"Fuck.." Matt breathed, panting somewhat heavily. It was hard sprinting at full speed whilst carrying an assault rifle and forty pound pack full of supplies, but there was no way Jacob was going to slow down, not with those fucking infected right on his tail. The fuckers could run - and run quite fast, and it seemed as if they never got tired. At least he was getting closer and closer to the airplane. He then glanced over his shoulder beforee quickly stopping and turning around. Raising the rifle to his shoulder, he aimed down the sights and squeezed the trigger, picking off the closest infected to him before he turned and started sprinting towards the airplane again. Within a few moments, he was at the plane. Jacob climbed up the cockpit as fast as he could, then climbed in through the smashed window then through the cabin door, and bolting it shut behind him. He then slung his M4 around his shoulder, sighing in relief as he did. That had been a close call with the infected, and for all he knew, he'd have many more close calls.<br/><br/>The M4 had been the standard rifle he'd used all through the MArines and his employment with Blackwater. Jacob had tried the M16a4, but hadn't liked the three round burst it had to offer, so he'd stuck with the trusty M4. The rifle currently had a suppressor attached, a forward hand-grip, and an ACOG (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advanced_Combat_Optical_Gunsight) scope attached. Of course, Jacob had brought along all the possible attachments for the weapon, including an infared scope, which was useful during the night, seeing as the infected glowed a lovely white color; a nightvision scope, an M203 grenade launcher attachment which he'd yet to use, though he imagined it would create quite the lovely mess of infected bodies; and of course a red dot sight.<br/><br/>Jacob made his way down the small staircase to the main level of the large airplane, then tossed the bag of supplies to the ground and set his rifle down, making sure the safety was on. He could hear the infected outside the airplane, undoubtedly waiting for him to return outside so that they could have something to feast on. Jacob had sworn he'd never be one of their meals, or much less, one of them. But unfortunately, he'd have to move out sooner or later, seeing as he estimated he only had a couple more days worth of water. He had enough rations to last several years, but not enough water to go along with them. But now that he was the only one, there was no more sharing in the equation.<br/><br/>Now he just had to kill some time, so Jacob took a seat, then propped his feet up on the dead body of Diaz which he'd yet to remove, then reached over to snatch up his iPod. He'd been smart enough to bring along some sort of solar charger that someone had given him, so he hadn't had to worry about the battery going dead. The iPod would at least give him some sort of entertainment, whether it be listening to music, or tilting the small toy side to side while playing a racing game.