Only a few

Ashley pulled her long black hair up into a high ponytail. She quickly twirled the scruntchie around the base and looked around fearfully. Her pale skin was covered with dirt and grime, and blood trickled from a cut above her left eye. Her blue eyes were moist, and her clothing was dirty and torn.

She was kneeling outside of a broken down building, with a crooked sign that read, "Target". She had gathered as much food and fresh water she could, along with needed supplies and first aid kits. She slund one of the stuffed backpacks on one shoulder and slipped her other arm through it. Adjusting it on her back, she slung the second over her right shoulder, grunting under the weight of the air mattress. Ashley fixed the sleeping bag on the top and stood. Her yellow tank top fitted her slender body perfectly, and her cargo pants were ripped at the thigh.

She had her eyes set on a nice and big abandond wearhouse. She was going to help as many people as she could along the way, to join her and save their race. "There might be much needed supplies in there." she thought to herself. Sighing she started to walk.

As she continued to walk, a silhouette appeared in the distance, obviously limping, clothes ragged. The dusty silhouette limped forward, one arm at it's chest carrying a bag of sorts, the other hanging limply. As it approached she realized it was the figure of a man, he collapsed shortly after, unable to continue walking to her.

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He groaned. she cautiously advanced to the man. when she got close enough, she started to talk " W-who are you?" she asked, trying to be brave. The man looked up at her "can you help me up first?" he barely said.

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