[center][h2][color=limegreen]Day Eleven[/color][/h2]
[/center][center][color=limegreen]February 10th, 2110
Monday 10:33 a.m[/color][/center]

It was nearly an hour later when Abigail found herself sitting beneath the shade of an enormous oak tree, enjoying the breeze and a can of peaches drowning in sweet, light syrup. The spoon clinked as she scraped it across the can, scooping the last peach into her mouth. She was still savoring its sweetness when a frigid breeze rolled across her face, making her shiver slightly despite the ample amounts of sunlight attempting to warm the area. She debated moving out into the sun itself, but gaze into her laziness and instead pulled her jacket a little closer as she leaned back against the tree. Above, the clouds had quickly formed into a dark gray mass as the coming storm made headway, likely still relatively close to the ocean shore, she wasn't quite concerned that it would arrive before nightfall. The thought of the coming night sent a chill up her spine. It had been nice while on the boat, sure it had been a bit colder out on the water but the sense of safety was comforting. Knowing that it was quite unlikely anything was going to get her out there had let her sleep in relative ease, as much as one could get with nightmares. 

Every time she closed her eyes she was haunted. She saw the faces of her mother and father, from a time long ago when they had seemed happy and still in love. Before she drove them apart. Then there would be a flash of light, sometimes the red and blue strobes of a patrol car, sometimes from lightning, but their faces always changed, always distorted. It was hard to remember what they looked like sometimes, often time she could only recall their bloody mouths and haunting stares as they eyed her, sizing up her meal potential. Abigail shivered, feeling sadness well up inside her. She pitied herself, not that she deserved a family. She had gotten that chance once, and she had squandered it. It would have been fitting to have been torn to pieces right then and there by the people who tried their damnedest to love her. She should have just laid down and let them have her. Perhaps then, in undeath, they could have been reunited. A twisted resemblance of the family they should have been. A small tear escaped from the corner of her eye, making a pitiful trail down her cheek before she sniffled and wiped it away. She felt so tired, so exhausted.

The world had only ended a week and a half ago, but for her, this was only a new battle. A larger, more dangerous enemy in a long conflict of violence and hurt. She had done things she was not proud of, the kinds of things that constantly tore away shreds of a person's soul until there was nothing them but a hollow, empty shell devoid of emotion. She was still doing some of those things. The thought made her cringe, but she couldn't bring herself to throw her dependencies away. It had been awhile since she'd used, but that sense of longing was still there, buried deep within her heart. Lying beneath all the hurt and turmoil, waiting to rear its ugly head and demand she do what she did best–Relapse. To do the things that brought her such a sense of relief, and then turn around and try to kill her. The things that made her feel better about the life that had crumbled around her. 

She stood, feeling a sense of sorrow and panic well up within her. Her hand trembling slightly, she reached into her pocket with a small amount of urgency. She pressed the cigarette between her lips and sparked the light three times before it finally gave off a flame. A calming feeling washed over her as she took a long drag, feeling the smoke fill up her lungs. She let it go in a deep breath, watching the smoke curl and dance as it got the early morning breeze and drifted off into nothingness. She returned the metal case and lighter to her pocket, snatched her spoon up, and head off towards the road. The park shrank away behind her as she easily hopped the small, child-sized fence and made her way up the road–The same coastal road she had been walking along since she got here.

This area consisted largely of eating establishments, with a few official looking business and offices mixed in; most of which were on the hill to her right with the buildings looking out towards the bay. Behind the scatters of work places, the hillside was mostly dotted with what seemed to be medium, to high class residential homes. They had probably all been really nice at once, with glittering wind chimes and pristine lawns. Now they all looked as they should, missing a week or so of maintenance. In fact, one such house looked much worse. She quirked an eyebrow as she stopped and observed the house. It was a two story, though the upper floor looked as if he only held a single room, or perhaps an attic. It was hard to tell as the light, sky blue walls were overrun with thick tangles of vines which rose up over the house entirely to swarm across the pointed roof. 

Before she really grasped what she was doing, her feet had brought her to the property. Now she was only barred by the small chain link fence in front. She glanced up and down the street nervously, though it was devoid of life. There were no wrecks here, only a couple of cars that seemed to have stopped abruptly and sat askew on the edges of the road. Her founds themselves in the pockets of her jacket as she turned back towards the house. A handful of the vines seemed to be as thick as a thin tree, and even appeared to be growing some sort of protective bark. As she looked at one of the larger ones, it wiggled slightly, as if it were stretching from a long nap. The tendril curled around the smokestack to what would likely be a fireplace, and dipped inside the brick column. The chimney cracked as the vine forced its girth downwards, leaving Abigail standing in such utter fascination that the remaining stud of the cigarette fell from her mouth. The house groaned and creaked under the pressure, and just as quickly as it began it stopped. Abbie stood there for a full five minutes longer in utter awe, or shock. 

It was the sound of engines that finally pulled her away from the extraordinary site. Somewhere off in the distance, the distance rumble of a diesel engine. She took off at a light jog, heading deeper into the outskirts of the city towards the sound. She wasn't sure what she was expecting; people at least. She also briefly wondered if there was power here and if there was, if the gas stations were running. Though it was more likely the vehicle was using left over, or siphoned gas. She crested the top of the hill and stopped, a bit short on breath. Several blocks beyond the bottom of the opposite slope a convey was weaving slowly through the vehicle packed streets. The appeared to be going up a main thoroughfare, and the road looked clogged with abandoned cars as people tried to flee the city. As she looked out, she guess that particular road intersected with a freeway somewhere, but that may have been beyond the skyline. Mostly, this area was a lot of low, squat houses and business, with a few larger stores and shopping areas mixed it. Definitely residential oriented.

The vehicles all had the same tint of dark green paint, with perhaps some smaller writing that she couldn't see from this distance. Still, it was easy enough to figure out that they were military. There were two humvees, one with a mounted gun, and a personal truck follow behind them. The forward most humvee had an angled plow attached to it, which it was using to not-so-gently clear a passage along the road. She had heard there was a strong military presence in Washington, this area specifically. Apparently there was some base somewhere they were operating out of. Not that she particularly wanted to deal with the military and their rules, but the thought of them actively defending the area was more comforting than being in one of the war zones, referred to as red zones by most regular people she talked to.

The convoy stopped as the humvee wit the plow began clearing out an intersection, pushing the cars together to form a sort of blockage across the three opening, leaving only the one they had come through open. Curious, Abigail watched them intently as she made her way down. Perhaps she was just being nosy, or maybe she some part of her wanted to be comforted, to be told there were no ghouls in this area, no monsters. A Semi with a flat bed trailer piled high with boxes pulled onto the road, though it was so far away it was barely a speck when she noticed it. By the time she had made it to the bottom of the hill the semi had arrived, and what were definitely soldiers began unpacking it. She watched as they unloaded crate after crate into the intersection. Before she could ponder the thought further, one of the soldiers spotted her, though she was still a few blocks away. The soldier gathered three from his unit, and the four of them climbed over the vehicular barricade and made their way towards her.

It was still a good five minutes before they reached each other, during which Abigail lit herself another cigarette. The four soldiers, three men and a woman, were all dressed alike in standard green digital camouflage fatigues and a thick padded helmet. Additionally all four of them wore goggles, and only the point man had his weapon at rest. The other three were more concerned, and had what looked to be very impressive assault rifles trained on her. Abigail started having second thoughts, but they were less than a hundred feet apart when the man in front held up his hand for her to stop. She did as she was signaled, and put her hands up part away, making sure not to make any movements towards the small shotgun slung across her back.

"State your business civilian," The point-man instructed her, his voice was deep and quite commanding, and she was sure beneath those goggles he was leveling a stern gaze at her.

"Surviving the end of the world, sir," She replied, a bit of sass and mockery in her voice. Point-man didn't find it amusing, but his buddies obviously did as they let out quiet snorts and chuckles.

"We don't have any handouts for you," He said without any trace of humor in his voice.

"I was actually looking for some information," She said steadily, she figured if they were going to shoot her they would have done so by now. Her response seemed to be unexpected, as the soldiers visibility relaxed. The tension left their shoulders and they stopped pointing their guns at her, though they remained at rest with a hand on them just in case.

"'Bout what?" He asked, hooking his thumbs inside his belt.

"State of the area I guess, just got here. I was told there was a bunch of army boys cleaning up the streets," She flicked her cigarette, to which she noticed Point-man watching quite intently. Without thinking about it she reached into her pocket, and nearly got shot for it as each of them reached for their weapons. "Woah woah shit, I don't have the world's tiniest bomb in my pocket, fuck," She stammered out quickly, her heart leaping into her throat as she pulled out her metal tin of Racer cigarettes.

Point-man laughed as she flipped it open and offered him one. This was taken as an invitation to the other three as well as they all moved forward to take one, though they still seemed very cautious around her. Something made them pause, looking at the small cancer stick suspiciously. She sighed heavily, taking a third cigarette of the morning and lighting it in a huff, as if to say 'See, no poison." Satisfied, they passed around a lighter and for a moment, you might have thought they were all old friends as they stood around talking and smoking.

"Basically," Sergeant Konlei started as he exhaled a plume of smoke, the last name of which she gathered from the small badge attached by velcro to his chest, "We're pretty much fucked here too. The only reason we're even staying in the god forsaken piss ass cold place is because we've got a strong point up here, assets the big wigs up top don't want to give up. As an added bonus we have no power, no water, and our supplies consist mostly of dried food from a hundred years ago."

Abigail sighed as she listened, her dreams of a hot shower slowly dying a painful death. "What's with all the gear?"

Konlei eyed her in the way that let her know he was suspicious of the question, but a large, dark skinned man by the last name of Smitt nudged him, "She's just curious Konlei, there aren't any activists up here. This isn't New York." Abigail noticed Konlei, and the other two wince. That made her curious, [i]'What was happening up in New York?'[/i]. Regardless, it didn't sound like anywhere she wanted to be.

"There's not a whole lot of activity out here, a handful of swarms that wander out at night really. We're gonna try to burn them out and secure this area. We're converting the Elementary School into a safe zone," Konlei looked down the road, nodding his head in the direction of a collection of flat, one story buildings. Sure enough, Abigail noticed some playground equipment in the distance, it definitely seemed like a school, or perhaps a large day care.

"What's that entail?" She questioned, watching the plethora of soldiers haul off equipment into the school.

"We won't be able to support civilians, barely enough food and medicine for ourselves. But there's talk of fortifying some of the out buildings for civvies to come and go as they please. Seems everybody is worried about having a safe place to sleep," Konlei answered, despite not looking entirely too happy about the construction detail he had to look forward to. Still, the news made Abigail smile, which he saw.

"Don't get too excited, we gotta secure the operations first. That means no fortified sleeping areas until tomorrow night," He gave her a questioning look as she smoke, one that hinted at a question he was too prideful to ask. She obliged the look by offering him another cigarette, which he happily took–a small smile even cracked the worry and stress that had set in his face.

"Still, it would be nice to sleep knowing there are big boys-" She shot a quick glance to the woman, she gave Abigail a queer look herself, "aaand women protecting us little innocent [i]civvies[/i]" The last word was thick with her human, as most people she had met were far from defenseless, but perhaps that was just military mentality. 

"Well then boss, looks like we are doing some good around here, eh?" Pvt. Lumen, the woman, chimed in.

"Yea, well, it's time to go do some bad then. We're on construction detail," Konlei's words were met with groans of mock protest, "By the way civvie, didn't catch your name."

The others snickered suggestively as Abigail answered, "Abigail."

"Right," Konlei started, motioning to his name badge, "I figure you've gathered ours, so perhaps we'll meet again tonight." This brought another round of snickers and suggestive nudges from the others, to which Konlei looked entirely unamused.

"Perhaps," She said, waving as they turned to leave. No doubt he would be looking forward to another cigarette. Somehow Abigail doubted that was high priority on their rations list. She sighed, opening up her tin and counting how many she had left, eight. Perhaps she could loot a store for a few packs and trade for something, god knows she could use a few things. Maybe a decent shower, or a meal, or both. She sauntered off, humming lightly, at the implications of what a good trade with some military boys, [i]and girls[/i], could get her. Though a small niggling worry wormed itself into her thoughts, that meant she would have to raid a store, perhaps more than once. Her stomach clenched at the thought of having to face those monsters again. Albeit, she had awhile to steel herself for the coming task. The trade was more valuable than her fear of actually doing anything productive. One of the biggest driving factors was her low amount of food, and knowing what true hunger was.

Still, she hummed a tune softly as she turned up a side street at a brisk walk.

[center][sub][color=limegreen]12:19 p.m[/color][/sub][/center]