Jackson tried to gauge the overall feel of the group. His soft attempts to corral them to order had failed miserably, but he knew groups of civilians behaved differently than convicts or even other officers. Both, in their own way, prescribed to a sense of order. Alpha dog, commanding officer, whatever you wanted to call it, there was someone to look to for direction and for this situation it was too early for him to throw his hat in for consideration.<br/><br/>The good news was that everyone wanted to help. That actually was better than everyone losing their shit and trying to climb over each other to get to safety. There had to be a way he could use that, especially for the time ahead. He’d saw Dante leave for the moment, but what he’d done hadn’t really hit him until he came back and hurled in the trashcan. For what it was worth, his heart went out to him. “That was dangerous, Dante. At least tell us next time!” he could have backed the guy up. Anything to reduce the chance of them catching them all off guard.<br/><br/>He wanted to go back to their conversation on the bus depot, he held up his hand “I’m pretty damn impressed that we have so many volunteers to do something so risky<em>’stupid…monumentally stupid’</em>but I think a small group would make things a little easier. Me, Dante, and Track Star can make the bus. I’ll be the muscle, Dante can be the talent, and Track Star is our grease girl. It’s like those old school group games, right? The ones where you roll the dice?” thought the humor was a little off, there was still some logic in what he said, at least he thought there was.<br/>