[center][h2][color=MediumSlateBlue]Ten Thousand[/color][/h2][/center]

The girl woke to the sound of feet, moans and startled yelps from animals nearby. In the back of her truck she had laid down, leaving the windows cracked a hair to let fresh air in over the night so she wouldn't get too hot and catch a fever. Eyes snapped open, grey irises searching for anything inside of the truck: finding nothing she grabbed her Bowie knife from the space beside her. Fingers wrapped comfortably around the handle, divots in the leather from the years of use. Looking out the back window she saw several zombies, shuffling toward the truck, though after several silent moments she realized that it didn't know she was there. It was joined by more, the congregation turning into a horde. It split around the truck, not one noticing that there was anyone inside of the vehicle. Without making a sound the female crouched, waiting for the horde to pass, barely daring to breath too loudly. She could feel the heavy pulse of her heart in her ears, fingers dancing with adrenaline, pupils dilating as the rush washed over her. Time slowed, it seemed an eternity passed before the horde was finally gone. They were headed south, away from the cold of the approaching winter. Toward the heat, and wherever any surviving humans holed up. They must have rushed through Dana Point and San Clemente before making it to her. 

Finally gone, she turned and tossed a box of crackers into the front of the truck, followed by the knife and finally the girl herself crawled into the cab through the small window. Dressed in torn jean shorts, sneakers and a plaid flannel shirt, she pulled her hair back in a lazy braid before opening the side door and stepping out onto the abandoned highway. There were cars littering the road, some almost completely torn apart and others seeming as if they were brand new aside from a thick layer of dust on them. Rolling up the sleeves of her shirt she ate a couple of crackers before slipping her bow onto her back and the knife on her waist. Not a walker in sight. Closing the door, she reached her arms above her head in a long, much needed stretch. She glanced around: still nothing. Without a word the young woman walked over to an overturned jeep, wondering if anything usable remained of it. Even if there was just a blanket or a couple bullets, a good part. Hell, she'd really appreciate a working radio. Maybe there was an old CD or casset player.

As she was rooting through one of the less damaged vehicles she heard voices coming from north of her, a group by the sounds of it. 10K dropped, crouching behind one of the cars, listening to them slow and stop. Several dropping to the ground in exhaustion, others leaning against cars. She peered through a crack in the door of the car she was ducked behind, watching what seemed to be the leader toss a rucksack and then lay a map down on the hood of the car she had just gone through. There wasn't anything left that was useful to her, and she'd siphoned all of the gas in the tank out just before they had gotten there. Half a liter at most, but something was better than nothing. Getting gas for the truck had been the hardest part of getting down here from Montana in the last few months, but luckily for her there wasn't anyone left around to need it other than her and her brother. And now that her brother was dead, this group may well have been the first living people she's seen in years. 

She moved her gaze slightly to a man walking away from the rest of them, passing by a man leaning back against a truck. Not just any truck: her truck. It wasn't like she was going to get anywhere near her truck without them noticing she was there, even she wasn't so skilled as to avoid notice out in the open by a group facing all sorts of directions. Waiting until the leader had his back turned to her, she slipped her bow off of her back and notched an arrow on the string. A hunting arrow, barbed and blood stained, fletched with swan feathers. Slipping just to the edge of the damaged suburban, visible but not yet noticed, she pushed off of the tire and leaped onto the hood of the vehicle, using surprise to her advantage she jumped over to the car that which the leader and his map was sitting on. Aiming the arrow tip at the man leaning against her truck she watched him for a moment, letting the initial chaos die down. [color=MediumSlateBlue]"Get your ass off my truck." [/color]