Bell

12:05 PM- She looks up into the sky, the sun blazing in the summer heat, and grins. The smoke billowing from the building and the smell accompanying it gives her a sense of true satisfaction. Harry sees her expression and flashes a smile so acute it would be missed by anyone that did not know him. It seems like nothing, but Avery knows the amount of happiness required to get something so small. The trap worked like a charm. The horde was stupid enough to follow the two survivors into the hospital they had spent weeks rigging with explosives. Now, looking back on the carnage that they left in their path, they realized what they had that their enemy didn't. They had working minds. Now, Carrying the little supplies they needed on the road, they walk at a pace slow enough to accommodate Harry's injury. Another man with the same problem would surely not be planning on walking any distance at the moment. With the amount of alcohol on this bull of a man, he could have his hand cut off and he'd keep moving. He was not an obnoxious drunk, not by any means, but he was numb to all pain and was not as dextrous when he had a few bottles of vodka under his belt. Avery knew that the alternative was much worse. When he was sober his mind was not able to keep away from all the pain that lied in his past. He was in so much physical pain as well as the emotional scars he carried, that he would lash out at anything that got in his way. She let him drink as much as he wanted as long as he didn't misbehave.