Sam squeezed her upper arm as someone else picked up the topic of security. She knew only a few names, uninterested in learning them as of yet, and this man's name alluded her. She nodded along to his words, stopping herself when it became apparent, and turned her body slightly to face his.

The battle of the day before offered little time to take inventory of the university's resources. A more careful sweep of the campus gave her the chance to collect materials, and take stock of the damage done to the buildings during the last two weeks. They could pool the medicines at the same time. She didn't need to be a doctor to know what could be useful.

She stepped back to get a better look at the whole room as they deliberated. Some four-eyes set off with the same old about security -- Sam could have sworn she already said that -- but his comment about dogs at least told her not to write him off straight away. The latecomers seized her attention, though. Darcy's too, by the way she straightened and adjusted her glasses.

The way they strode in with their guns and a damn sword, Sam didn't like it. Sure, it made sense to be cautious. Still, they were too much of an obvious choice to take control.

At least, she thought, the dude with the beard seemed to get it. A suggestion or two more passed around the room before the guy from the start spoke again. The conversation sped up.

Sam unfolded her arms and waved a hand. "I like that idea. Split up, get a bunch of stuff done at once. Recon versus sweep. I'll stay, clear the place out properly." She turned to the soldier. "But there's no way I'm gonna herd myself and these people into one big place like cattle to be guarded by some jumped up military guys I don't know or trust." She enunciated her words with a few waves of her hands and shifted to stand taller and closer to her niece. Her tone softened, albeit not by much. "I'm all for gathering resources and whatever, you just can't go rounding people up. Especially if you're wearing a uniform and carrying guns like that. You ever heard of pack mentality? There's no chance of civilised anything if they start a rebellion 'cause they think they're being controlled, and this lot are on one hell of an edge."

Even in the end of days, people liked their freedom. If it came down to personal choice, Sam would much rather take Darcy, grab a gun and hole up some place on their own. Could be any number of unsavoury people taking refuge on campus, and in this room itself. Sam didn't have to see the minute details to tell some of the attendees had their own agendas. Who wouldn't? Only an idiot walks into an event like this one thinking he can save everybody.

"One of you docs stay back too, start looking after people. M.D. or no, they'll be less likely to go all trigger happy that way."

Abby wasn't particularly interested in the discussion of solar panels and electricity - she spent most of her time in the field, away from things like plugs and light switches. She paid more attention to the doctor, her hackles rising at the use of the word "Jap." Possibly he just thought it was short for "Japanese person" but then again, but an educated man really should know better.

She stood up when the Japanese person in question showed his PDA to the group, slipping her hammer into the loop on her cargo pants and walking closer to get a better look. The legends were all in Japanese, but she was fairly certain that she could recognise the layout of the campus and identify some land features.

"I'm not saying we should round people up at gunpoint," Abby said, looking around at the woman who had spoken. "But for now, I think it's a huge waste of resources to defend the whole campus. We should limit ourselves to a few main buildings, and spread out more if and when we can make a larger area secure. Not everyone can be a special snowflake. I mean, we did all band together for a reason, right?"

She walked half-way back to her chair, feeling slightly anxious about leaving her bag unattended. "But we don't have an actual leader, do we? No-one agreed to any particular authority when they signed on. So at this point if some people want to go for supplies and some people want to secure the place, probably the best thing to do is split up and get working. There are enough people here that we can multitask, but that sun," she gestured vaguely upward, "isn't going to wait patiently while we argue."

Garbage duty was a shitty job in the apocalypse. Chris had taken it upon himself to clean up the bodies left behind from the group clearing out the campus. Valentine wore a bandana around his mouth and nose to stop himself from gagging, oh, the joy of zombies. The man busied himself with chopping the heads of zombies off and dragging the pieces to the bed of his truck. He would then drive them out of the community and dump them into a pile. It was crude, but at least the campus wouldn't smell like shit most of the time. Christopher hated that he had to use so much has, he only had a couple gas cans left for his truck.

After finishing his little job, he decided to go listen in on the meeting at the Administration Hall. He arrived late, which meant that he didn't really know what was happening. Listening was something Chris was good at, so he stayed quiet and let other people voice their opinions. Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Now, Chris only used to smoke on occasion, usually during times of stress; but now with the way things were, smoking had become a slight habit. The nicotine seemed to calm him down just enough to keep a level head and not freak out about the fact that he was in a freaking zombie apocalypse. Taking a drag and realizing the vapor, he finally spoke. "I just finished cleaning up zombie from around campus so I missed the first part of this meeting. Have we decided on anything yet? I think we should secure a few buildings so we can have a place to sleep without having to keep one eye open ya know? Then we need to have some people get supplies because I'm pretty sure we don't have enough of anything. Oh and can we all introduce ourselves? I would feel much more comfortable if I knew all your names, seeing as I just joined you group... I'm Chris Valentine by the way." Chris then put his cigarette back up to his lips and returned to silence, hoping that they could come to a decision soon so they could get some supplies.

Marcus scratched his head, plans seemed to be have made. He was no longer worried about the Wal-Mart think as much. The Jap had offered to scout out the store, just to make sure they could safely make there way inside. Marcus already knew what he was doing, he would be working on the solar panels with one of the men who claimed that they were a mechanic. All they needed to do was out there plans in motion.

"Alright! What are we waiting for? We should probably tell the citizens about this, find any volunteers. And set our plan in motion." He said as he looked at the participants. Your not the best speaker. Marcus sighed, he really was starting to hate this "voice in his head". Marcus glanced at the man who said they should introduce themselves, Marcus sighed once again. "My name is Marcus Mustang." He said with a thin smile on his face.

"Well, Captain, all due respect to you and your men," Roy said, scratching at his closely cropped hair. "But I think maybe you're overlooking something. There might still be people holed up in town. This is the reddest part of a red state, chances are the locals ain't gonna be too pleased if they see foreign troops poking around on American soil. If end up having to parley with anybody, I think maybe an English-speaking American might be best." He shrugged. "Like I said, no disrespect. I just think you guys might be more useful here. I'll meet you halfway, though- if you lend us a radio, we can call if we run into trouble. People or eaters."

"Young lady's right, by and by," he said as he stood. Roy retrieved his pistol. "Daylight is burning. If you're coming with me, best grab your gear and meet me outside." With that, he gave a nod to the ladies in the room, and let himself out of the conference room. He was going to need a truck or van, something that could haul a lot. Maybe a crowbar too, bust a few locks. Mind occupied, Roy starting asking around for someone to lend him a pickup.

Calvin was hoping for a idea so amazing that he couldn't help but get behind but during this meeting that didn't really happen so I guess it was going off on a supply run that seemed the best option for the time being. He went back to his duffel bag and took out all of his clothes and placed them nice and folded in a pile leaving his jersey on the bottom since it was most precious to him.

This was the case because it was the last piece of his old life that he had before the Apocalypse, since you could be called whatever you wanted to be called. The jersey was the last true item of his wife and children, seeing the last name of them on the jersey.

He grabbed his duffel bag and threw it over his shoulder and picked up his metal bat and headed towards the crew of people that were heading out on the supply run. Calvin also had a bandana around his neck for whenever he seen a zombie that he could pull it over his beard because if it ever got covered with Z-blood he would be extremely pissed off.

As he walked forwards he was limbering up, rotating the bat over his head and stretching his arms.

"But there's no way I'm gonna herd myself and these people into one big place like cattle to be guarded by some jumped up military guys I don't know or trust. I'm all for gathering resources and whatever, you just can't go rounding people up. Especially if you're wearing a uniform and carrying guns like that. You ever heard of pack mentality? There's no chance of civilised anything if they start a rebellion 'cause they think they're being controlled, and this lot are on one hell of an edge." Sam, a woman, attacked Captain Ishida Hisashi's ideas.

The UN medical officer was exasperated beyond words. It would be weeks or months before he grasp of English could overtake his emotions. Such paranoia! Such ungratefulness!

"Well, Captain, all due respect to you and your men. But I think maybe you're overlooking something. There might still be people holed up in town. This is the reddest part of a red state, chances are the locals ain't gonna be too pleased if they see foreign troops poking around on American soil. If end up having to parley with anybody, I think maybe an English-speaking American might be best. Like I said, no disrespect. I just think you guys might be more useful here. I'll meet you halfway, though- if you lend us a radio, we can call if we run into trouble. People or eaters." Then their leader apparent had all but sealed Hisashi's lips.

After a pause for thought, the captain reluctantly said, with perhaps a little discontentment showing through: "Very well. Do what you please. Use radio frequency 40.51 FM. We will be close by." After that, he turned to leave without waiting for a reply. He pitied these Americans more than anything; He had put he and his unit at their disposal and they had cast them aside in a fit of distrust. Back in Japan, his people survived, and that was made possible only through cooperation. Even the Yakuzas, the vilest criminal organisation there, had cooperated for the most part; only some of them had to be fought against as they started claiming territory for themselves.

Before he passed through the conference room door, however, he paused for another moment, unable to leave without speaking his mind, "I pray you know what you doing." This he directed at Sam, "you may have your... philosophy, but why gamble the lives of children? The messenger told me there are many. What if they are attacked? And we are too far away?" He said before pointing to the child with Sam, noting the resemblance, making eye contact with Darcy for a moment. "What about her?" Having difficulty continuing because of the language barrier and because of his rush of emotions, he left it at that before putting on his helmet, locking his visor and moving on.

Sergeant Maiko however, was staring at the people in the room, her expression obscured by the glint in her visor. What they did not know was that she was looking at them with spears in her eyes. While her superior did not show it, she knew that the civilians had upset him, and that had made her very angry. Her sympathy could only extend to the children of this new community, but personally, she couldn't bring herself to care about the adults; Hundreds of her colleagues had already died thanklessly.

"Maiko! Let's go!" Captain Ishida Hisashi shouted from halfway down the corridor in Japanese, his voice muted by distance and walls.

The medical officer had changed his mind; he would drive the armoured rover out with 3 of his men and leave Sergeant Maiko behind to manage their new HQ - dictating which room becomes the bunk and to tidy up their new command room and field hospital. This would leave 6 soldiers behind, just like what the leader apparent wanted. The only good thing he could see from this was that at least the leader apparent had entrusted him with the protection of the people in the college campus... To an extent.

Gearbox had respect for the captain. Though he had respect for any who served. He knows what can happen to a man in war time. He decided not to comment on the matter of the Japanese handling recon. Though military support would be very helpful. He didn't think we should become dependent on them. Foreign troops have foreign orders, and most soldiers will fallow orders.

He nodded to Chris," good work. I'm Jason Rue, but I'd prefer if everyone just called me Gearbox." Taking care of the 'dead' was smart. Most people don't like waking up to the things that they killed the last night. The radio was a smart choice also. This Roy guy might now what he is doing.

As he stands to fallow Roy,"If no one gets to the ROTC building, I'll deal with when I get back." Heading down the stairs and to the truck he slept in last night. Opening the back, he went to his toolbox. In the bottom of it was a small pistol and a ankle holster. "Just in case we run into bandits," he mumbled to himself. After that he grabbed his toolbox, closed the door, and walked to were Roy was."I'm ready whenever everyone else is. "

As soon as the first few left, Sam grabbed her niece by the hand and bolted from the conference room. When they made it a clear distance from the Halliwell building, only then did she let go. Of course she received a boatload of back-talk from the kid. Sam ignored it, focusing instead on the group gaining number by the trucks. Her own truck, a red beat-up thing, was parked somewhere on Lewis Street. She'd keep it and its half tank of gas out of unfamiliar hands so long as she could.

"Are you listening to me?" Darcy whined.

Sam kept her eyes on the doors of the administration hall. It seemed a few others had kids following them around; she wondered if that meant they were more trustworthy, or less. "Yeah, yeah. Look squirt, you still got that knife?" From her back pocket, Darcy pulled the penknife. She could tug out the blade by herself now, and when she did, she waved it around like a flag. "Easy! It's not a damn toy."

"I know that." Darcy huffed, folded the knife inside the handle and stuffed it in her pocket. "Sam? If you're going to look around, where am I going to go?"

She hadn't thought that far ahead. Neither of the options currently bouncing around her head appealed that much. Sam and Darcy had been by one another's side since the start of this mess. Sam's heart did crazy things if her niece stood more than an arm's reach away. They'd just have to take their chances together. "You're coming with me. And you're gonna stay right next to me the whole time, all right?"

Darcy's face contorted in a frown, albeit not the same insufferable look Sam was used to getting. "Okay."

They headed back to the truck to retrieve the tire iron and tools kept hidden under the passenger seat. They weren't much in the way of weapons, but they'd been useful so far. With her tool belt clipped tight around her waist, half obscured by the tied sleeves of her overalls, Sam marched back towards the Halliwell building, niece in tow, to find the rest of the sweep volunteers.

Chris was still kind of lost, but oh well, he would catch on eventually. The man stomped out his cigarette outside, and flipped his hood on top of his head to block out the slight breeze. Valentine had followed Roy outside, wanting to tag along if they needed any help. "I have a truck, four seats too, so there should be enough space. What do you need it for?" Chris was glad to help, he believed that allies would be the key to surviving. Sure, he could defend himself quite well, and was in great shape, but the walkers out numbered him. Chris was really hoping he could snag some supplies, he was running low on.... Well... Everything. 34 bullets was not enough ammunition for him to feel safe. He was also weary about all of these people he didn't know, was his supplies safe?

"My car's parked over there," Chris directed, as he pointed his finger at his truck. Valentine turned to Roy, "who's coming and what's the plan? If we use my truck I'm driving and if you find any gas I need it. I can help with the walkers, I'm a good shot, I used to be a police officer..." He remembered his days as a cop, the station wasn't too far away. He decided not to bring that up with the military around, they had enough weapons. He would tell Roy maybe, he seemed like he knew what he was doing.

Roy was more than a little pleased to see his plan had gotten a bit of a following. The doctor was coming with a loaded rifle, the muscular baseball player was bringing along a bona fide Major League bat. The other men looked more than capable, Roy was frankly glad they were on his side. If he had had men like this in the old days, he wouldn't have had any trouble from the North Side organizations or even the Cipriano Family. Damn Italians. Roy idly wondered how the Mafia was doing back in KC. Poorly, he hoped.

Roy honestly had no real beef with the Japanese, they had been nothing but helpful. But old habits were hard to break- a man who had made his livelihood selling cocaine is bound to be a little suspicious of the Establishment. The captain seemed like a bit of a hardass. God knows what the man would do if he found out Roy's profession.

Then again, the man offering to lend a truck (Valentine? Roy wasn't sure of all the names just yet). When you're in the game for twenty-five years, you get a sense for who's a pig and who's not. Something about it, the posture, the eyes, something, tips off the experienced criminal. Roy knew that the best clockers were the ones who knew when not to make a sale. If their instincts were on, they were just about to offer a felony to a plainclothes officer. And that would never do.

Sure enough, Valentine casually mentioned that he used to be a cop. Roy felt his heart skip a beat or two, but regained his composure quickly. After all, Roy considered himself as someone who had won the game. He could handle one former cop.

"That's a generous offer, brother," he said with a clap to Valentine's shoulder. "I think if we need gasoline, we should just siphon it from abandoned vehicles. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?" He tried to sound solemn and regretful that the situation called for looting. "I'd be happy to have you come with us," Roy said as he climbed into the truck, setting across his lap the crowbar he had wheedled from some unsuspecting Nebraskan. "You used to be a cop, eh? Where at, just out of curiosity?" Despite his nonchalance, Roy was genuinely concerned- if the man was a Kansas City, Missouri cop there was a small chance Valentine might know exactly who Roy was and what he used to do. Maybe a smart cop would let bygones be bygones, but the former druglord couldn't help but worry.

Before Captain Ishida Hisashi set off on his search and rescue mission, he intended to follow up on his word to provide them with a radio. Even if they were paranoid, even if they had cast an unsightly gaze upon him, he intended to be there for them. It was the mandate of the UN, and of the JSDF to help civilians, to uplift the weak and defenseless. Once upon a time, he had been a surgeon, a doctor and pediatrician. It was his passion to wrest the needy away from the skeletal hands of death. In a sense, he hadn't changed at all, even if he was forced to wear a uniform and bear arms.

The medical officer, for his fireteam of four, had picked three of his infantrymen and one driver to pilot the rover. The college was relatively untouched by the Coming of Hell, so the less combat-oriented Kyonshikirapeitai would be quite capable of guarding it.

"Remember, we are going forth to rescue our fellow warriors in need, so leave the thought of glory here in this American campus." With his chosen men lined up at the carpark outside the School of Education, he gave them a preparatory talk. Ever since running out of senior officers and veterans, they had looked up to him ever since, "To breath life into them is glory unto itself. These times are terrible, but true terror is to become one of the Kyonshi. We are alive for a reason, and I believe that reason is to preserve life itself." Then looking up at the sky then his watched, he decided to conclude his talk quickly, "Should we see anyone - and I mean anyone, in need, we will stop our rover and help them. Ichiro, keep the UN flag close, don't forget to mount it on the rover. People will know us to be good when they see it."

"Should we really help them sir? I've overheard what was said in the conference room as I guarded it. They do not want us around." Private First Class Ichiro, the flagbearer, said with a touch of dismay. Like Sergeant Maiko, he was a little dismayed that his captain had to tolerate the attitude of the Americans.

"Yes. We are the UN. We are the JSDF. We are Kyonshikirapeitai. And as fate dictates, we do things the old ways, as Samurai. Bushido requires sacrifice. Even if it is thankless." The captain replied firmly, even if he himself had a strained relationship with the ideals of the samurai. To him, it was little more than philosophy, something pushed unto him by his family and clan; if it weren't for the Coming of Hell it would have remained as philosophy. His passion to help could exist without such an embellishment. Alas, as things became medieval, the old ways of the samurai became useful and important again.

With that, they took their rover down, but before they leave, they stopped by the convoy that was being put together by Roy, leader apparent of the civilians holed up in the campus. Captain Ishida Hisashi got out of his rover, the radio he promised to the leader apparent in hand. It was a spare, found in one of the military trucks. It consisted of a rugged but high tech looking walkie talkie with a digital screen that looked like it could kill a person, as well as an earphone with a mic and a speaker. It resembled something a police officer would use. "Here is your radio. Do not hesitate to ask for help." He said to Roy, and after taking a despairing look at the rag-tag group of civilians (how many will not return, these foolhardy adventurers?) being put together for their 'mission', he returned to his rover.

Marcus's original idea of working on solar panels fell apart. Unfortunately, the people wished to go into town. So intern, the Captain, offered to scout out the area, which meant no panels. Not to mention the fact that the mechanic that was gonna work on it also was leaving with the raid team. Marcus sighed, they choose to find food before actually securing there own living space. He had to admit, that was very illogical, especially in the situation that they were in. This world's logic has been long thrown out the window.

Marcus entered the hall without a job, and left without one. "Typical." He mumbled to himself. While others were getting ready to head out, he was standing here with nothing to do but watch. He longed to go to the Wal-Mart, but he still thought it was a stupid idea, especially with the size of the group. As I said, this world no longer holds ties to logic. "Ya I heard." He retorted.

Marcus walked along the concrete path and towards his old car. It was a 2006 Mitsubishi Lancer, it was the car that his father had gotten him when he turned 18. Marcus smiled, old memories flooded his mind, his father placing the keys in his hand. Him driving the car for the first time with his father next to him. Unfortunately, thinking about the old world did not help his moral.

He opened up the truck and pulled out his school bag. He dumped everything out of it, grabbed his axe, placed the backpack back inside the truck, and walked towards Halliwell Building for the sweep. Finally getting off your butt. Marcus's lips formed a straight line, "Sure." He said stoically. He walked over to the lady that he had seen in the Conference Room, she had a little girl with her. "Looks like I'll be joining you." He said the a dry laugh.

Calvin was excited and nervous at the same time, this was his first time off the campus since he had gotten here but he felt a lot safer going out this time. Just having people who had the same mindset that he did; survive. Not to mention there was a couple of raid members who had firepower. Something that would have made him feel more secure and possibly have more teammates that would have survived the journey over but that time had passed. His friends were now above him watching over him or at least that is that the priest that his wife always insisted they went to on Sundays that Calvin wasn't on the road or playing a home game. When Calvin got to the vehicle that they were taking on the raid he realized that he didn't have a sharp object for any super close encounters.
Guess it's time to ask for one or risk being a hazard for mission failure. " Hey guys I don't have any sharp objects, does anyone have one to spare. Or Gear do you have a spare screwdriver that you don't mind if it gets messed up?" He felt a little dumb offering to join a raid mission without having proper equipment. That was when he remembered that he should bring up looters again. "Also I just thought of something, on my trip up here we got jumped by a bunch of looters getting closer to Kansas City. They were all dressed in three piece suits that were well equipped with firepower. They stole one of our cars and let no one live from that car."
Calvin opened the door to the vehicle and hopped into the back seat.

Abby hadn't actually intended to break up the meeting with her comment about time wasting. Rather, she had expected the people on the Walmart run to go, leaving the rest of them to decide how to manage their other projects. Well, what was done was done. Abby had opted for field work instead of a faculty position that would have forced her to teach specifically because she found people hard to predict and manage.

She returned briefly to her place at the table to to fetch her backpack, hefting it securely onto her shoulders. She was going to have to secure a place for her things if she wanted to take part in anything useful. Abby knew she couldn't face the Rabids effectively with a back pack on, but she was also loathe to leave her things where some looter could grab them. She had plans to set up some kind of small laboratory eventually, and needed more security for that than her hammer - trusty though it was - could provide.

So, upon leaving the meeting, she headed straight for Stiles. She wasn't completely sure who would be in charge there, but was certain that they would leave someone with passable english and some amount of authority.

She stopped a short distance outside of the building, showing her hands so that anyone watching her would see she was unarmed. Well, she wasn't unarmed, that would be stupid, but at least they would be able to see that she wasn't actively brandishing a blunt instrument at them.

"Hello!" She yelled, "Konichiwa!" She didn't actually speak Japanese, but she was pretty sure that was 'hello.' "Anyone hone?" She wasn't sure if she should knock or not; she didn't want to offend any heavily-armed UN sanctioned ninjas or whatever.

As a visitor had entered the 2nd Kyonshikirapeitai's designated safe zone, a few figures emerged from the front door, some of them walking backwards. As it turns out, some of the soldiers were beginning to clear out the corpses that were the result of their skirmish in the building; they had just liberated it fully, with the basement completely Kyonshi-free. Some of the civilians hanging onto the remnants of the UN peacekeeper unit were also helping out, carrying bodies to a growing pile of rotting flesh set upon a modest amount of firewood.

A little girl nine years of age was nearby, watching butterflies fluttering from one flower to another near the entrance. As the soldiers bearing the dead bodies came out, her attentions were shifted to them. "When I grow up, I wanna be just like them!" A boy only a year or two older than her exclaimed as he watched his guardians performing their duty with her. "What do you want to be?"

"A graceful ballerina, like auntie Maiko. She told me that she used to do ballet."

Sergeant Maiko had noticed Abby as soon as she shouted her greeting. There were numerous windows and she happened to be looking out of one. Following up behind her labouring men, she flicked her Wakizashi, and droplets of blood fell. As she walked down the stairs leading to the main entrance of the building towards the visitor, she produced a cloth and started wiping her sword with it. "Saitei Kyonshi! Bakayaro!" She cursed as she rubbed her sword hard. Her riot gear and vest was similarly splattered as well.

Unlocking her visor and pulling it up, she revealed her face, which was relatively fair and blemish-free for a lady-in-arms, but reddened with anger and exertion. Then there was that look in her eyes; there were alot of things at the meeting that she was peeved at. "What do you want!?" Without realising it, she shouted at Abby, before checking herself and starting all over again as she returned her shorter sword back to its scabbard, "I apologise." Taking a deep breath and a bow and burying her anger, she continued, "Is there anything I can assist you with, mame?"

---

Taking the main road leading into town, Captain Ishida Hisashi was making a beeline for the closest infantry icon on his computer. There was still a distance to go, so he decided to do a radio test. Pressing the transmit button on his digital walkie talkie, he spoke into the mic on his headset, "This is Captain Ishida Hisashi of 2nd Kyonshikirapeitai 3rd Company, UN US Mission, to Roy of... Civilian Group 1-Alpha, second radio check, over." He released the transmit button and waited. If there was a time when he did well in the local language, it was in radio discipline. The utilitarian sparsity of the language ensured that what he spoke sounded like good English.

Standing aside of the growing team of supply runners, Sam watched the young man who had introduced himself as "Ray Ray" approach. A stupid name, if ever she heard one. She placed her free arm around her niece's shoulders, ignoring the voice in her head telling her how obvious she was being. "Looks like," she replied with a grunt. Avoiding his eyes, she surveyed the rest of the people exiting the Halliwell building. "Just us then." She rolled her shoulders and turned the tire iron over in her hand. "Let's get going."

Sam made for the nearest building to Halliwell, and Darcy followed. She figured it'd be easiest to start from the Halliwell building and work her way out. The signs on the lawn claimed it used to house the classes for business, art and music. Whoever thought it would be a good idea to merge business with the arts must have been real stupid. Still, she couldn't help thinking that maybe the place held something for her. If not something to use as a weapon, at least there might be instruments. 

The door opened without trouble and lead them into a corridor so wide Sam hesitated to give it that label. Shoe marks marred the floor in odd places, beneath discarded books and backpacks. Sam pulled one up and emptied it into her hands; a book of sheet music and some note paper fell out. She set them carefully on the floor to avoid making too much noise and swung the backpack onto her shoulders. Tightening the straps, she did the same for Darcy.

"See anything useful, throw it in," she told the kid in a hushed tone. "See anything dead and walking, let us deal with it." She propped the doors open with a couple of the heaviest books she could see and walked farther into the corridor. Doors to classrooms lined both sides. Sam turned to Ray. "How 'bout you take one side and we take the other?"

Being snapped at didn't even merit a raised eyebrow considering the week Abby'd been having. She glanced around at the children and corpse-removers. Odd combination, that.

"Hi, yeah, we met at the meeting. I was the one who didn't spurn your offer of assistance? I'm Dr. Ng." Back in the non-ruined world, Abby had preferred to introduce herself without her academic title. Any implied authority could only help her here.

"Two things. First, I want to start telling people they can come to your building for, you know, safety. I figured I should clear that with you before I just started doing it. Second, I need somewhere secure to keep my things. I'm going to be doing some research, eventually, and I can't have people wandering in and breaking my beakers or whatever. I'm not offering nothing, either; I have some pretty useful skills. Like, how not to die of scurvy from eating nothing but beef jerky and twinkies. So, is that agreeable to you?"

She braced her hands on the straps of her backpack and waited for a response. The Japanese weren't her only option; she could always go back to living in the woods. She'd probably be better off there than with a bunch of individualists. But finding a place in a group where there could be some division of labour was a much better option than going it alone, in her opinion.