[b]Ada Cinet - MEC  Ground Level Hallway - John Teller[/b]

Blood pulsed through Ada's ears, her body was sore from the abuse of adrenaline the last six months had forced on her. Each step was smaller than the last, her legs stung, her arms felt like jelly-- But that didn't matter. She could keep her gun raised, she could still move, she could still see and think. That was what mattered. She could survive as long as she had that, and luck, but she could continue forward in the world. It didn't matter in that moment, if the world was some lonely Mexican road or the dark and dusty corridor of some Texan hospital. It wasn't all she had, nor was it all that mattered-- but survival would be Ada's.

The blood pumped so loud in Ada's head she could only barely hear the world around her. [i]Barely[/i]. 

She inhaled, tightening the grip of the gun in front of her in preparation for a confrontation. In the light of the hallway, a man stepped in front of her-- their distance was only one of a few meters, but that was all it took for the shadow of the dimly lit hallway to obscure Ada's small figure and for the man to be completely exposed in light. A small part of her couldn't help but notice the cinematic merit of the situation, perhaps it was even symbolic of something?

[i]But what?[/i]

The man spoke, he was younger than Clayton, but stronger, also. He'd been keeping himself maintained well. Here? "Put the gun down and I will not be forced to shoot you" The man's eyes were serious, but Ada didn't comply, not immediately. Her mind was in a state of conflict. Guns weren't unfamiliar to her-- she had held a man up not 12 hours ago-- but still, avoiding death when faced with the barrel of one was always a unique challenge. He spoke again. "Whatever you want, we will not give you, so please.........do not do this" A weak part of her mind that craved companionship told her to do as he asked, that she should just drop her gun and do what he wants. Another part, a smarter part, a part that wanted survival and company detected something in his voice, a certain treble. The man was protecting people.

Ada kept her gun raised and spoke, revealing her gender, she parroted words that had been spoken to her not 12 hours ago. “I’m not going to drop my gun, and I know you’re not gonna fire yours.” In a compromise, she lowered the firearm, aiming at the lower torso of the man as she gingerly stepped into the light, sighing as she spoke again. "I took out some of the sickos on my way in, but the door can't hold 'em off with that lock shot off-- two shots would be like a dinner bell, and you couldn't protect whoever else is here with a gut-shot."

Her body was shaking with hunger, but she maintained eye contact with the man.