Alex will attempt to stand up, if he can, and continue looking for some way to either open the containment doors or find some escape route.

Bill hops in the side door of the van, bracing himself against the roof.

Wolgang climbs into the van.

"F*** it, they're already dead," Triss declares. With everyone that has a chance at surviving in the vehicle, she quickly makes an escape from the doomed building.

"What do you mean, 'They're already dead'?" Lita asks, clearly confused. "Are they going to be alright?"

Lita peers worryingly in the direction she thinks they're in.

"She means they're already dead. Ran out of lives. Didn't get the star. GLADoS is singin'. It's over. Or they found a car and drove themselves to a nice farm upstate. Your choice."

"Who would want to live on a farm? That sounds like it would be so uncomfortable..." Lita replies sullenly. Whether or not she got the point is a matter of debate.

"Tech boy decided his tablet was more important than his life," Triss grumbles, somehow able to bitch and drive simultaneously. "Don't know why the other guy went after him."

"He thought he was a hero."

Angelo's head is back against the seat back, his eyes closed. A vein throbs on his temple.

"We need to head to level thirty, I have a bunch of supplies stashed there in a storage unit."

"Supplies?" Lita asks, "What is it that we'd need?"

Triss keeps her eyes on the garage and the dodging through parked vehicles and support structures she has to do as she speaks. "There was an earthquake in Chicago! I'm getting us away from anything that might be falling down in the next few hours!"

"Fair enough."

"Gary," the garage interface AI, doesn't have anythign to interface with: the garage is a dumb system (who needs an AI to run a garage?) and Cecil never had any buyers for "Gary."

The aliens finishe chargin' their lazors, and fire. Say "bye bye, Cecil."

Alex succombs to unconsiousness. Bye bye, Alex. We hardly knew ye.

----------

The van makes a getaway into what is, objectively, even more craziness than inside the building. It's like the end of the world out here. Fire and brimstone coming down from the sky? Check. Rivers and seas boiling? Unsure, but possible. Forty years of darkness? Sun hasn't risen, yet. Earthquakes? Yep. Volcanoes? Unknown. The dead rising from the grave? We'll take a rain-check on that one. Dogs and cats living together? That's just silly. Mass hysteria? Inarguably.

It is about seven AM on the last day of the world, and things aren't getting better. Not by a long shot.