[hider=Ambience][center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uj0DuD92TIk[/youtube][/center][/hider] [center][img]https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/014/752/232/large/renata-marsheilla-abandoned-cafe.jpg?1545306084[/img][/center] Springfield, population 627. Or at least, that's what it looked like it said under the spray paint. Someone had decided to increase the population by thirty-nine. Taylor rolled her eyes. [i]Never seen[/i] that [i]before[/i], the young woman thought sarcastically. In the time she'd been traveling, some genius always thought it was funny to change the population signs to "666". It was tacky and cliche, and by now she was half-convinced that the person was one step ahead of her and doing it to screw with her. But regardless, the odds of there being even one human here were slim. Nobody alive stayed in one place for long. The only exception she'd come across was a village with a thirty-foot high wall under the control of some weird cult who had enough firepower to take down an armored convoy. Taylor had left that place as soon as the leader had opened his mouth and called the raptors "God's divine wrath for man's wickedness". Taylor had been moving since six this morning, with breaks every two hours. The thunderstorm had started around an hour ago, and she'd been hating every second of it. The noise made it difficult to detect if she was being followed. But now she could hopefully find shelter. The two most promising buildings she could see immediately were a diner and a gas station. She slung her rifle over her shoulder and drew her revolver as she opened the door to the diner. The building didn't have the typical scent of a raptor nest, and as her eyes adjusted, she couldn't see any droppings, feathers, or remains of a kill. No raptors, but that didn't rule out the possibility of other dangers. Taylor moved into the kitchen. The shelves were picked clean, save for inedible things like books and empty containers. She could possibly find something useful. [i]But at the very least, I'm out of the rain.[/i] She moved towards what looked like the manager's office, but stopped short. Was it her imagination, or was there some light coming from under the door? There was some light pressure between her shoulder blades. "Don't move," came a quiet voice. "Unless you'd like some bullets in your back, I highly recommend you put your guns down and start talking."