Hey, at least there was enough cognizance to roll his eyes; that had to be a good sign, right? "Look, it's not about knowing if you can time the fuckers; it's about letting me know the possible risks so we both don't die or whatever they do to people like us over here." He moved forward, crouching down with his back to Miles. This was going to suck; he wasn't going to have any of his hands free. He wasn't going to be able to fight.

This was pure running.

Tucker never thought he would be thankful in his life for Wash's strict laps and obstacle courses, but here we are. Forget ever telling him, though, because he knew he'd never hear the end of it. The fucking gloating...ugh.

"Climb on up. I'll get your legs, but we're not going to be able to fight. I'm just going to try to get us the hell out of here so you better hold on like a freaking octopus. Just pretend you're a drunk chick and I'm wealthy, okay?"