Name: Alexia Blackwell
Age: 27
Height:5’9”
Weight: 137 lbs
Equipment: 
Canteen- half full-3 20 oz bottles of water
Epinephrine hypos x3 
Asthma Inhaler
Good quality braided rope.
Map of the area swiped from a local gas station.
A few cans of surprise food with labels worn away.
4 packages of rice looted from a local food donation center.
Bottle of water purification tablets and a bottle of vitamins.
Crowbar
Zippo Lighter
Box of waterproof matches
2 packs of cigarettes
2x changes of clothes. 8x pairs of socks.

Weapons: 
Beretta 92FS 9mm. 4x 9 round magazines loaded. Box of 28/50 additional rounds.
AR-15 601. 1x 30 round magazine loaded. 1x 14 rounds. 1 empty. No addtl rounds.
Nightstick.
Can of Mace: in pack.
3x Tear gas grenades: in pack.
3 inch fold out pocket knife
S&W .40 pistol 1x 15 round magazine, strapped to left calf. 6 extra rounds in pack.

Previous Occupation: Police Dispatch. Originally a smallish town sheriff deputy in Arkansas, two years into her career she found herself busted down to dispatch. She never talks about what happened, so it must have been rather controversial or traumatizing

Appearance: Picture is a decent reference. However once upon a time at the height of her physical condition her weight hovered just below 155 lbs. Now her muscles definition has seemed to melt away along with any excess fat. 

Bio: A redheaded woman stood, hand on the hood of a patrol car, arm shaking with fatigue as she tried to hold herself up. Her pallor quickly shifted through various shades of green until with grotesque wretching she slipped to the ground, her last meal landing between her knees. She had thought the man in their drunk tank was just that, until he took a mouthful of deputy Parker back into the cell with him.

A hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing gently, “You okay?” Alex nodded in the affirmative, “Yeah, just a bad memory, you know, seems almost tame compared to what I have seen since, but…” The man nodded at her knowingly, “I read you, but you have to pull it together. I can’t have you falling apart when the shit hits the fan you know? Like last time.”

Charlie had been really grinding her fucking nerves lately, she knew it was her fault his brother died, she felt bad enough about it, so maybe it was understandable when she stood and spun on her heel, the words shouting into the quiet of the night, “I’m fine!” She screamed at the darkness, no one, no one living at least, anywhere near enough to hear her. The redhead wiped fresh tears from her eyes, fighting the urge to retch again and began putting one foot in front of the other, heading nowhere in particular, her steps weaving side to side from weariness from time to time.

Almost unknowingly, unless her subconscious guided her, she had been following after another group. Only assorted trash and the occasional spent shell casings as clues to their passing. Just past midnight she had caught sight of them ahead, the glint of a scope or binoculars zeroing in on her or perhaps just a flashlight errantly waving into the night. She ducked into a nearby building for the night. She didn’t get much sleep that night. Her mind seemed frenzied, trying to decide if she would try to join them or not. Trying to decide if it was worth finding new allies and friends just to lose them, trying to decide if she should even keep going; It was only a few hours to daybreak when she decided, she would try to hook up with them if she saw them again in the morning.

(Once with them she stays just for lack of a better objective and fear of being alone again now that she has found a group worth staying with.)

(Also feel free to say no to any equipment you don't like.)

[img=http://c3e308.medialib.glogster.com/evane5cence/media/dd/dd290d80915b0c3efca687bf2badff92765cf5b9/women-eyes-guns-blood-redheads-weapons-artwork-drawings-anime-anime-girls-udonnodu-t2-zpsadaf37ad.jpg]