Re: MANDIE + MARCUS
Powell had planned on a hunting expedition. Looked forward to it, sure as Hell felt he earned it. But this? This had to be the furthest thing a person could imagine from a vacation. From leisurely time away from the difficulties of life. Instead of a taste of paradise he had somehow found himself in a living, breathing Hell and the worst part about any of it for his own conscience was that he was not alone. And for him, perhaps more than anything else, that was reason enough to survive. To persevere.
And in this instance to give a young blonde girl an unceremonious boost with one big hand on her backside as he watched the herd, holding his Sig high at eye level, determined only to fire if he was left no other choice. His Springfield rifle hung over one of his broad shoulders but he was even more reluctant to use that weapon.
Once the girl was up, Powell had to dodge around the perimeter of the tree out of the way of a fleeing shunosaur. He breathed in deep, muttered another obscenity and at the words of the girl above him he reached one hand and then the other up, the powerful muscles in his arms and shoulders standing out beneath his tank top as he climbed.
He spared a look at the destruction of the plane and found himself thankful that he'd stored his additional items in some brush earlier in the morning.
"You might want to drop the suitcase.. or at least let me hold it for you", Powell said without taking his eyes away from the carnage from his position on a branch beneath her. "Might unbalance you otherwise."