James turned away from Joe, somewhat unsteady, the cigarette butt falling from his lips where it smoldered on the ground.
[sub]" I need to leave... I gotta... get away from these people..."[/sub] He muttered in that same frighteningly emotionless tone. As he began to walk towards the treeline he unzipped his tac-vest, letting it clatter to the ground with his rifle, smg and pistol still attached, a level of carelessness that he would normally never have stood for. A moment later his undertaker followed, the simple sheath detached from his belt, leaving him with nothing his but his grey shirt, combat trousers, military boots and 6 inch bootknife as he wandered away.