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

"Aren't we all nomads in this world? Safe haven doesn't exist and you know it." The man replied in his toned down world-weary voice. He read her well, and he was confident in that ability. He wasn't wrong at all; safe havens, places like The Reservation, they didn't last, the both of them knew that. But he was certainly pessimistic about it. Perhaps he thought he was just being a realist? Either way, he had a point. As he approached her, part of her tensed, naturally, but she continued to relax, reminding herself that there were still good people.

Or at least, people driven by more than the desires of the Id.

"The name's Clayton. I have no interest in being your friend or your foe. I just need a tyre for my vehicle over yond-", Ada tensed, her gaze following Clayton's to the two sickos by the car that he had apparently driven into Bandera. Clayton looked back to Ada, she hadn't taken her eyes off the sick, "It's probably best if you put your gun away and use something more persona-"

The blare of the car alarm gave her a start. Ada's eyes went wide and her attention became split between the car, Clayton, and the three sickos she had trapped in the back room, she could hear them scratching against he door, as others approached from the crevices of the alleys the small Texas city had. The sick seemed to materialize from the darkness of the shadows in the distance. He had brought them here-- more specifically the noise from his car, it's what drew them here, and the alarm would draw to this location, and then the light would... Well, that was one problem she could solve.

Ada noticed Clayton's own surprise, he looked at her, both of them barely registering how quickly things had gone to shit, Clayton appropriately commented, "Shit..."

[i]You need to remain calm.[/i]

"Shit, indeed..." Ada found trying to keep an even voice, trying to think. She put her new handgun in her bag as she left the gas station, and approached Clayton. "Looks like you got a friend for the night, Clayton--" Moving fast, she snatched the torch out of his hand and threw it toward the quickly amassing crowd of the sick, hoping it'd buy them even an extra second, "--there are three in the back of the shop, we can take 'em out, cover ourselves in their sick scent, and get out before too many get here."

She didn't wait for a response before turning to run back into the gas station, at the door of the shop she stopped for a second, turning her head to the side, "I'm Ada, by the way."