Five years ago, no one would have known what toxoplasmosa gondii was. But now, everyone knows what it is. Everyone that's alive, that is.

Evolution is something that has been talked about for ages. Some say we evolved from monkeys, others say bacteria. Some say evolution never even happened. But it was caused. Toxoplasmosa gondii is a parasite which only infected rats. It wasn't a threat to humans, which was why it was used as a test subject. Scientists were working to speed up the process of evolution, and due to no research done prior before this project, they started out small. The tiny parasite was tested on continuously for five years. At first, every experiment done on the parasite resulted in it dying. Then slowly there was a change. The minute parasite soon showed a tiny shift in shape. Just a small indentation unnoticeable unless it was being looked for. Then after more research, it had changed in shape but still had the same qualities. Soon, other qualities began to change. The parasite grew faster, larger. This was called The Plasma Project.

Scientists thought this was a great step in the engineering of evolution. They soon planned to move onto rats using the same tests that they had done on the parasite. But they took it too far. A tad too much prodding, a pinch too much probing where they shouldn't have. They thought evolution would work for the greater good, reach new levels and set new bars in the science world. But the parasite's shape wasn't the only thing that was affected.

The scientists didn't expect the parasite's ways of infestation to change. They thought that no matter what they did, the parasite would still only affect rats. But they were wrong. The parasite soon made its way into the human blood stream, and its effect on the brain soon commenced, as it did in rats. The parasite takes over the brain of its victim, and immediately a change is evident. First it's the personality. Irritability, mood swings, slow thinking. Then comes intense hunger, lulls in brain thought, and a general slowness in actions and movements. After that, the snowball of effects intensifies. The victim loses all ability to control their brain. The parasite takes over and tells the brain what to do. In this case, eat. Eat flesh.

The parasite soon turned its victim into mindless, brain dead, blood hungry cannibals also known as zombies. After the parasite finishes its goal of taking over the brain, it leaves its victim with one last mission. Infect others as fast and efficiently as possible.

The parasite spread like wild fire. Once a few were infected, it was much too late. Drugs that would have once made the parasite stop from evolving and moving were no longer useful. The process of evolution of the parasite was too far along for the drugs to work.

The day the parasite first entered the human blood stream and brain was June 25th, 2012. Five years later, Earth is a destroyed plain ravaged by the works of the parasite. And it gets worse than that.

Those still alive, less than a handful around the world and an estimated less than one to two hundred people, live in constant fear of the zombies. And they're not your average, shuffling, out stretched arms, brainless creatures. Some are, but not all.

There are different levels of zombies, depending on how the zombie saliva entered the blood stream. This is much like the levels of evolution of the parasite.

[*]If through a small scratch or nowhere of much importance (not a major artery or gland), the zombie will be like every typical horror movie zombie. No intelligence, slow moving, and the works.
[*]If through a minor artery, gland, or vein, the zombie will still have no intelligence. However they will be faster and stronger.
[*]If the saliva enters through a major artery, vein, gland, or organ, the zombie will be extremely evolved from the Level One zombies. They will be much faster and stronger. The worst part is, is they are not without intelligence. They are harder to trick, and their main goal is to exterminate the rest of the human race.

The zombies' only goal is to eat and kill.
Your only goal is to survive.

Do not post unless you are Kya Katsumi or musikfreakx.

Stefan Michael Everdeen.
Twenty two years of age.
Born on October 3rd.
Originally from Myrtle Beach, North Carolina.
Stefan was seventeen when the parasite of The Plasma Project took over. Since then, he's been surviving well by himself. But every night he's haunted by memories of seeing both of his parents turn into zombies and instead of calling him down stairs for dinner, they tried to have him for dinner.
Stefan is generally good guy, but since the apocalypse he's been guarded. The only reason he hasn't gone insane is because of the dog he rescued from a group of Level One zombies and has kept with him since. He craves to be around other humans, but he's learned to not get his hopes up too high.

Elaine Marie Baker
Twenty one years of age.
Born on August 12th.
Originally from San Antonio, Texas.
Elaine was sixteen when the parasite took over. She can still remember the breaking news report of the parasite quickly escalating above an "isolated incident" to a worldwide pandemic. Her family quickly stocked up on food and water and boarded up their home, but it was useless. Within a few short days the infected were ripping at the boards and it was only a matter of time before they got inside. Her father pushed her into a closet, handed her a pistol, and ordered her to stay there until she heard only silence. Needless to say, when she emerged, her parents were nowhere in sight, only large amounts of blood, everywhere. She has been traveling alone and surviving since.
Elaine is a caring girl, she tries to help others in this chaos as often as she can, unfortunately it rarely helps. She is cautious and she is a good fighter.

Dead silence filled the super store, the multitudes of aisles vast and empty. In the clothing section, shirts hung unmoving from their silver, reflective stands. In the dairy and fridge foods section, a slight rotting smell lingered in the air as long expired food wilted in its containers. In the book aisle, no grubby hands flipped through the pages. In the toy aisles, no children whined at their parents to buy them this or pleeeeease just let them have this one toy. The customer service center served no complaining buyers who hadn't gotten exactly what they wanted. No teenage cashiers obnoxiously chomped gum as they rang up item upon item.

The only sound in the super store came from the cereal aisle, where a tall figure and a short, overweight dog pigged out on the delicacies they had found. They couldn't be blamed, of course. The mega store was completely untouched; the windows weren't missing shards of glass, the doors weren't kicked in and the shelves of food weren't turned over. Nothing was ransacked or had been ravaged through. And the best part; it was zombie free.

Stefan Everdeen gulped down a large swig of his Red Bull, as his left hand reached into the now half empty Lucky Charms box. His fat Boston terrier had crawled halfway into a bag of Kibbles dog food, its black butt wiggling and its stumpy tail wagging furiously in delight. Stefan's sparkling baby blue eyes were half mast as he feasted.

"We're lucky, Nugget. This is like Heaven for you and me," he said to the dog, chuckling as he did so. His voice had a slight foreign accent, inherited from his parents who had originally been born in Greece. Nugget backed up from the dog bag and looked up at him with large brown eyes. She smiled to be smiling as she happily chomped a round piece of dog food. Stefan laughed, running a hand through his dark brown locks. He had a small, light honey streak in the front of his bangs that he had had since birth. His tan skin contrasted well with the white V neck and dark blue jeans he wore.

Stefan knew it was quite odd for him to be talking to a dog. But he couldn't help it. After saving Blubber Nugget, Nugget for short, from a hoard of level one zombies, he had grown close to her. Man's best friend, after all. But he figured it was a good thing he had found her. He would have gone insane if he didn't have another living being to talk to, even if it was a pudgy black and white dog with too big eyes, a stumpy tail, and a short body.

A large duffel bag was strewn on the ground beside the odd pair. Stefan hadn't bothered to fill it yet; his first action in the untouched store in the middle of nowhere had been to feast. And that he had. A bag of Cheese Doodles, a package of double stuffed Oreos, and an empty Coke bottle were to his opposite side. After having to ration out his short supply of food for the last week, he had stuffed his face full of the junk foods.

The six foot three, brunette male couldn't remember the last time he had had a real meal. Scratch that, he remembered it clearly. Five years ago he had been at his house in Myrtle Beach, North Carolina. It was right on the coast and two stories. The outside was a light blue and if you stepped off of the last porch step you were literally in the sand. Less than half a mile walk and you were on the edge of the ocean, the waves tickling your toes. He was upstairs, waiting for his parents to call him down for dinner. He was only seventeen at the time.

After getting distracted by his laptop, Stefan had realized it was late night. Roughly 11 pm. His parents still hadn't breathed a word to him, and he had heard them shuffling around downstairs. With his stomach twisting in knots, Stefan had made his way down the light wood steps, creeping cautiously into the kitchen of the beach home. There he saw his parents; eyes sunken in, mouths hanging slack, feet shuffling on the ground as if they were stuck in syrup. At the sound of their son, his parents' head snapped up, their eyes burning as they looked at him. For a moment the male was paralyzed, watching as his parents drew closer and closer, arms outstretched with a hungry flame in their eyes.

With that Stefan had finally been able to move, darting up the stairs as quick as lightning. He grabbed his laptop and book bag and set off for the attic. He had been walled in there for three days before his laptop died. He had been living off of junk food he kept in his book bag and gum to hold him over between times when he ate. For the three days he was there he had searched on his laptop, looking up what had happened to his parents.

That was when he had found out about the Plasma Project. His parents, who were top notch scientists, had told him they were working on something massive, something that would change the world. And that it did. While Stefan had been shut up in the attic, hiding from his parents, the parasite his parents had been testing on had spread like wild fire. All over news sites were articles of mass pandemic; of people turning into mindless creatures.

When Stefan left his hide away, his parents were gone. He grabbed a duffel bag and loaded it with food, clothes, and a picture of him and his family before his sister had died a year prior. With that he set off, driving through back roads in his '68 midnight blue Camaro.

That was five years ago. Stefan's car had finally quit on him after two years of driving. He had salvaged gas from abandoned gas stations and cars. The engine finally gave out and Stefan had been walking all over, looking for others. He had found raiders who tried to mug him, thousands of zombies, but no one like him. No one who had made it through the global apocalypse and wasn't either a zombie or a dangerous raider.

At the moment Stefan had no clue where he was. He figured he should look for something to tell him that around the store. But for now, he'd just sit back, relax, and eat until he couldn't move.

The streets were empty and eerily silent, as Elaine Baker walked down the center of the small town road where she could easily keep an eye on the surrounding establishments. A small gust of wind blew over her, sending bits of paper and trash sliding and rolling across her path. She reached up to brush the strands of her long dark chocolate brown hair from her face, as her hazle eyes scanned the area. The town looked awful, as most of them did; windows shattered, half boarded up doors, walls tagged in colorful paints, not a living soul in sight, and not a single dead one either. Rays of the hot midday sun that loomed high above the town fell upon her face, causing her to feel a little less than comfortable in her short leather jacket. The jacket was a little much for the warm weather, but it served as good protection from the ripping teeth of the infected.

Elaine was stepping around debris and broken down or totaled cars when she spotted a small white corolla parallel parked in front of a small post office down the street. The vehicle seemed to be in running condition, and despite the blood stains that were smeared about the paint and windows, it looked untouched.

Picking up her pace she made her way quickly down the street, constantly aware of her surroundings. She stepped around a metal overturned trashcan, hopped over a large truck tire, side stepped a small black suitcase... Things like that always made her wonder, but not for long. She'd seen a lot of crazy things since the beginning of the outbreak, and had learned not to dwell upon them too much.

When she reached the vehicle she was relieved to find it unlocked. Flinging the door open she searched the tan fabric interior, the center console and then the glove compartment for the keys, but to no avail. She sighed as she slumped into the drivers seat of the small car, go figure.

The black and brown sawed off shotgun that she carried lay in the passengers seat beside her, strap dangling to the floorboard. She didn't have more than one, maybe two shots left in the gun, which could prove to be an issue if she left herself out here in the open, unprotected for much longer.

"I'll have to try and hotwire it," she mumbled to herself. Talking to herself wasn't unusual. She had been alone for so long, she found it comforting to hear a voice, even if it was hers. Sometimes she talked just to remind herself she were still human. Sliding out of the car to kneel beside it, half in the floorboard, she ripped the plastic covering from under the steering wheel. She'd done this many times over the last few years and found it to be a no brainer. Elaine could hotwire anything, with her eyes closed.

In less than thirty seconds the car sputted before turning over and continuing to run with a low hum. Smiling to herself, Elaine stood and slid back into the drivers seat and closed the door, her smile quickly fading. She leaned forward resting her forehead on the steering wheel. "Why me?" The gas light was on, the tank was empty, and the chance that a gas station in the town had any gas left was one in a thousand.

She sat there for a moment with her forehead rested on the wheel when something caught her out of the corner of her eye. She raised up to jump nearly out of her skin, as a zombie was reaching for the window. Elaine's heart was racing as she put her hand to her chest, assessing the situation. He was slowly scraping at the window, smearing a mess of blood around as he moaned down at her. His shirt was bloodied and he had a clear bite on his forearm that looked puss covered and green. He was clearly a level one zombie, and her window was rolled up, doors... now... locked.

Adjusting her rearview mirror she saw a small team of zombies slowly making their way towards the vehicle. No problem, she thought, they're all slow moving, I'll just back out and let this heap take me a few safe blocks before it putts out. But suddenly in the small team of the infected came two quicker zombies, pushing through them as they ran towards the car. Elaines eyes widened as she threw the car in drive and peeled out of the space, making a quick left since the zombies were behind her and the main road ahead was blocked with a large pileup of wrecked vehicles.

Her foot was heavy on the gas as she swerved to miss debris, a van, an army vehicle, a stroller... The corolla took her suprisingly far, almost to the other end of the small town. This side of town appeared to be cleaner, without as many broken and boarded windows, or debris in the road and on sidewalks. There wasn't any tagging on the walls and telephone poles welcoming the apocalypse. Elaine shook her head thinking of the morons who would write such things. They were probably dead now anyway.

The small car lurched forward once, then the lights on the dashboard flickered off and the car slowly came to a stop in the middle of the road. Elaine dropped her head back onto the headrest. Great. She grabbed her shot gun and glanced around her surroundings, checked her mirrors and made sure it was clear before she pushed the driver side door open and stepped out. This town was clearly still inhabiting the infected and she didn't want to be out in the open come dark. To the right was a string of small businesses, boutiques, a cafe, an H&R Block, and to the left, a super store. Maybe there was still food, and hopefully water inside. The car had placed her right where she needed to be, her luck held strong.

Elaine walked across the street, stepped up the curb and made her way through the near empty parking lot to the double automatic doors of the store that were pushed open far enough for her to step easily through. The store was enormous, and suprisingly clean. No blood puddled in the floor or sprayed the walls, no zombies ran towards her, no windows broken or things scattered around the floors, it was untouched. It took her back to a time before the world was taken over by the parasite, toxoplasmosa gondii, and she smiled.

This was going to be the perfect opportunity to stock up on some gear, and eat. She took a left at the front of the store, her black leather boots buckled over her tight pants, hardly making a sound as she silently made her way towards the sporting goods section. As she approached the section she immediately spotted an army green camping pack. Ripping the tags off of it she made her way up and down the isles adding a lighter, a handful of light sticks, a flashlight, a compass, a map, a first aid kit, a handful of non-perishable energy and vitamin bars, a small pair of binoculars, rope, a swiss army knife, and a few other small things. Before heading towards the grocery section of the store she shoved a covered, six inch steel blade into the side of her boot and found a pair of fitted black leather fingerless gloves, pulling them on in satisfaction.

Elaine threw the pack lazily over one shoulder, knowing she'd be setting it down soon, and headed towards the other end of the supersized store to find some food and water. She was just past the middle of the store when she thought she heard a man's voice. No, she was just imagining things, it'd been months since she'd seen another normal human being, and the few she had come across had not been civil to say the least.

Unsure of what to believe she heard, she dropped the pack and pulled her shotgun over her head, holding it at her side pointed straight ahead as she slowly crept down the front of the store, isle by isle.

But of course, Stefan reflected to himself as he heard hushed footsteps nearing him. Why hadn't he made sure to blockade the doors, he mentally scolded himself. He could have smacked his head in such aggravation. Since the parasite had spread and the apocalypse had begun he had taught himself to always be as careful as possible. If you're staying in an abandoned house or building, make sure all entrances are barricaded. Always be aware of your surroundings, and when possible keep your back guarded.

The male gradually rose to his full height of six foot three. That wasn't to say he was lanky; quite the opposite in fact. Stefan was more or less one hundred and eighty pounds, all muscled and toned from swimming and sports. He could almost peer over the tops of the aisles as he listened closely for any more tell tale noises. The footsteps didn't sound like that of any level zombie, slow or fast. The steps were discreet and smooth, measured and cautious as they came eerily closer and closer.

Reaching behind him, the brunette grabbed hold of the pistol tucked between his jeans and his back. His black and white Boston terrier shuffled out of the bag, looking up at him inquisitively with her ears straight and alert, eyes bugging out of her head as they always did. He held a finger to his lips, letting out a barely audible 'shhh' at the dog. Somehow the dog seemed to comprehend and merely looked towards the end of the aisle, waiting for whoever or whatever it was to make its dreaded appearance.

Stefan preferred to see the other thing, whatever it may be, before it saw him, but he knew that was impracticable. The only way he'd be able to see would be to go out of the aisle, and it would see him as soon as he saw it. Gritting his teeth together, feeling his back molars grinding, he blinked his baby blue eyes and, as silent as the grave, made his way towards the end of the aisle.

Taking the slow journey to end of the aisle, dismay growing in his gut, Stefan felt a hefty knot form in his throat. He had done this before: crept to the edge of a passageway or alley to see zombies feasting on a mutilated corpse. Fortuitously every time it had happened he had been able to get away before they had taken heed of him. Of course, he hadn't had that encounter with Level Three zombies, but he didn't plan to.

Cue generic scary music, Stefan thought mordantly to himself, trying to make himself feel at least a tad better. But the effort was to no avail. His gut still twisted in terror and his hands were clenched so tight around his pistol his knuckles had turned white. As he reached the end of the aisle, he counted out the passing seconds as he waited. Every second felt like an hour, and the waiting made him begin to get antsy. If he was going to be attacked by a horde of zombies he might as well get it over with now.

With that final thought, Stefan launched out from behind the shelf of cereal he had been taking refuge behind. His sneakers thudded on the tile flooring as he landed and he pointed the gun straight in front of him. He saw a girl stalking towards him, sporting a shotgun pointed straight at him. "Holy shit. Don't shoot," he yelled, eyes widening as he looked down the barrel of her gun. "I won't shoot if you don't," he offered, traces of his accent lacing through his words, but he kept his gun pointed in front of him and making sure he was a few feet away in case she did try anything.

Instantaneously Stefan's guard went up. He hadn't seen another actual living and breathing person in at least a month. And the last time he had said person tried to kill him. Fortunately the man was drunk off his ass and couldn't point the gun straight. He ended up shooting himself in the foot. It was quite effortless for Stefan to get away then.

The young woman in the leather jacket with the sawed off shot gun made Stefan apprehensive. She could be a raider, or she could shoot him in a mere moment if she so pleased. His baby blue eyes took her in, seeing she was alone, and he inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. If she was with a group he stood no chance. Though she was a girl, Stefan Everdeen would be careful to not underestimate her. In eighth grade he had his butt kicked by a girl he had said couldn't hurt a fly. Even so, she obviously had a larger gun and his pistol seemed like a useless knife in a gunfight.

The mood was immeasurably tense and anxious as Stefan waited. She could blow his brains out at any second, and he prayed to whatever god there was that that wouldn't be the case. He held his breath, nerves on edge, waiting for her words.

A yipping filled the air, resonating from the aisle Stefan had just come from. He let out a small groan, brows furrowing as his roly-poly of a dog bounded out of the aisle. She skid on her paws, surprised at how her running made her slide on the floor. In effect she stopped right at the opposing female's feet, happily peering up at her. Stefan couldn't help but smile, a dimple popping out under the right side of his mouth.

Her breathing was heavy as Elaine tried to steady the gun in her hands. What the sound had really been wasn't something she was enjoying imagining. Her heart seemed to race faster as she found each isle empty, she had to be close. She paused for a moment, unknowingly at the isle that Stefan and his furry companion occupied, as she tried to steady her nerves. She repositioned the shotgun and took a step forward just as a tall man jumped out of the isle pointing a pistol at her. Taking a step back as she gasped, her finger squeezed the trigger of the shotgun a fraction of an inch before her brain processed that the man was clearly not a zombie. Luckily for him she hadn't squeezed the trigger hard enough or he would have been a headless corpse by now.

A wave of relief swept over her, her heart still racing. Elaine kept her gun raised up at him. It had been a long time since she'd run into any other humans, but when she had, she'd found that they were either awfully wicked and heartless people, or poor souls that didn't have much longer among the uninfected. Either of which this man was, she would be ready.

Elaine was staring into the man's eyes trying to assess if she could trust his words. They were standing there now, in a stand off of sorts, neither lowering their weapon, but neither shooting as they tried to read eachother. His blue jeans and white t-shirt definitely weren't the clothing style of raiders or other crazy folk that she'd run into, and his blue eyes seemed sincere as he stared down at her.

In the next moment, Elaine's thoughts were interrupted by an incessant yapping sound as her eyes darted to the left in time to see a tubby little black and white dog sliding into the side of her boot. She lowered her gun and laughed. It had been a long time since she'd seen a cute little pet and this one was adorable, with her barrel of a body and nubby tail wagging in a way that made her whole back end wiggle from side to side. Elaine knelt down with a smile to pet the little dog. This pair was definitely no harm. Speaking sweetly to the little dog Elaine couldn't stop herself from smiling, "Hey there sweet girl, you're just so cute, yes you are! You sure don't skip any meals no do you?" The little dog reminded her of her own family pet, but the thoughts saddened her as she pushed them from her mind.

On that dreadful day when she was sixteen and had emerged from her hideout in the closet to find her parents gone, she made her way quietly through the house, pistol in hand. It was a good thing her father had taken her shooting and she knew how to use the thing because upon reaching the living room of the large house, their family pet and loyal friend, Cade, a german shepherd greeted her at the entrance of the home. He had large areas of flesh and fur missing, his ears were down and he was bearing his fangs as a low growl emerged from his belly. Blood and drool puddled under him. In the next moment Cade had lunged at her and without a moment of hesitation, Elaine had pulled the trigger, again, and again.

She blinked as she tried to erase the images from her mind, standing again to face the tall male who stood before her she took a few steps forward, extending her hand. She was 5'7" and found herself about eye level with his neck as she looked up at him. Smiling she introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Elaine Baker." Her heart rate had steadied now and her gun hung from her hand pointed barrel down. She needed to remember to look for some ammo, as it would surely prove useless when empty.

Stefan's heart thankfully slowed down when the female reached down and pet his over sized dog. He felt like putting a hand to his chest or sinking to his knees and thanking whatever higher power there was that she hadn't shot his head off the millisecond she saw him. Of course, it had looked like she was about to, at least for a mere moment. However he couldn't be one to blame her. He'd only met raiders, the infected, and those who had gotten the virus and were slowly starting to transition from human to the undead cannibal that now inhabited Earth.

He watched the interaction between the two, eyes still narrowed in suspicion. She could always be pulling a trick on him. Being sweet to his dog, and then any moment she would ump up, shotgun aimed straight at his face or heart, and either kill him or demand him to get out.

However he didn't sense that from her. She seemed civil enough, at least talking to his dog. But he'd been on edge since that terrible day five years ago when his parents had tried to eat him for dinner. He didn't know this girl, he didn't know her story. Then again if she knew his he didn't know how she'd react. His parents were two of the scientists that had engineered the disease itself. If it were someone else and someone else's parents he would want to blow their brains off right off the bat.

But she didn't have to know that. He could just keep that tiny little detail, about his parents kind of indirectly causing the apocalypse, to himself. He was positive she wouldn't reveal every little thing about her as soon as they met, and so he wouldn't either. He could just say he found it unimportant or irrelevant at the moment.

"Yeah, she really doesn't," he said in his velvety smooth voice when the female asked Blubber Nugget if she skipped any meals. He couldn't help but smile as the woman talked to his dog, but the smile faded a bit as she stood up and eyed him. Finally she introduced herself and stepped forward, arm extended and the gun thankfully back at her side. She was a lot shorter than him, most people were, and had a small figure. For a second his muscles tightened in anticipation, not quite sure if he could trust her. But usually people he couldn't trust didn't smile. And she had a nice smile.

With his tight muscles relaxing, he had done a lot of sports in high school, he too extended his arm. His hand engulfed hers and he shook it gently, surprised at her grip.

"Stefan Everdeen. That's Blubber Nugget, Nugget for short," he introduced the two. The fat Boston terrier happily walked circles around Elaine's feet and he narrowed his eyes at the dog. The little traitor.

"Found this place completely untouched. Not quite sure where I'm- we're- at though. I was hoping to restock and maybe spend a night or two here," Stefan said and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. There was quite enough food and supplies in the super store for the both of them, but if it came down to it and she tried to claim everything as hers he would simply yell finder's keeper's.

Blinking owlishy at Stefan, Elaine wondered what he meant by not knowing where he was. Did he not carry a map, or read signs? She shrugged it off. Maybe he was busy running for his life, or simply didn't think his location mattered enough in todays world. Fortunately for him, whatever the case, she knew exactly where they were. She was born and raised here and for the last five years refused to leave this great state, traveling from town to town as resources diminished or a group of the twisted or raiders moved in.

"Surely you know you're in Texas," she said with a raise of an eyebrow. "We're about an hour East of New Mexico, and that's where I'm headed." She looked down at Nugget again who was circling around her feet and couldn't help but giggle. The dog's name alone was funny, not to mention the comical little legs on the big round body. She redirected her attention back to Stefan. "I heard it's beautiful there and Texas has become mostly desert now, it's dead, nothing grows, no rain..." she paused, "But I've heard rumors, that there's a city in New Mexico that's been closed off from the outside dangers. The people inside are infection free, and thriving." But that had been a long time ago. Two years ago to be exact. There was no telling now what the city held, if anything at all. But there was only one way to find out.

Elaine pulled the strap to the shotgun over her head and let it fall against her back. "If you're planning on staying in this place, I'd suggest you close the doors in the front." With that Elaine turned and made her way back towards the pack she had dropped earlier when she'd begun searching the isles. She wondered where Stefan was headed to, and where he'd come from. Which lead her to wonder what his story was. Everyone had a story after all.

When Elaine reached her things, she leaned forward and picked up the backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. Now, she needed to eat, rehydrate, and find some ammo. Glancing over her shoulder at Stefan she wondered if he would mind her staying here the night too. She didn't think he was the type to mind, but if he did, well maybe she'd shoot him. Elaine shook her head at herself as she looked away from him. Of course she wouldn't do that, she didn't have the guts or the heart to shoot an innocent man. If she wasn't welcome here she'd just have to be on her way.

She opened her mouth to ask him, when there was another noise at the front of the store. A million things began to race through her mind as she turned to face that direction. Maybe the infected had found them and were inside now. Maybe this was all a trap from the beginning. Of course, why else would he have left the doors open but to lure some unsuspecting moron like herself inside. More commotion from the front. Damn, she only had one, maybe two shots left in her gun. She was backing away from the front of the store without even realizing she was moving. Frowning deeply, her heart pounding, her eyes scanned the front. Something was there, but where?