Mark sped along the highway in the opposite direction, silently laughing at all the suckers who were too chicken to stay. Looks like everyone was falling for the media. How bad could it be anyways? Probably just a flu thing were they'll give out vaccines. And since... if there was a bomb or something...uh...

Mark stopped. No, can't be a bomb. Those sirens would have blared by now. Or maybe something new was announced over the media and he didn't know about it. The fear was slowly surrounding Mark like a pack of wolves about to dine on their meal. It seemed more and more people were running. Was it better to do what everyone else was doing and leave as well? Leave whilst there was still time? Heck, if there was anything, first come first served. Mark looked back along the road. His bike would be really handy when it came to squeezing between the lanes. Maybe it would be best if he -

The loud screech of metal slamming and being crushed, made Mark cry out like he never had before. He didn't remember what he shouted but, damn he sounded weak. Where was the sound coming from? How fast was it? Was this it? Him turning into bloody roadkill? The gangster did all that he could - cover his head and hunch over, hoping that he wouldn't become a splattered mess. Then everything fell silent. Was he dead? Where was the pain? He could hear again... his heart beating rapidly, the sound of engines slowly moving away. Mark's other senses slowly came back to him. It took a moment for the gangster to recollect himself. He was scared shitless. His hands were shaking. Dammit! Stop shaking!

[i]"... quarantine..."[/i] came the voice of someone in the distance. Mark looked up to find the tank moving along the highway, crushing and pushing cars away.

A quarantine? It sounded believable... but Mark didn't want to give in. He didn't want to become just another panicky member of the public. He was a gangster, a proud thug. He was not scared of stupid quarantines! He had to check on the container and report back to the Boss. Mark reached for his phone, only to curse at the networks being down. Maybe... That is... unless his Boss had also left by now. 

Was this really a quarantine? Or was everyone scaring each other because they were scared? Then again... the switched off media channels... The tank. But a quarantine for what? Terrorists? Must be pretty big to call out tanks like that. Can't be terriorists... they'll let people out, not restrict them... Maybe prisoners escaped or something.

If this [i]was[/i] a quarantine, the container would be the safest place. If this wasn't a quarantine, then the Boss would want to know if cops found the container! Mark throttled his bike again, going up to full speed as he went deeper into the town, in the opposite direction of everyone else. His heart felt strange and his hands were still shaking, but Mark hoped he was right.

-----

Mark soon reached the gang's container, hidden deep within an old construction site. Good... the place was clear. He unlocked the huge metal doors, cursing as they were now rusted enough to be hard to push open. He wheeled in his bike and then closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief. Why did he just do that? Relief for entering a container? The crowd mentality must be getting to him. Mark flicked on the torch as he went to check the boxes one by one. 

Jewellery 'n' cash - check. Drugs were somewhere else... Expensive electronics - check. Guns - check. Wine that he couldn't drink - check. A FREAKIN' 14C BRA? Getting distracted, Mark lifted up the lacy... thing and stared at it for a good moment for two. What was a bra doing here? Oh now he got it... heheh. Funny. Mark began to rapidly spin the bra around on his finger for fun. Well, not that he liked women much, but the bra was funny. 

*spin* *spin* *spin* *flies off*