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Nick sat patiently in the tattoo parlor, waiting. No, not for a tattoo.

They knew the horde wouldn’t come until they turned on the radio. It was all a rather strange situation. Ellis suggested, just for fun, to get their minds off things, a game of hide-and-go-seek. Nick thought it was the dumbest thing in the world. But for some reason, here he was, sitting in a dark corner, staring awkwardly at the bloodied corpse of a girl in the chair nearby. If only Ellis could see his face right now.

It was a long while. Nick had long gotten bored, rhythmically firing his pistol at the wall, tracing some sort of non-objective form next to the sample designs. And he’d even gotten bored of that, so he stopped. 

Finally. There she was. Rochelle sped past the booth he was in, apparently checking the back-most one first. Nick slid out of the shadow he’d taken shelter under, and stepped back out the door.

“Hey!” Rochelle yelled after him. Nick shot her an impish grin before ducking into the pool hall. Like an expert escape artist (and he thought he was pretty damn good at that), Nick found his way to the other side of the sewage ditch, right near the pub they’d started at. He turned around and stared back through the haze at the muck and the building, looking out for that telltale flash of pink. A few minutes passed, and no such thing crossed his view.

Ellis had approached Nick at this point, having already been caught. 

“Isshe lost? Go easy on ‘er, Nick!” Ellis implored, and Nick narrowed his eyes in irritation.

“Relax,” he huffed, looking back out in the distance. The two stared some more for a period of time, but Rochelle never emerged from the fog. 

Nick glanced over at the mechanic, who was giving him the most unusual of glares.

“Alright, fine! I’ll go look for her. Watch, I’ll turn around and she’ll be right there,” Nick grumbled lowly, reluctantly hopping back into the ditch. If there was one thing he hated, it was sewage. 

He trudged through to the ladder, carefully scaling it back into the pool hall, looking around. No Rochelle there. He decided to just sit and wait in the building, tired of running around. Could they just get to a safe room already? 

Nick turned, spotting the nearby jukebox. He figured, what the hell. Clicked it on.

He turned back around, and lo and behold. Rochelle nudged him with her baseball bat.

“Found you,” she said with a laugh. Nick had to frown at that.

“Yeah, yeah. I was lookin’ for you too, you know,” he complained, following her out as they returned to their 'base’.

Rochelle only laughed more.