Blaise hurried out of the kitchen as quickly as he could, squeezing past people milling around, and picking his way past those sitting or lying on chairs and the floor. Daniel wanted him to check on the prisoners--a fine idea, that. The prisoners weren't far from the kitchen, really.
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Ethan is a real pain in the ass. )
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"I heard gun fire. What's going on?" Alex asked quietly. She glanced down the hall, noticing that two people were being carried to the bathroom. She felt like a coward -- she'd ducked under the bed when the shooting started, hands over her ears, trying not to cry from fright and fear -- and she knew it didn't do good for her attempts to have these strangers trust and believe her.
"Did they come back? The rest of them?" Alex plunged forward, squeezing the hem of her shirt, it still smelled of bleach and cleanser, in her hands. "Did they try to get in?" Her gaze darted towards the bathroom processional, which really didn't make sense for gunshot wounds, "Who was hurt? Is everything going to be all right? Are we safe here?"
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"We had someone go postal," he said to Alex. "Several people were hurt, but it's over now."
He tried the door he'd just locked, one more time. Just to be sure. It was securely bolted. They weren't going anywhere. "Okay, let's get back to the cafeteria, see what Dr. Jackson has to say."
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