Zoe leans against her red scooter at the dock, her posture relaxed but edged with clear anticipation. Rusty, her dog, pokes his head out from her backpack, scanning the surroundings just as she does.

She kicks at a loose stone, with her boot, into the water. A cool breeze tussles her messy hair, but she hardly notices. Her eyes are fixed on the horizon, a stark contrast to the quiet of the dock and the storm of thoughts swirling in her head.

Her fingers tap rhythmically against the scooter’s handle. Waiting around isn't her style; she lives for action. Thoughts of the risks and adrenaline ahead excite her more than they scare her.

"Ready for some action, Sean?" she looks at the young man.

As she waits for the signal to leave, her gaze stays locked on the bridge ahead.

After placing my backpack between my feet and tossing the duffle back into the back, I reach up and pull-down the makeup mirror. I toss a quick glance to Zoe as she speaks to me, then I turn back to the mirror, adjusting it a tad.

"I'm hoping for an uneventful excursion," I reply with a half-hearted grin to Zoe from the passenger seat of the large vehicle. My hands reach up and remove my knitted gray beanie, allowing my long hair to fall down my shoulders. After a quick comb-through, I draw my hair back up and reposition the beanie in a comfortable position, as I continue talking to the younger woman. "I know you were joking, but if we do come across a toy store or isle, I think Timmy might enjoy either Transformers or LEGOs."

I mumble to myself, "Heck, I'd enjoy some LEGOs."

"Goddamn, we've got our very own outrider," says Ryder as he spots Zoe's scooter. He winks at her as he heads for the SUV, twirling the keys.

Of all the people on the boat, he figures he's most like Zoe. He's not yet sure whether that makes them homies or blood enemies, but he's hoping it's homies. Besides, beneath all the aggro, she's kind of cute.

"If we're getting toys, don't forget the cute teddy bear. Laura's a sucker for plushies."

He pops the trunk and retrieves the AR-15. Better to have a gun and not need it, than to need a gun and not have it. Jackie's motto for life. He props it up in the passenger footwell.

"All aboard." He turns the key and brings the massive vehicle to life while the rest of the scavenging crew make themselves comfortable. "Where do you want to go first? Walmart, Toys'R'Us, Nazi Gunhut?"

Rebecca had nodded at Alex. "If any place would have them a sporting goods store would." She smiled at Juan. "You're too kind. I'll gladly take a look at it."
"With any luck, there won't be any action" Rebecca says to Zoe, but carefully checks her weapon all the same. "Did you get one of those spears, sis?" she asks. Even a few extra feet between Zoe and the walking dead would make Rebecca feel a lot better. She can tell Zoe is ready to burst into action and it makes her nervous.
She smiles when Sean says they should try to find some Legos or Transformers for Timmy. "That's very thoughtful. Every kid appreciates a few action figures." Actually, Rebecca had been more of a dolls than action figures girl, but that could undermine her tough-girl credentials so she doesn't want to say it.
"Were we going to try the Coast Guard station?" she asks Ryder as she climbs aboard. "High chance it's looted, but the possibility of gear for the boat seems like it might be worth the risk."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:24, Thu 08 Feb.

Matt steps from the gangway on to the wharf, the the new bow and quiver of arrows hanging loosely over his shoulder, and Bill's big fire axe in his hand. The axe is heavier than he imagined, but it feels strengely comforting. Those walkers on the Hill scared Matt, but next time he'd be ready for them. You were attacked by the dead and survived. Yes, he'd survived, but so many didn't.

He turns back towads the boat to see if Alex is coming ...

The cabin is silent -- Beth, after having ordered her friend to stay out of trouble this time and giving her a fierce hug, has gone to help with the after-breakfast cleanup.  Everyone who's going on the supply run is waiting for Alex, she supposes, impatient to get moving, but she needs these last few moments to herself first, before she even thinks about leaving the safety of the ship.  The truck will be crowded, probably filled with chatter.  Ryder, for one, seems to like to talk.  That will be no place for quiet reflection, and anyway she'll need to help keep watch.  They can't run into another ambush.

Ty, falling limply to the pavement.

Shaking off the image, she picks up her backpack, then pauses, looking at Pigwidgeon.  The little plush owl stares back at her, and she wonders if it's trying to reassure her or make fun of her.  It certainly is laughable, this lingering belief that this small toy -- the third survivor of the Hill, in a way -- might somehow help her or anyone else stay alive a little longer.

But she picks it up anyway and puts it into the backpack.  Beth won't mind, she tells herself.  And is there really anything wrong with trying to give herself a little more confidence?  It isn't as if there's any real risk of her turning overconfident.  But she does need to be sharp, alert.  That's the best thing she can do for all her friends, to spot trouble in time for them to avoid it.  If there are still any of those people left out there...

Muzzle flashes.  Gabriella, crying out in pain.  Deborah, screaming as she falls.

Cody, slumping to the ground without a sound.

She has to squeeze her eyes shut, fighting to block out the images, the sounds.  It's up to her now, to all of them, to keep that from happening to anyone else.  They have to be more careful.

Or next time she'll be watching Rebecca or Zoe being torn apart, by bullets or by Walkers.  She'll be seeing Matt fall, reaching out to her as he dies.

Now she has to stop herself from sobbing, struggling to take some deep, slow breaths.  This won't do.

One more breath, one more look at Pigwidgeon, waiting patiently.  Enough of this, she thinks.  Breaking down won't change anything.  Stay calm, keep your eyes open.  Do your part.

Grabbing a spare duffel bag, she walks out of the cabin and straight to the deck, heading for the Range Rover.  Several people are already there, including Zoe, clearly intending to ride her scooter instead of going in the vehicle.  Alex doesn't like the idea, not one bit, but she also senses that arguing about it won't go over well.  Probably better to pick the battles she really needs to fight.  And there's a real chance that the girl would just go riding off on her own to scavenge, if she gets angry enough.

'The girl'.  As if Alex is decades older instead of just a few years.  Almost smiling at that, she steps over to the Rover, catching Matt’s eye.  She wants to prove herself to herself, but she also wants to show Matt that he doesn't have to worry about her.  Maybe that will make her worry less.  Looking happy about this trip will fool no one, but she does try to look calm.  Fake it till you make it, and this time she does smile.  To her faint surprise, it makes her feel better, and her step feels a little lighter as she joins Matt.

Matt gives Alex a warm smile. This can't be easy for her, going out again so soon after the disasterous trip to the Hill, but Matt feels confident she'll be fine. She is stronger than she thinks - they all are.

"Do you know how many will be joining us?" he asks, glancing over the SUV, seeing Sean already in the passenger seat. "If Zoe takes the scooter, we should fit comfortably in the back with Rebecca. I can take my car, but I don't think it's necessary ... unless more are joining us."

Ryder looks into the rear of the SUV as Alex climbs in. She looks ashen. Like she's seen a ghost, or something. But she also looks determined, even if it's a shaky kind of resolve. He offers her his best attempt at a reassuring smile. It's not something he's especially good at. Normally, he taunts people until they get with the program, but he wants to stick around longer than dinner, and he kind of likes Alex. So the smile it is.

"It'll swallow four people, Matt. With you and Alex and Rebecca, we have easy space for one more. The thing is a tank."

The dealership where he boosted it had brochures. They all showed little pictures of this old woman with tiny dogs. Took him a while to figure it was supposed to be the Queen of England. He guessed she must have liked to travel in a little luxury. Or maybe she needed space for the dogs?

"And there's always the option for someone to sit in the trunk. The tailgate opens in two sections, like a clamshell, so they could pop the top and fire out if they wanted. Might get a bit windy for the rest of us."

After adjusting my beanie, I shift the mirror back to its original position, and watching Alex descend the ship towards us. Out of everyone in the group, she was the least enthusiastic about this scouting mission, but it isn't without good reason; aside from me, she and Matt were the only survivors from the original crew that ventured to the Hill. I can't imagine what she witnessed there or how she managed to survive, really. Out of all the people, I thought the battle-hardened veterans and the detective would have been the survivors- they were trained for combat and how to handle themselves- while the farmer turned scientist outlived them all. It's quite remarkable, really. I imagine that weighs on her heavily and affects why she was so hesitant about heading out again. I don't blame her either because I share those same doubts on why did I survive, and others did not? Matt probably struggles with that too, though it's much more difficult to read.

Once Alex joins us in the vehicle, I give her a gentle nod, and then pull my safety belt across my chest.

"I think this is everyone," I reply to Matt, glancing back at him, Alex, and Rebecca. "And as Ryder said, we have plenty of room in the back for all the supplies we'll find out there."

I look over to Ryder and give him a firm nod. The AR-15 catches my attention and I look back up to him and playfully bite my lower lip. "You're packing some serious heat, Ryder."

Grinning, I look away and out the window. "Let's get going. I think White Rabbit will be our first stop. It's not too far after we cross the bridge."

Adria watches the SUV shark its way from the dockside, spitting stones behind it. She shivers. It’s early. The November sun rarely gets over the bay much before mid-afternoon. Now, it’s barely above the hills on the far side of the bay.

That isn’t why she was shivering, though.

Since John died, she has barely left the cabin they shared. Meals, usually when nobody else is around; a quick walk around the deck when it simply got too much. Lupe caught her staring at the sea one time. The poor woman worried Adria was about to hurl herself in, but she hadn’t even thought of it. She isn’t like that.

Not yet, she thinks, looking at the city around the bay, knowing the walkers are there even if she can’t see them. How long can anyone survive in this world? Anyone like her, anyway. Someone with normal feelings and emotions.

She thought her heart would break after John didn’t come back. The first few days were the hardest, not that it is that much easier now. People were all grieving. Not one person on the ship was unaffected. You’d think everybody feeling the same would help, but it didn’t. Grief doesn’t welcome company. Hers didn’t, anyway.

It’s been two weeks. She has spoken to almost nobody. People look at her like she’s about to fracture if they raise their voices.

Except him. The new guy. Ryder. She isn’t stupid. She can see he has a shallow affect. His emotions are Potemkin villages. But he doesn’t care that she lost John. Their first encounter in the ship’s corridor, he flirted with her. Hard.

The second, he made her laugh. She never imagined she would laugh again, but his goofball comment about sailing brought it briefly back to life.

She won’t find her parents alone. No matter the longing to know where they are, just to know if they’re still alive and if they need her help. She is too frightened and ill-equipped to go looking. But Ryder traveled all the way here from Detroit. He isn’t frightened of anything.

She worried she was using John, manipulating him with sex. With Ryder, it doesn’t even matter. Laura will be a problem, but she has some ideas about that.

So, she shivers and watches him go. This new harder Adria. This Adria who is going to find her mom and dad if it kills her.

Or him.

Rebecca is a little unnerved by the quiet and tries to break the tension with a few jokes. She laughs when Ryder says that there's space in the trunk. "Usually going for a drive and ending up in the trunk isn't a super great sign."

"The White Rabbit? Does that make me Alice? I haven't got the dress" she replies to Sean with a smile. "Impressive, you know how to use that thing?" she says to Ryder when Sean points out he's packing some serious heat.

"Zoe, there's room for one more" she calls to her sister.

"Weapon for every need, Sean," says Ryder, deadpan. He looks over his shoulder as Rebecca climbs in and grins at her question. "I haven't had any complaints, Rebecca."

He waits a moment to see if Zoe will join them, or is she is going to race ahead on her scooter.

"Coffee shop, Walmart, pharmacy. I'm not sure where any of them are, so you'll have to be the navigator, Sean."

Zoe glances at the group, then firmly shakes her head at Rebecca's invitation.

"Thanks big sis, but no thanks. I'll stick to my own ride," Zoe replies with a defiant edge. She pats her scooter affectionately. "Me and my wheels, we've got this covered. I'll meet you guys at The White Rabbit.*"

She flashes a daring smile, revs up her scooter, and adds, "Try to keep up!" With that, Zoe kicks off, the scooter jerks to life under her control. Rusty peeks out from the backpack, his ears flapping in the wind as they zoom ahead.

OOC: *Or Walmart if this is where we decide to go first.

"I don't think a pinafore suits you anyway, Rebecca," I snicker back to her and glance back to Ryder, arching an eyebrow. "Every need, hmm? Good to know."

Laughing at the silliness of the conversation, my eyes focus on the road and bridge. With any luck, this will go smoothly. Zoe's determination to ride alone might be useful to scout ahead and it'd certainly be easier to navigate through the sea of stranded vehicles ahead. Such transportation poses its own risks, though- one of those Ghouls could easily grab ahead and knock you to the ground. Such risks are something I'd never want to take and the safety of this vehicle- any vehicle, really- is far more comforting to me than the thrill and excitement of riding a scooter. The younger sister is clearly a thrill seeker and doesn't care about the consequences. Maybe she doesn't quite understand them, either.

I sigh and shift in my seat as Ryder heads us towards the bridge. The last time I traveled across here was with the old group of survivors when we meet Deborah. That almost feels like a lifetime ago. "Once we cross the bridge, White Rabbit will be just past Abby Street, on the left."

Rebecca smiles at Ryder's reply, enjoying the opportunity to joke around. "Confident, aren't we?"
She giggles at Sean. "Yeah, if I wore anything that makes Zoe look like the older sister I'd never hear the end of it."

"Be careful!" Rebecca calls after Zoe. Rebecca's smile and humor disappear as soon as her sister zooms off, and she becomes all business. "Don't lose her" she says intently to Ryder and her eyes scan the roadside for any threats.

Alex, too, can't help but feel that a lifetime has passed since the last time they drove this way.  It's impossible not to think of all those they've lost since then, all the mourning they've done.  She's been meaning to ask Beth about how Adria is -- even stuck in the infirmary Alex had heard how forlorn the woman seemed, though like most of them she'd hoped that the memorial service might have been of some help.  It doesn't seem to have done Adria much good, but Beth is better at these things.  She'll know.

What seems to be helping Alex the most right now, aside from having Matt there, is thinking about the differences between this journey and the last -- the different people and the luxurious new vehicle.  Nothing much else has changed, though, unless the city has perhaps gotten just a little more run-down, a little more faded.  How long will it take, she wonders, before the roads and the buildings crumble away completely?  Will there be anyone left alive to see it happen?

As dark as that thought is, it reminds her to stay focused.  This time she's going to watch for trouble, not get caught up in talking, even though she has to admit that it's nice to hear some conversation that doesn't entirely revolve around survival.  But most of her attention is focused out at the cityscape going by and Zoe on her scooter, looking for signs of a Walker horde... or worse, any signs of the living.

Ryder watches Zoe go. She reminds him of the little skitebirds they used for runners back in Amityville. Those scooters are damned hard to stop if they don't want to be.

"You think she wants to lose us?" He watches her weave her way out of the dock. Laughs. "She's gonna be glad I moved that idiot spike strip."

With a grin he guns the engine and the massive SUV scrabbles after her. The stained dock passes them by and they race onto the straight towards the highway. Ryder watches the world sliding by. He didn't have a chance to see much on the way in, now he's struck by the scale of the nothing. Parking lots, rusting autos, decaying businesses. Scrappy plants already fighting their way from the blacktop. Detroit was like this since the Eighties, so they told him. Looks like the whole world is getting in on the act.

Everywhere is Detroit now; the rust belt has gone global.

"It's not a belt, it's a kingdom," he says to himself. "A whole fucking kingdom of rust."

"I think she's making a point, but yes- she thinks she can lose us." Oh, boy. As Zoe disappears ahead of us, Ryder brings us to follow the scooter through the street debris. I sigh, rolling my eyes at the reckless behavior of Zoe, followed by Ryder. The young girl's determination to make the point that she's independent and doesn't need the group is a tiresome trope and one that might get her killed. A rebellious girl in an unforgiving world. All of us went through that phase at some point- I sure did- though the circumstances of today's world are quite different than before.

"What are you talking about?" Ryder's statement might have been intended for himself, but I heard it too. I glance over to him with a concerned look, looking up to the rearview to watch the ship fade from view. Chewing on my cheek, I turn back to Ryder with a grin, glancing back to the road as I speak to him. "That reminds of a song by Siouxsie and the Banshees: Cities in Dust. Are you familiar woith the band or the song?"

Matt sits back in his seat and tries to relax as the SUV accelerates to keep up with Zoe's scooter. "Definitely more comfortable than the Van," he muses. "Good thing too, the bow and Bill's axe take up a lot of room."

He ponders over their destination, Priority #1: Coffee! Fair enough, but we're going to need food and medical supplies too. And weapons if we can find them. He glances over at Alex, but she seems lost in thought. A kingdom of rust ... yea, it's going to take time to adapt to this new reality.

"Siouxsie and the Banshees?" Ryder whoops a laughs as the SUV bounces over the edge of the traffic circle, weaving between an abandoned pick up and a sedan with its tires blown. He shakes his head. "Not familiar with the Banshees. It's the Doves. Kingdom of Rust. Album of the same name. Came out back at the start of last year. Prisoners loved it. It seems kind of fitting."

Zoe is still, just in view, squirreling along the decaying blacktop. He looks sideways at Sean. "How long were you in those domes?"

"If it's music you're after, this thing has a killer sound system. There's some Alex Gaudino in there. It's the only decent stuff the dealership had."

Oh, the van. It was so uncomfortable. I had almost forgotten about it. The only time I rode in the damned thing was when we packed-up everything and headed to the ship. During that route, we encountered Deborah in a colorful outfit. She was quite the character.

"They were one of the first punk rock bands out of the UK. She was absolutely gorgeous." I look over to Ryder with a smile. "I've never heard of the Doves. I doubt they can compare to Siouxsie, though. If I manage to find an album, I'll pick one up just for you. Well, it'd really be for me, but I'll let you experience her, and then you'll appreciate her too."

The lighthearted conversation turns back to the reality of the world as it stands. My facial expression changes to suit the mood. "Barely two months. We had just arrived and settled into a comfortable route. We lost communication with the research center and thought it might have been a mechanical error of sorts. We waited, and waited, then decided to head to the surface. By that time, we knew something had gone seriously wrong but had no idea on the scale of it. We took rafts and landed out in front of the light house- just west of here- to find the world had changed. It feels like it was a lifetime ago."

My eyes shift over to Ryder again. "I'm not sure I'd want to go back there, if I had the chance. I imagine it would be comparable to prison in a way, but not nearly as dangerous. I suspect the prison library was better, though. I volunteered for a non-profit that fulfilled prisoner book requests. They'd mail us a letter with a list of books or authors they'd want to read, and we'd do our best to find those titles in used book stores."

Zoe pulls her red scooter to a halt. She glances around quickly, ensuring she's alone. Satisfied, she swings off her scooter and reaches into her backpack, pulling out a can of spray paint with a practiced hand. Her gaze falls on a blank wall.

With swift, precise movements, she begins to tag. The hiss of the spray paint echoes in the alley as she forms the letters 'L S' in bold, stylized script. Below the initials, she adds a series of signs and numbers.

Satisfied, she hops back onto her scooter, revs up the engine, and speeds away.

"If you know what my sister wants, please tell me" Rebecca says dryly. "I don't know if she's trying, but she'll pull it off all the same if we're not careful."

Although she loves music, she stays out of the conversation and keeps up her careful watch for ambushers. She only stirs when the domes are mentioned. "Was anyone left down there?"

Rebecca's comment finally catches Alex's attention enough for her to put in a wry reply.  "No one knows what a teenager wants, especially not the teenager."  Her gaze is still focused almost entirely out the window, but she glances around, catching Matt's eye for a brief moment if possible.  This much of the journey is nice, at least, to be able to sit in comfort with people she knew.

At Rebecca's question, she continues.  "Not in the domes, no."  She frowns, remembering those first few hours in the raft, filled with dread and confusion.  "There was no good way to get out and get to the surface, we had to improvise.  We found four rafts and were able to use those to get away, but we got a little separated.  The two rafts we were on ended up by the lighthouse, and we found out later that the raft Matt and Bill were on got to shore safely, too."  There she squeezes Matt's hand, silently offering thanks for that.  "But they were attacked and all ran in different directions.  Some of them might still be out there somewhere, but there's no way to know."

That also seems like years and years ago, and it's even more disconcerting to realize how few people are left who had lived through those events.  "We had no idea then how bad it had gotten," she says, her voice barely a whisper -- mainly because of the weight of everything that's happened since then, but also because her voice simply still isn't as strong as it had been.  This has been too much of a speech for her, she thinks, her fingers brushing over the scar on her neck, and she falls silent again.

The car drives away from the dock, Zoe zipping alongside with her scooter. Rusty, so used to such travel, enjoys sticking his head out of the backpack just to feel the wind in his face. Every time Zoe turns towards him to make sure he is ok, he gives her the occasional lick.

As the mini-convoy travels, they can see the streets coated with garbage and waste, and the buildings that have almost aged all at once. Looking haunted and empty as the rest of the city...


This message was last edited by the GM at 16:51, Thu 15 Feb.