Fuck.<br/><br/>Heather couldn't do anything but hold on to Jake with her life and cry like it was being taken away. Seeing them on the television was one thing, but having them so close to knocking on the door was another. Do they still have the mind to actually knock? Would make this whole thing that much easier to handle if they bothered to. What a stupid thing to think.<br/><br/>There was so much commotion around her. So many words that were being flung around that she couldn't register. With her head practically stuck on Jake's chest, she could only tell that the cops had made it into the lobby by the loudest of all the sounds they made; namely the gunfire and slamming of doors. Heather only moved when Jake did, staying as close to him as she could until he pushed her away from him slightly, but only to look her in the eyes.<br/><br/>Heather was, to say the least, a mess. She didn't need to wear a lot of make-up, thank God, but the foundation and eye liner that she did have on smudged slightly thanks to her burying her head into Jake's chest and her tears. There wasn't much evidence on his shirt - that apology would definitely be an awkward one. With him no longer holding her, she crossed her arms under her chest, rubbing her forearms with hands as if she was really cold.<br/><br/>So far, the brunette has been very vocal about how she felt about this situation. It mostly involved cursing and ranting, but now, she was having trouble figuring things out. She practically just saw a man get clawed and bitten to death outside of the motel. There's a convict in the lobby cursing (but not as much as she has in the last hour) and a cop considering letting him go. Those zombies got bored of their food and were probably going to make their way over here. Nothing is good about this situation at all.<br/><br/>All of this cynical, pessimistic thinking left Heather frozen in place. She didn't bother turning around to look at the mess behind her.