Ever since Vegas turned into this wasteland, Frank had been doing what he did best and that was taking down the people that were set on hurting others. He didn't have any of his guns on him but he had raided some strange looking weapons from some of the people he had brought down so he wasn't completely unarmed.
He had been posted by what looked to be a brothel. He had seen men parading women around and abusing them into submission. When he had enough intel, he attacked. He was doing well on his own even though he sustained a few injuries but it wasn't enough to make him slow down. Not until he got stabbed in the stomach a few times, that is. He didn't exactly know how it happened but he didn't feel the wound until he had taken all of the men outside down, allowing some of the women to flee.
Frank waited until he couldn't hear their footsteps anymore before assessing the wound. He lifted his hand away, wincing at the blood that was escaping his body. He had definitely sustained worse injuries but he had to be the bleeding under control. He got himself to cover and made a post on the network asking for help. It wasn't long that Frank heard footsteps. Other men had discovered the bodies that he had left behind. He had to move.
Frank pulled himself to his feet. He could feel himself tiring, the adrenaline that had been freely flowing through his veins was wearing off. He was loosing too much blood too fast. Still, he continued to move. He didn't want whoever was coming to help him get hurt either so he needed to put space between himself and the gang.
Frank heard a voice calling for him and he stopped, looking around until he spotted the source of the voice. He made his way over to Andrel and the cover that he had found and he collapsed on the ground, his back leaning against the wall.
"Thanks." Frank reached out to take the weapon, wincing as the movement caused pain to radiate through his body. "We can't stay here long. They're likely tracking me."