack in the chains around his ankles, not enough to allow him to sprint, but enough to permit a quick, awkward looking shuffle. He noticed Drake bolt down an alley way and he took off behind him, running as fast as his chained feet would take him. Glancing back over his shoulder from time to time to check for pursuit, he didn't notice anyone following. He'd lost sight of Drake, unable to keep up with those damned chains preventing him from running. For a big man, Tim had deceptive speed. Sure he couldn't keep up with some of the smaller people, but he could get around much quicker than one might assume by his size. He ducked into the next alley way that he came across, pressing his back to the wall as he panted, catching his breath. Where were the others? Had he lost everyone? He needed to lose these damned chains.<strong>"Fuck... now what,"</strong>he said between panting breaths<strong>"Think, Tim.. THINK."</strong>