[b]10 Terminus Place
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America[/b]

It was morning once again. It was quiet, too quiet. Gone were the usual chirping of the birds that used to herald the break of dawn. Gone were the sounds of traffic, the roads now stood silent. Insects, however were as present as ever. The flies were still around, ignorant of the way the world has changed. The world was no longer what it had used to be, and the many people that roamed around the world had been decreased to an alarming amount. Most of the population had fallen to the virus,(as she called it) and risen up as the walking dead. 

People had to learn to survive by themselves or band up together with others. Supplies that began plentiful, slowly dwindled as looters and hoarders got their greedy mitts onto them. Money had gone the way of the dodos as they were no one left to buy or sell things to. Trading and bartering had became commonplace once more, and civilization seemed to had taken several steps backwards.

Olivia fell asleep early last night at around 9PM. [i]But, what did time matter anymore?[/i] All that mattered was day and night. It was like time no longer existed, as there were no more schedules to follow, no need to report for work, no trains to catch and no appointments to keep. [i]The only thing that mattered now was day and night, when the sun rose and set.[/i] She was pretty sure that she heard gunshots late last night. The world was quiet now, and shots like that tend to echo for miles and miles, unhindered by any other form of noise. She was half asleep and thus couldn't tell how far away it was. But, gunshots meant one thing. People. Survivors. Getting from a rather plush bed, she took several moments to gaze at the body-length glass windows that that in front of her. 

Sunlight streamed in through the unobscured windows, curtains parted wide aside. It had been a stroke of luck that she had found a place as luxurious as this. Scrounging through the nearby office complex at Terminus 100, she had managed to find a set of keys that had a key tag on it that labelled the unit number and the words [i]"Home Sweet Home."[/i] Well, chances are that the owner would have no use of it any longer, so why not use it then. She had been on the road for some time now, and it was great to finally have a safe place to stay in.

Grabbing her backpack, and checking to ensure that she had all her belongings with her, she fastened on her belt, together with her machete in its sheath on her waist accompanied with the SIG Sauer pistol in its holster on the opposite side of the belt. Fully equipped, she got out of the room, and shut the door, locking it with the key. I[i]t was her home now.[/i] While walking around Peachtree Street the day before, she had came across a boarded-up supermarket. She didn't give it a second though then, as finding a place to live in was more of a primary concern. Now, that she had that settled, it gave her time to spend on others, such as this.