[b]Ada Cinet – Gas Go Markets Gas Station – Clayton Burrows[/b]

Ada couldn't help but smile. She was tired, her grip was shaky, her legs were one jog from giving out on her, the sweat was pouring off of her and her hair was sticking to her face. None of that mattered, though, for the moment, all that mattered was that after a half an hour of rummaging through that gas station, what felt like an eternity, she managed to find some batteries for her walkman. She'd have another few days without going crazy, and for the moment, that gave her cause to smile.

Only a moment, though.

Ada found herself leaning against the shelf, sighing. She was exhausted. This place was as good as any to rest a couple hours, looters were rare in the still of night and this place had been gone over several times already, she was willing to gamble. With a grunt, Ada got up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. The exposure to the outside from the window she had kicked in made her nervous, she made her way over to the backroom and forced the door open.

[i]Sick[/i]

Of course there were sick here. She'd been quiet enough getting in here, they hadn't noticed her and hadn't made a fuss, and they still didn't. Her gore covered jacket continued to do it's trick-- however it did it's trick-- the three turned to 'look' or whatever it was the sick did when they were close to another one of their own, whatever it was, they stood, but didn't attack. Two men and a boy, that's what they'd been, the one of the men and the boy looked freshly turned. Ada's guess was that they had had a similar idea to her own in regards to this place-- a sanctuary for the night-- and one of the sickos got it and killed them both while they slept. Ada stood, holding her breath, tensing her legs for a kick, just in case. Always just in case. They never attacked you if you smelled like them.

Ada had figured this out early on after the fall of the government. Her time on The Reservation allowed her to experiment with them, find out what worked in regards to them. Initially, she had deluded herself that she was looking for some kind of cure, she wasn't a Doctor, or a nurse, or a med-student... She had taken a few courses in high school and college and looked some things up on the internet! But she tried, for a while, out of some hope, a hope she still hadn't completely let go of. Ada had thought it was some kind of leprosy-- that maybe...

Ada shook herself out of her thoughts. The sickos had begun to ignore her, going back to standing around in the back room. She stepped in slowly, relying on her weary eyes to pick up on any outline of something useful. Immediately she noted one of the sick had a knife, certainly tempting, but not worth the trouble that'd follow-- she also spotted two guns, a rifle and a handgun, just laying on the ground for the taking. Ada wasn't a gun person, she barely knew how to handle the things, but she had also been through enough towns to know that she'd need one. Towns attracted crowds of sick and living, Bandera wouldn't be any different. She reached slowly for the handgun, thanking the boy and the man under her breath-- they had helped her, they deserved her thanks.

She closed the door gently behind her as she left the back room, opting to leave the rifle for the next lucky scavenger. Ada, back against the door, checked the gun for ammo, before looking up and seeing...

[i]Fuck.[/i]

Red light. Fire. The light of a torch was approaching her, a single silhouette illuminated, growing nearer by the second, Ada froze, a deer in the headlights.

[i]Think.[/i]

Right. Ada moved from the back door to the front of the gas station, staying in the shadows. She raised her gun as she neared the window.

"That's close enough." Ada didn't yell, she tried her hardest to give her voice an even tone, she could see the older man, and she was sure he could see her now. He had a rifle, more powerful, but he was still at the disadvantage, she had a gun pointed at him. "Drop any weapons you have-- [i]slowly[/i]. Raise both your hands, and step closer to me." She maintained contact with the hard brown eyes the gruff looking man, in the dim firelight, her eyes held an empty glare, but the demeanor in her voice changed with her last question, "Hi? W-what is it you want here?"