The quiet is actually unsettling. Donnie doesn't trust it either. Cities shouldn't be this quiet. He tries to reassure himself that it's due to most of the chaos happening elsewhere and fortunately not in their immediate vicinity, or that maybe they had in fact managed to entrap the majority of the infected spreaders who had made it deeper into the city. But these are all theories at best, and you couldn't sleep soundly on those.
At the back of the group he feels exposed, but he has a feeling being at the front would be no different. There's too many blind corners, too many openings between his point and Li's. There's not much to do but to keep an eye out and ears open for any sounds. If there's at least one thing to be thankful of, it's that the infected aren't subtle.
Donatello slows to a stop. He's sure he's heard something, a familiar sound that makes no sense in the quiet of an evacuation. His grip tightening around his bo, he turns, scanning the streets behind them, eyeing the intersections warily. There's that sound again, the idling start-up putter of a motor. Behind it he can start to hear the low murmur of voices, nothing intelligible, but they're still a distance off to really be made out. Slowly he starts to back up, unwilling to turn completely just yet.
He catches the movement behind the haphazard blockade of cars, sucking in a breath as his fears are verified. The listless sway of the people that come into view, the random array of objects clutched in their stained hands- they aren't too many but the moment they catch sight of the group ahead, they start to rush. One of them hauls up a handheld leaf blower, revving it up.
"Oh no, they've found us. Keep moving-" Donnie barks over his shoulder. He leaps up onto one of the cars in the street, watching the incoming people as he slides into a defensive stance.
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At the back of the group he feels exposed, but he has a feeling being at the front would be no different. There's too many blind corners, too many openings between his point and Li's. There's not much to do but to keep an eye out and ears open for any sounds. If there's at least one thing to be thankful of, it's that the infected aren't subtle.
Donatello slows to a stop. He's sure he's heard something, a familiar sound that makes no sense in the quiet of an evacuation. His grip tightening around his bo, he turns, scanning the streets behind them, eyeing the intersections warily. There's that sound again, the idling start-up putter of a motor. Behind it he can start to hear the low murmur of voices, nothing intelligible, but they're still a distance off to really be made out. Slowly he starts to back up, unwilling to turn completely just yet.
He catches the movement behind the haphazard blockade of cars, sucking in a breath as his fears are verified. The listless sway of the people that come into view, the random array of objects clutched in their stained hands- they aren't too many but the moment they catch sight of the group ahead, they start to rush. One of them hauls up a handheld leaf blower, revving it up.
"Oh no, they've found us. Keep moving-" Donnie barks over his shoulder. He leaps up onto one of the cars in the street, watching the incoming people as he slides into a defensive stance.