After Jackson was sure that Dante was in the clear, he backed up quickly. His eyes darted to the car one more time before he turned and ran the rest of the way. He could be a brave motherfucker if he needed to be, but right now he was on autopilot, and had a strong suspicion that he needed to pee. Really bad. Oddly, he wondered why shots had come from behind him earlier, and saw the two downed zombies. Apparently, his newfound partner wasn’t going to go down easy.<br/><br/>They were close enough to hear the moans of their hunger. His pine tingled in the few seconds it took to clear the space between himself and the motel door. Though he did have time, he moved like he was fresh out, and his heart was doing jumping jacks in his chest. When he finally made it in, he held the door shut. And turned the latch to lock it. He was going into different directions at once,  checking on Dante, getting a count of who was there, trying to find out who was most useful at a glance. His gun was out, but not aimed at anyone in particular. “Gotta think…” he muttered.<br/><br/>He shook his head hard, as if to clear it, and then spoke for the benefit of everyone in the room “My name is Andrew Jackson. I work Vice for Detroit Metro…I’m going to say this quickly…I don’t know anymore about this than any of you, but I sincerely believe that being in a room with a huge amount of glass could be bad for us…” He looked around again, and saw a small Asian girl with a shotgun. God bless her. He already knew if she tried to fire that in anger, she’d either be knocked on her ass, or not in the mood to be patted on her shoulder for a day or so.<br/><br/>All the same, she was the girl behind the register, and he didn’t get to where he was, stepping on people’s turf without cause…or a warrant. “Pardon me, miss. Is there any ways in here, outside of that door…also, is there a way for us to get to higher ground? Maybe a set of inner stairs, or something? This glass…it makes me nervous” He looked around at the others, hoping like hell he could get them to understand where he was coming from. If it was a corporate building, he could understand…they make those things pretty durable, especially in a post-9/11 world, but this?<br/><br/>In the meanwhile, as he waited to see if anyone would agree to the direction he was taking, he walked to Dante while he was on the ground. He made sure to safe the gun and put it back in his holster before he knelt down. “Dante…” he said gently, not needing to call attention to what he said to the man. “It looks like that transfer won’t be going as scheduled. I don’t know you, but I know your sheet. I know your feel, and I believe I can get you out of those cuffs and not have to look over my shoulder…”<br/><br/>He continued “ I could be wrong, but that’ll be my fuck-up. We’d settle that when the time came. You can take your chances out there, or you can stay with us. If you go it alone, my responsibility for you is finished, if you stay here, I have to at least try and make sure you make it. That’s my cross to bear, and you don’t owe me shit for it. You gotta decide now, though. This is looking too damn bad to have to worry about anyone in here…not when we have plenty of problems out there.” He nudged his head to the outside and asked “Do you understand what I’m saying?”. He made sure to give them man ample time…at least as much as their friends would give them. While he did, he listened to what the others had to say.<br/>