Ellen watched as people climbed into the death-trap that was supposed to bring them safely to the supply drop. She didn’t have the reverence Abigail did, or the confidence Matthew did, but wasn’t going to let that stop her from getting in it. After all, the strange contraption on wheels was just...the physical representation of how [i]fucked[/i] their whole situation was. They could keep patching themselves together, but they weren’t going to ever just be able to go to a store and buy something new and completely functional. Ellen had run before. She had picked up a bag, walked out the door, and resolved to never return. But this was different. The van reminded her that she couldn’t just change her mind and go back...not that there was anyone waiting for her anyway.

She looked down at her wrist, outlining the tattoo for a few moments before she followed Matthew into the van and took one of the open seats. There was no one to go back to, but there were people to look forward to, at least. 

Ellen turned her head as she looked over the other folks already seated. Abigail was drawing… a boob? No… probably a sun… Matthew seemed comfortable, Angeline looked like she would have doused herself in hand sanitizer if it had been presented as an option, and the other woman… what the hell was her name? Was smoking a cigarette. She had made some sort of negative comments about their transport earlier, but Ellen didn’t recognize the words, which supported the assumptions she had made thus far about the woman.

“Hey, I’m sorry I don’t think I caught your name before…” Ellen said to her when she caught the brunette’s gaze. “I’m Ellen, and you are…?” She asked. She had figured out everyone else’s names but hers, and figured it was good to know, since they were going to be working together on this mission.