He watched Amber and Logan dart into the bunker, and he was still a good distance behind them. His heart screamed at him to stop, but him mind told him to ignore that useless blood bag and for the love all things holy, keep running! He had no idea what was behind him, and something told him he didn't want to know. He could hear something breathing behind him. Something big and angry. Pounding forward he kept repeating to himself to keep going, the door was just-<br/><br/>Something grabbed his foot, tripping him mere feet from the door. He hit the ground hard, the force of the impact causing his glasses to fly from his face into the bunker. His vision swam, partially because he was horribly near-sighted without his glasses, and half because the force of the impact probably gave him a mild concussion. The thing that tripped him kept hold of his leg and wouldn't let go. Despite trying to crawl the last few feet into the bunker, the hand had too tight a grip on him.<br/><br/>"Amber! Logan! Help! Come on! Gimme a hand!" He shouted into the door, hoping; praying they could still hear them.