[b]Ada Cinet - Kindla Spring/Ranch Road[/b]
[i][b](1 day ago)[/b][/i]

[i]Sick.[/i]

That was all Ada could think, it was all she allowed herself to think as she squatted over the body, disfigured from months of decay in the hot Texan sun. With a grimace, she pulled the knife out of the thing's skull, scowling at the sick sound it made. The squelch interrupted the serene silence of the night air. Ada didn't move, movement was noise, noise was bad, it a took a while, but after six months she had learned that. She defensively raised the knife, and let her eyes dart around, looking for anything in the distance, like a deer feeling for the slightest disturbance of something that might kill it. The woman wasn't particularly worried about the sick, even on an empty stomach she moved faster than they did and the flat, generally unobstructed horizon made it easy to see them coming and avoid a potential confrontation all together.

The sickos were easy-- what Ada was looking for was the living.

Her scan of the area ended in an internal sigh of relief, though, she felt safe enough to continue with what could only be described as necessary desecration, she clutched the knife tighter, moving it into position. With her free hand, she felt the jacket that laid spreadeagled in the grass beside her again, the dried and caked blood having become chipped and cracked after days in the hot southwestern sun. She knew it needed a fresh coat of blood... she also knew how crazy it was that she lived at a point in time where she needed to eviscerate a human... someone who was once a human.. and cover her clothes in their guts just to stay alive! Closing her eyes, she steeled herself for a moment, before raising the knife over her head and bringing it down on the stomach. She started to move it around, the effort got a grunt out of her, she hadn't eaten well for days. Still, she finished the job, reaching into the bloody hole she had created with apprehension, she knew not to retch, but she still couldn't get rid of the initial disgust. She covered the cloth jacket in human entrails. The scent kept the sick away.

A stifled yawn and a growl from her own stomach reminded Ada of her own fatigue, she was running on the fumes of dry ramen, stale coffee, and water. She'd need to sleep soon, and eat something with even a little nutrition, days of walking had not been good for her. The weight she was losing was almost certainly muscle, she couldn't feel anymore fat on her body, and the darkness under her eyes definitely gave away her deprivation of sleep. With a swift motion, she put the jacket on, now drenched in sicko repellant, and moved over to her bag on the other side of the body to clean her hands. A moment later, she stood, tossing away the bloodied towel and knife, and began to walk again, her muscles tensed up, but she kept on, her tall slim figure was the only thing moving on that road in the still night air. As dawn came, she took out her mp3 and put in an earbud, walking in perfect rhythm with the music.

[hider=Walking down Ranch Road, pre-dawn][youtube]HyjhOxqPmjI[/youtube][/hider]

[b]Ada Cinet - Skyline Ranch RV Park[/b]
[i][b](9 hours ago)[/b][/i]

Ada's eyes opened slowly, absorbing the light that came in from the dirty, windows and their broken blinds. It took her a second to remember where she was, that she was sleeping in an RV, in an RV park that had only been lightly scavenged at worst. A few hours after dawn she had found this place, and she was still thanking her lucky stars she had. 10 hours of sleep wasn't much, but it was probably more than all the sleep she had gotten in the last 3 weeks combined, Texas was being a damn lot kinder to her than Mexico, and as she yawned, laying on the RV couch, she thanked her lucky stars she had found this place. She knew she needed to keep moving, she wanted to-- but for now, she wanted to wring every second of relaxation she could out of this place.

Slowly adjusting to being away after her first real night's sleep in a while, she stared at the ceiling and just... thought. Her mind wandered, she thought of her brother, her mother, she thought of Louisiana and Vegas, she thought of how this really much different than her life before the sickness spread, or her mother's, for that matter, would she be proud of her? 

Today marked 3 weeks on the road for Ada, and her mind thought of her journey, most of that time was spent in Mexico, avoiding people, the cartels had all but taken control. She shuddered thinking of the things she had seen, her mind went farther back, to where she had spent over 5 months, the brunt of the apocalypse, a cakewalk compared to this.

The Reservation. It was a good little thing Ada stumbled upon the first few days of the hysteria brought on by the sickness. Of course, back then no one called it that, it was still the "Shiprock, New Mexico, Navajo Indian Reservation"-- Legislation in regards to the Native American reservations was always iffy, that mean less representation America's first citizens, but in the event of a catastrophic disaster, like with the sickness, they were able to close off things quick. Ada was lucky to have been in Shiprock when she was-- the sick were contained within days and the borders were closed off almost immediately after word from DC died. Within weeks jobs were assigned, a barter system was established, and aside from doctors, guards, and people who went on scavenging, no one even had to deal with the sick. Ada smiled thinking of it. The security of The Reservation had made her complacent. She was heading to Louisiana to find her family-- her little brother, her mom-- but the ease of life there, it actually made things better for her than before the end of... everything, of American life.

Toward the end, it wasn't the sick that killed The Reservation, it was human error. Needless bureaucracy, micro-managing, and just plain greedy, power hungry people. 

The Reservation was dead, but it taught her several important things about the new world. Ada, now wide awake, swung her legs to the ground and sat up, they weren't burning like before, they were sore, certainly, but they could move. That was the first thing The Reservation had taught her, she needed to keep moving, that's what made her such a good scout and looter, she kept moving. Her stomach growled, as she stood, she moved over to the kitchen area of the RV, it hadn't been looted yet, not by anyone who knew what they were doing, at least, and after opening a few cabinets, she was rewarded with what she wanted-- cans-- peaches, beans and even sardines. Jackpot. This was another thing The Reservation taught her, she tore open drawer after drawer, looking for a can opener, or at least a knife, The Reservation taught her to keep things simple-- no bureaucracy, no step-by-step plans, no other people. No complications. You move from place to place, you sleep, you walk, you eat. 

Cover yourself in guts and avoid everyone. Simple.

A short few months ago, Ada had considered herself a vegetarian. That Ada, the vegetarian Ada, would have been horrified to see the way the Ada that had been shaped by this new world tore into the can of uncooked pork & beans, throwing in raw sardines. Current Ada couldn't have cared less. 

Half an hour later, she slurped down the last of the peach syrup she could stomach and fell back down on the RV couch and lost another hour to a nap. She was woken up by the sound of groans. Ada let out a groan under her breath herself at the unwelcome intrusion. She'd need to leave before there were more. After a quick trip to the RV bathroom for hygiene, she tucked her mangy hair under her hat and got ready to set out, quickly looking through the RV for potential weapons, more food, anything useful-- she put it in her bag. Scratching on the door was her cue to head out.

Gingerly putting on the still damp coat, she slung the back pack over over shoulder and moved to open the door of the RV. Ada held her breath, and let the door slowly creak open. She didn't like killing them if she didn't have to, it was a loud ordeal, and too messy, she preferred letting them be and simply sneaking past. The woman on the other side of the door was heavyset, she looked like she may have been the fat mother of a large Texan family. Her neck was snapped, her head hung at a slight angle, and the hair on her head had all but fallen out-- a former RV owner? Her torso was riddled with bullet holes, Ada couldn't tell if they were fresh or not as she silently stared at the dead sicko, her heart beat faster and she continued to hold her breath, she tried her hardest to maintain contact with its dead, rotting eyes.

Ada made the first move, shuffling slightly around the woman. The woman moved in kind, stepping into the RV where Ada had just been. Within moments, Ada was on Highway 16 again, and she remembered the may be the most important lesson she learned from The Reservation.

Don't grow complacent.

[i]Not ever.[/i]

[b]Ada Cinet - Gas Go markets gas station[/b]
[i][b](Present)[/b][/i]

[hider=...another Texan night][youtube]dh3bleXWaCk[/youtube][/hider]

Looking up at the night sky as she walked, Ada couldn't help but note the beauty of the night sky in it's full glory. Without the disruption of city lights, the stars of the Milky Way could shine through Earth's atmosphere much more clearly. She strolled down the street, each step as silent as she could make them, and she listened to her music. Highway 16 had led her to Bandera, and she much preferred the night sky than the reality of the empty, dark streets around her. She hadn't encountered many people in Texas, she wanted to keep it that way and towns like this ran the risk of ruining that. She came to a stop in the middle of an empty intersection. Another empty intersection, in a country-- maybe world-- full of empty intersections. The desolation hung in the air, behind her, there stood an old Sonic drive in, in front, a gas station that appeared to have lost a battle with a tornado. Her mp3 player stopped. Fishing the device out of her pocket, the blinking 'empty battery' logo was all she needed to help make the decision.

[i]Gas station it is, then.[/i]

Wordlessly, silently, she moved to the boarded windows of the abandoned Shell station. She didn't have a flashlight, so she had to rely on sound to tell her the weakest board, she knocked, quietly, looking for signs of anything, hollowness, termites, rain damage, anything. The board next to the entrance struck her as the weakest, and she reared back, delivering a single, loud kick. The board fell with ease, most of it having already been rotted away. She ran in, trying to silently tip toe around the board and the various litter on the floor of the Gas station mart. Quickly rummaging around, she began her search for AAA batteries.