[center][h2]A [color=lightcoral]Dance[/color] with [color=maroon]Death[/color]: Opening Night[/h2][/center]
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[color=lightcoral]"...piiz'dets blyaa..."[/color] A Russian curse, that might have been meant for God's ears, was muttered by a lonely girl who sat curled up in the driver's seat of a police car.

Everything was fucked up, the past twenty-four hours being possibly the worst ever since this shit show called "existence" premiered. About this time yesterday, the lonely Russian-cursing girl, Anastasia Abramova, had just lost the only other person she had left in this world and she hadn't even known him for long. Carl Logsden was a member of New York's finest and had, up to this point, taught Ana everything he could about survival in this strange, fucked up world. He might have been one of those doomsday fanatics or something because he seemed to know exactly what to do, at least coming from Ana's point of view. Regardless of the man's hobbies, Carl taught Ana how to properly handle a gun, scavenge for food, and so on, but most importantly, he tried to teach Ana how to react to her changing environment. He coached scenarios her about what to do if she ever was injured, how to siphon gas, and how to judge people. He practically preached his advice and after a certain point, Ana naively began blanking him out not realizing he wasn't going to be there forever. Now with him gone...

Needless to say, Ana hadn't done much to progress herself, dipping into bouts of hopelessness and despair, not daring to leave the small parking garage that hid the Crown Vic and its inhabitant from the wandering dead. She had plenty of food to last her for awhile, even though she wasn't eating, but apparently in her grief-stricken bout and a general hunger, she consumed a lot more water than she should have, consuming the last plastic bottle's last night. Now she was parched but she was terrified to go out and scavenge for more. Fuel was also starting to become a concern. It had dipped just under a quarter tank this morning, fuel was wasted by Ana's attempts at working the CB radio listening to the static channels or occasionally voicing a plead that probably went unheard. Her resources were being burned at a rapid rate without her even noticing.

While Ana may have been moping about, she wasn't at the point of seeking her end yet. She sat up from her curled fetal position and rubbed her eyes. She hadn't been crying, but she wearily drifting in and out of sleep. She turned the key, starting the Crown Vic right up. She didn't really have a planned destination in mind, but anything was better than sitting here, she figured.

Ana spent thirty minutes driving about aimlessly. She remembered she was in Pennsylvania but couldn't remember the name of the town that Carl mentioned as they entered its borders. In all honesty, she was trying to find a way out of this town but she might as well be lost at this point. Her wandering eventually gotten her to some fuck-where suburbia. Eventually she found her way to an intersection which a sign labeled the perpendicular street as [i]Chester Creek Rd[/i]. Giving little thought to which direction she was going, she took a left and drove down [i]Chester Creek Rd[/i]. 

The mindless dead would turn to see Ana driving at a casual, quiet pace, but something far faster than they could keep up with. She wasn't worried about them, steering around each of them if they were in her way. Eventually she reached a portion of the road where two vehicles had collided, leaving only a small passage off to the side. It was enough to fit her own vehicle by, but only just. She was hugging the railing as she passed by. Her attention was focused on the cars, seeing their previous owners fidget in their seat belts as Ana drove past, so Ana didn't notice what was in front of her until she had just about cleared the accident.

Directly ahead, about a football field in length, was a figure, not shuffling around but walking upright, back turned from where Ana was quietly watching from her vehicle. She seemed to have frozen in place, quietly coming to a complete stop. It looked like he was in military fatigues and he unmistakably was carrying a weapon in his hands. Ana's thoughts raced by as panic began setting in. What should she do? She so desperately craved someone else to take charge of her survival but she feared the things Carl warned her about when encountering new people... A sudden bang from behind, followed by a low groan startled Ana as she was deep in thought. Ana jumped with a yelp, turning to look at a lowly zombie that had caught up to her, and in that same second accidentally signalling her presence.

[i]Hoonk![/i] 

Ana's eyes widened as she withdrew her hand from the center of the steering wheel. Her attention shifted away from the banging zombie and instead watched the man directly ahead of her, fearing the worst but hoping for the best...

[@FallenTrinity]