"Pretty sure if I didn', I'd end up like dem, oui?" Remy asked, looking down at the charred remains of the guards as the duo picked their way through them along and down the corridor. Remy shifted how Bobby was resting on his his shoulders.
John had nothing to worry about; Remy wouldn't tell a soul. Not even Bobby. It wasn't his place and he understood the meaning of a reputation.
The door at the end of this particular corridor was open. Remy had no idea whether or not it was a quick way out, but all doors lead somewhere, and an exit was an inevitability. "Keep your eyes open."