"I gotta idea." Clay whispered, quiet enough that his mouth opening was louder than his words. He nodded to his group, holding his breath in the darkness. He held a crouched position, as if years of Assassin's Creed prepared him for this moment, and picked up a chunk of a brick from the floor. He was the first of the group to move, skirting along the edges of the shadows, quickly moving to hiding spots behind any empty crates, pallets of wood, or overturned barrels he could find. Scanning the ground, he eventually found his next projectile; An empty beer bottle.

Although a brick and a bottle were hardly the most sophisticated of distractions, Clay wasn't the most sophisticated of the bunch. He stepped back for a moment, before pitching the brick with all his might. It flew threw the air with a whizz, before skirting off into the dirt, about twenty yards away. It made a few meager bounces, before hitting the edge of a stack of steel piping with a loud, echoing clang. 

The lizard-like aliens cocked their heads in unison, and tore off towards the source of the noise -- In the opposite direction of Clay and his group. He snuck more quickly, signaling with his hand for the group to follow him. Although he didn't look back to see who it was, he heard a few footsteps, and continued his lurking, slowly making more and more space between himself and the extraterrestrials. Satisfied with his sneaking, he took another few steps before readying his bottle. He squinted for a moment, sticking his tongue out. He wasn't a big fan of football, but he had seen the tongue-maneuver in a movie, and thought it might help his throw.

Fortunately, it did. He took a heaving toss with the lighter bottle, and sent it spinning through the air like a football. It flew further than the brick, going out of Clay's line of sight over a rusting stack of steel support beams. It landed with two sounds -- The smash of the glass breaking, and the Hork Bajir's cries of confusion as they turned ninety degrees, creating more distance with the group. With their exit in sight, Clay's lumbering crouch became a lumbering run, and he quickly made it to the fence, waiting for his companions before he could scale it.

"Hurry up!" He hissed, trying to not make any noise, and still be heard by his friends.