Well, yes. Technically, texting could wait.. but not letting anyone know of your whereabouts? He didn't want anyone to think he'd just up and disappeared on them. Not.. you know, that they would think he was capable of that or anything, but still. He wanted to tell Archer shit was going down.
Really.. It wasn't a lock. They were doing their best to jam the door shut with what they had. Sort of like a backwards doorstopper thing. Graham just hoped that the ground and the friction held it all in place. Those lurkers were pretty strong...
Moving to wipe the rain from his face again, he gave a couple of last hammers against the wood, and let Teagan help him up. Limping back away from the door with her, he shook his head. clutching at the hammer in one hand and his flashlight in the other. He really didn't want to die. Not here. Not like this. All he had wanted to do was rest, that evening.
But they insisted that he go out and fix the satellite. It didn't even get fixed! And now he was going to be dinner for some Lurker. Sighing, Graham lifted his arm up to push his hair back from his forehead. He really, really hoped that held them.
Maybe they should start looking for other things. Maybe a bigger plank of wood. Or a pipe. To wedge under the doorknob. Brows pushing together in his train of thought, he gave a look over toward Teagan when she asked him his name. "Graham," he offered her a teeny bit of a smile, "Graham Frost." He kept his eyes on her, "What about you?" He gave a hesitant look toward the door to the stairwell.