Group 47, that was our lucky number. We are the oldest smuggling team. I believe the youngest right now is... 132... 132. There is us, 47... then 132. That means approximately we've lost 2,125 people... I think we lose more smuggling than anything else combined...
Terrance was lost in thought as he laid on his couch in an apartment. One of the best... Tetra takes care of her best people. He yawned and sat up. His watch was just a silver frame as he glanced down at it.
*THUD* *THUD* *THUD*
Terrance jumped to his feet, his grogginess dissipating as if it never existed. He set his back up against the wall and waited for the door to be kicked in. He peered over his shoulder to see an envelope across from the door. He quietly stepped over to it glancing under the door to see any shadows. His adrenaline began to slow as he grabbed the letter.
He quickly opened it up. Inside there were ration cards and the actual letter. He pulled it out and read a "Group 47" on the folded end. He opened it to read the rest.
"Terrance
You did good on that last drop. I have another one for you. First here's the payment for you and the rest of your group. This next ones going to the East Boston Airport. Four bags. Three with ammunition and another full of supplements. I don't care how you get there, just make sure you get it all there.
Love Tetra"
Terrance flipped the letter over and observed the map to find out where he was dropping off the shipment, "Who wants ammunition at the Airport... that place is a military controlled zone." He sighed as he left his room. He locked the door and walked past a lookout.
"Got another shipment? Good Luck," the man said raising his hand. Terrance didn't turn to say anything, he simply raised his hand to show he acknowledged his statement. He stepped outside with the sun just barely rising. It wasn't extremely dark but you could roll an ankle if you weren't paying attention. He turned down street walking past two soldiers talking to each other. One glanced up at Terrance and turned back to his partner to continue the conversation. The walk felt perilous and bland. He looked up at each of the buildings he walked past. His group was constantly changing buildings.
He saw the Big Black X in one of the buildings windows. He noted the fire hydrant in front of the building. He stepped over to the door and turned to the man sitting at it.
"Tetra speaks again," he said as he turned and proceeded down the road. The man taking instant action as he hopped up and ran into the building. He ran up the five flights of stairs he had to to get to the right door. He opened the door and slammed it loudly.
Seeing that all four of the members of group 47 were present, he yelled, "Wake Up! Tetra speaks again. Terrance is already heading to the safe house. Don't waste any time. get up!"
Terrance walked past a few more soldiers before entering a more deserted looking building. He wasn't in the building for more than three seconds before the same boy came up to him.
"What up T-Man, how you be doing," he said raising his hand when he spoke.
"Andy... you already know why I am here," Terrance replied climbing up the stairs, Andy right on his heels, "have you been out today?"
"Naw man," Andy replied, "Tetra came by earlier this morning dropped off a box." Andy opened the second door on their right, "she told me to leave it shut. Your eyes only." Terrance stepped over to the box and opened it. There was a manifest on top of one of the bags.
"Manifest:
Bag One- Supplements, Roxy
Bag Two- Shotgun Ammunition, Miguel
Bag Three- 9mm Ammunition, Charlotte
Bag Four- Rifle Ammunition, Goblin"
"Christ man... that's a shit ton of ammo. What are they going to do, attack the airport," Terrance mumbled to himself, looking at his watch, "they should be here any second." He walked over to the couch that was placed in the corner. He pulled up the cushion and removed his bag. He also grabbed the ancient map of Boston that they always kept around for easy navigation. With Andy's help, they spread it across the wall.

The massive door slams shut with a resounding boom, echoing throughout the vast expanse of tunnels as faint voices approach in a frantic manner. Miguel drops the equally massive steel beam down into place - across the door - barricading himself in. The muffled sound of fists desperately pounding on the other side is barely audible. They've been chasing him through the maze of underground passages for the better part of an hour. Raiders. Three of them. They followed him to a secret entryway nestled within the basement of an abandoned apartment building outside of the safe zone. Now he's kicking himself in the ass for being so careless. They'll have to be dealt with before he can go any further. They'll have to die.

As a second-hand safety measure, Miguel slides a small latch into place on the door, securing it with a hefty padlock which clicks into place. Then, he steps away from the door and navigates a small passageway that leads North. After about 70 feet, he stops and reaches upward, grabbing hold of a small, black wrought-iron handle welded into the ceiling. A light tug reveals a small hatch, wide enough for a man to fit through, opening into uninviting darkness above. Miguel jumps up to catch hold of a small ladder, first dangling by his fingers before pulling his body up and disappearing into the pitch blackness beyond. His gloved hand reaches down to quietly close the hatch below himself.

A stack of makeshift pipe bombs is hardly visible by the faint glow of a flashlight from below. Miguel finds them more by memory than sight. There are a thousand other stacks of bombs located all over in the subterranean network used by smugglers such as himself.

Miguel holds one of the bombs firmly in his grasp as he peers down through a small pinhole between himself and the passage below. He observes the assailants for a few minutes while they babble among themselves in hushed tones. Then, knowing they need to be dealt with accordingly before attracting unwanted attention, Miguel makes his move. He pokes a finger through the pinhole and quietly pulls upward to reveal another secret hatch. Next, he leans away from the hole to strike a match and light the pipe bomb before silently dropping it into the passage below and setting the hatch back into place. There are a few moments of muffled voices responding with surprise and confusion before a deafening blast rips through the tunnel.

Miguel lifts the hatch again and drops down into the smokey passageway, this time with a knife in hand. He quickly takes in the scene before him. One of the raiders is huddled over another who is sprawled out on the floor. The third, a guy with a piss-yellow mohawk and ragged black clothing, is checking himself to make sure he's still in one piece after the blast. Miguel steps across the passageway, immediately closing the distance, and drives the blade of his knife into the raider's neck before carving outward, ripping his throat open. The raider clutches at his gruesome wound as a horrid look of surprise plays across his face. He reels away and collapses, choking to death on his own blood.

The second raider, still huddled over his comrade, now rises to his feet, approaches and swings. Miguel ducks and drives the blade of his knife up into the raider's armpit. The guy lets out a cry of intense pain before collapsing to his knees. Miguel finishes him off with a stab to the neck and a twist of the blade. The raider slumps to the floor and expires.

Finally, he turns his attention to the third raider still sprawled out on the floor. He speculates that the guy had been knocked unconscious by the blast. Approaching, Miguel stands over him and raises a booted foot. A quick stomp to the head, followed by the loud crack of bone, confirms a broken neck.

Miguel then climbs back up through the secret hatch, disappearing into the darkness beyond.

Roxy loved mornings. She enjoyed sharping her collection of knives. Now that they were all sharpened she needed to get ready for the day. Roxy planned to head to the Safe house to see what the plan of the day was. First she had to decide which of her treasured knives she would need today. Roxy slide a large hunting knife into each of her leather boots. Then she choose four throwing knives to put on her belt. Last she chose smaller knives perfect for the holsters in the arms of her leather coat. Now she was ready for whatever the day threw at her. Now to check in with the others. Roxy carefully locked her treasure room. She trusted most of the people at the safe Safe house but she wasn't taking any chances with her treasures.

Roxy nodded greetings to those that greeted her as she walked. Roxy wasn't particularly close to anyone, even after being with group 47 for few years. It was hard to change habits. She was glad to have a place to store her beloved knives and a way to acquire new ones. She hoped the next mission would gain her a couple more knives to add to her collection. Finally Roxy made it to the building she knew she would find Terrance in. Hoping he had something interesting lined up for today.

Not many people remember what the country was like before the outbreak. Those that do usually could only remember bits and pieces, for example recipes, or maybe sayings or scenes from television shows. It was the latter that Dimitri remembered right now, more specifically one phrase from a kid's show he watched that went something like 'The word of the day is-', and right about now, the word of the day was 'fuck'. As in, 'Why the fuck did his team try and stop for the guy stranded on the road?', it was so obvious it was a bandit trap, how could only he see it coming? When the ambush happened Dimitri knew that his team was outnumbered, and he did the only thing that kept him alive for so long: He ran. Two of the bandits had broken off to catch him, but after so many years of having to evade everything for so long Dimitri managed to give them the slip. Whats more, he managed to kill one of them and drag away the body when they tried to split up and find him, the other, well, that poor bastard had the misfortune to wander into a building filled with runners.

Dimitri wasted no time and began looting the body when he figured he was safe, there was no reason to go back to his team, he knew exactly what their fate was. "No use mourning the dead, right?" Dimitri asked the corpse of the man he'd killed as he rifled through his pockets for anything that he could actually use. It would seem fate was at least partially in Dimitri's favor, as he came away with seven .44 caliber rounds which brought his ammunition amount up to fifteen excluding the six bullets in the gun, a few large bandages, and a small mag-lite, all of which he quickly shoved into his bag. With his new gear safely secured Dimitri began to move on, it was only a matter of time before the other bandits came looking for their comrades. There was no way he'd reach a safe zone on foot before dark, nor was there any way he'd get the vehicle he team came in on back, meaning his only option was to start scavenging any usable parts as he continued on.

As Dimitri walked, he could still feel that word tingling in the back of his head, well, no use in just letting it rot back there, "Fuck.".

Charlotte stared into the darkness of the room. She lay on the ground with a floppy, under stuffed pillow underneath her head. Listening for the rhythmic breathing of her companions, not knowing if they were awake or not or even in the building with her, Charlotte tried to close her eyes. [i]I can't keep having the same nightmare forever, can I?[i] But as soon as her lids sealed closed she was not alone. Greeted by the ghoulish faces of those infected, mixed with the kind eyes of the ones she loved. Her empty mind echoed with the shrieks of her parents, the gunshots, and piercing of skin. Running, running, as fast as she could, but seemingly never fast enough to escape the memories that plague her past. Tree branches whistle by her ears as she runs. Jumping over logs and slipping through the trees. Charlotte hears the voice of her father, loving and kind, the remnants of his English heritage bleeding through his accent, [i]You've got a gift Lotte, never in my whole life have I seen any little girl as agile as you my darling. One day you'll be a champion for runnin', just watch my darling, just watch.[i] There is a gunshot, and the dream ends.
Charlotte sits upright as quickly as she can open her eyes. She breaths fast as if she had actually been running. Her body aches from previous days of smuggling, it was a hard job no doubt, but she loved it as nothing else could give her so much sense of purpose and adventure. The irreplaceable feeling of adrenaline coursing through her veins. With a sigh Charlotte realized that her dream ending gunshot wasn't a gunshot after all, but instead the lookout from below was now breaking open the door to the apartment.
"Wake up! Tetra speaks again." He said a few more words before disappearing back out the door. Not knowing if anyone else was even there Charlotte stood quickly, having already been dressed in case of some sort of emergency. Throwing her hair into a messy bun while walking into her worn down shoes and jacket, then turning out the door. The safe house is where everyone meets, its a place trusted by most everyone in the smuggling business, the place where the smugglers themselves received their valuables that were worth the risk of losing a life just to deliver. Gravel crunched beneath her feet, setting the rhythmic tune of her pace. Long steps, long strides, longer distance, less time. Ahead on the road Charlotte became aware of over a dozen men from the military. Don't be obvious. Don't be suspicious.
"G'morning miss, where are you headed off to so early?" One man asked as she approached.
Hesitantly Charlotte froze in her steps and peeled her eyes off the dirt beneath her feet to make eye contact with a soldier. Her spine stiffened but relaxed before anyone could know that something was off. "Just on my morning walk, just circling around the lake about a mile down and on the left." She smiled innocently and batted her big eyes.
"Well, have a nice walk then." He replied and returned a smile to Charlotte.
Nodding and continuing on the trail Charlotte wondered what and where they would be going today. She kept her eyes down until she came to the barely noticeable fork that led to the safe house. Walking inside she tried to find her group and figure out what was going on.

With a gloved fist, Miguel raps on the wrought-iron door in a series of distinct knocks: four rapid, two slow and one heavy. There are a few awkward moments as he can hear the faint sound of someone tinkering with a metal lock from the other side. Finally, the door opens slightly. "Who goes there?" An old voice calls out. "MC," Miguel responds in a hushed tone. There is a light-hearted chuckle before the door swings open, flooding the tunnel with light and forcing Miguel to squint his eyes against the abrupt brightness.

An elderly man of about 70 summers greets him with a wide, toothless grin of reassurance. Thin white wisps of hair hardly cover his weathered scalp. His frail skeleton is clearly visible through his old, leathery skin. His blue eyes glow with a thousand stories of action and adventure. This man is just one of the many look-outs throughout the Safe Zone. He spends most of his time carving wood in his shop, making little statues and painting them. It makes him joyful inside and provides an escape from the raw, unforgiving world outside.

"You've been gone for quite some time, friend. Come in," the elderly man waves Miguel through with a bony hand. They are huddled in a small storage room. Two florescent shop lights extending across the low ceiling provide illumination. The walls are solid concrete, the floor is dirt. The air is cold and clammy.

"I ran into some trouble," Miguel says, half-crouching as he enters the cramped space. The old man shuts the door behind him and secures its lock while grumbling under his breath at the mention of trouble, as though well used to it. Then, he leads Miguel upward through an uneven staircase to another door. Beyond here is the elderly man's wood-carving shop. They both enter quietly.

This room is much larger and far more comfortable to stand in. The air is warm and reeks of wood. A single light hangs over a round, wooden table and a folding chair positioned roughly in the center of the room. There is a lively fire roaring and crackling in a massive stone fireplace set into the wall to his right. A fine display of knives, axes and machetes hangs on the wall to his left. "Come," The elderly man tugs at Miguel's sleeve, offering for him to sit. "I will pour you some tea." Miguel politely dismisses the offer, "I have somewhere I need to be, Jownz." He gently rests a hand on his shoulder, "Perhaps another time, yes?" The elderly man - Jownz - nods and smiles in agreement before leading Miguel to the front door.

The rickety, wooden floor creaks beneath their feet as they move across the room. Jownz fidgets with a lock on the door before finally pulling it ajar. The bright morning light pours in along with the crisp, cool air from outside. Miguel pauses to retrieve something from his coat pocket. He holds it up for Jownz to see: a red Swiss Army folding knife. The elderly man's eyes gleam with excitement. "I found it, sitting on the countertop in coffee shop," Miguel chimes as he flips the blade open to show its fairly good condition. Then, he closes it again and hands it to Jownz, "Happy early birthday." The old man takes the knife with a wide grin and lightly pats Miguel on the arm. Miguel returns the gesture with a pat on the old man's back, then exits through the door, stepping into the street outside. "Be safe," Jownz calls after him before quietly shutting the door and locking it.

With a refreshing sigh, Miguel takes in a deep breath of cool air and turns his footsteps east, toward his destination: the safe house.

The Shanty smelled, and that made Lee laugh, not because it smelled but because of all the things he could have noticed, the bent nail in his 2X4, the dirty shell in his shorty, or the miniscule crack in his gas mask, but the smell was what he noticed. What did it smell of Lee wondered, Mold? Blood? Desperation? Probably a combination of these. He sat on an ancient looking table and wondered if that Hunter marksman managed to escape, he was a great shooter but, as is the case with everybody else, ammo was scarce. Lee loved melee, it was the original way to do combat, up close and personal. Of course a sawed off never hurt…Lee stopped himself, of course sawed off shotguns hurt people but they were handy.
Lee pulled himself from his train of thought, his sawed off needed some cleaning. He looked around; the others looked scared, why? He had no idea. Lee threw his Shorty in his bag. Group 47 was nice enough, but not many people had time for a 15 year old brawler, even if he could patch up some nasty wounds with limited supplies. He made his way over to Terrence’s place, Lee would ask what’s going on even though he probably wouldn’t get a straight answer, he never did and it was probably because of his age, but Lee needed something to do, he’s been cleaning his gear to long and it was starting to shine. Lee crawled through the window and hauled ass to the safe house. He wasn’t about to get bored again. Or lonely, he needed a new comrade after his friends walked into that fat bastard, he smelled too...

Several miles outside of the quarantine zone Dimitri was having a rather rough time trying to get back to safety. While he had managed to find an old pick up truck that looked like it would run for at least a little while if supplied with the right parts, it was the actual acquisition of the parts that was the problem. "Oh come on not again. All I need is ONE." Dimitri spat as he examined a rotten car battery from the seventh car he'd checked. It was pretty obvious things weren't going well for the smuggler, he was still short a car battery, a solenoid, a distributer cap, a rotor, and spark plug wires , not to mention he'd need a car jack and various other tools to put in the parts needed, like the tools that had been on the truck he was in earlier for example.
"Its like the universe just loves to toy with me or something...." Dimitri hissed to himself as he dropped the battery and pulled off his leather jacket before tying its' sleeves around it waist. The jacket did wonders for preventing clicker bites, but damn was it hot to wear the thing all day while working in the sun. The smuggler nudged the battery with his boot and let out a heavy sigh, then pulled out a near empty pack of jazz black and milds along with the gold Jack Daniel's zippo lighter he'd gotten from his father when he'd turned seventeen. Dimitri sat on the hood of a broken down Subaru and lit the tobacco stick, savoring the taste as he took a deep drag, 'Lotta' people would probably kill for a smoke these days' he internally mused as he blew out a plume of thick smelling smoke and examined the lighter in the sunlight, its outer casing having lost its reflective, almost mirror like sheen long ago and instead having been covered with smears and scratches. It was fitting really, like some sort of symbolism for Dimitri himself; once pristine and useful only when needed, now having lost its luster but filling a greater purpose than ever before.
Dimitri shook his head, no point in stopping to ponder about symbolism, it would be dark eventually, and he'd be damned if he spent a night out in unfamiliar territory again if he could help it. The smuggler stood and exhaled another plume of smoke, then continued searching for anything that would get him out of this hellhole.

*Notice for all survivors outside the QZ*
The infected have been harassed by a recent attack. Be careful and check you corners. Stalkers will be in the area.
*End of Notice*

Terrance first saw Roxy enter the safe house with a curious look and moments after Charlotte stepped in. He glanced down at his watch as he rested on the ruined couch. He turned his head to look at the map. He was slightly worried why only Charlotte and Roxy were in the safe house.
He turned his attention to the two girls, "good to see you. Doing well I hope. Where is Goblin and Miguel? We have a large shipment today." He stood and walked over to each of the girls shaking their hands in courtesy.
"We have to cross the river. We need to get supplies to the Airport," he turned to face the map, "Uh... *he points to the tunnel* we can take this route but last time the military checked it was infested by the infected. It wouldn't be to hard to be quiet around them but our bags will be noisy. Speaking of bags," Terrance turned to the box and grabbed two of the labeled bags, "Uh... Roxy... you got the supplements... and Charlotte you have... the 9mm," he set the bags at the girls feet and turned back to the map, "if we go the long way... the most we'll have to deal with are bandits and military patrols. If we keep quiet and keep moving we should be there in a couple of days... the last way is through the other tunnel... it'll probably be full of infected." Terrance took a deep breath and released after that mouthful of words.
"Hey Charlotte! Roxy! How have you two been," Andy asked walking into the room.

*LOUD SPEAKER*
Attention, there are no more rations available for today. We have just lost another shipment from up north. Return to your homes to prevent any harm towards you and or any loved ones.
*LOUD SPEAKER CRACKS AND GOES DARK*

"Great..." Terrance said as he looked up towards the sound the checked his watch, "this complicates things a bit... we'll wait for a few more minutes... if Miguel or Goblin don't get here... Andy you are coming."
"Yes! I've been waiting for so long! I won't let you down," Andy said more than excited.
"I said if they don't show..." Terrance spoke almost fatherly to the teen.

There are a few things one learns when they spend most of their lives outside of the safe walls of a quarantine zone. One of those things was to always trust your senses, like your senses of smell and hearing for example. And right now Dimitri's nose was telling him there was a fire somewhere west of him, not very far off if the thick clouds of smoke rising towards the sky were any indication, and his ears told him that the infected were starting to get riled up. Already Dimitri could hear clickers becoming more agitated from within the dilapidated buildings around him, but it wasn't the clickers that worried Dimitri, clickers may have had good hearing, but chucking a rock or brick at a window did wonders to get them off your trail. The sounds that truly sent chills up his spine, were the ever so distinctive croaks that could only come from a stalker. "Fuck me running..." Dimitri hissed under his breath as he spat out his cigarillo and ground it under his boot. Of all the infected, there where only two types that caused him genuine concern: stalkers and bloaters, but the latter was at least blind and slow, no such luck would be found with the former. Dimitri drew his revolver and picked up the pace hoping to find a tunnel way into the QZ, though he made sure not to move too quickly, he needed to be able to see everything clearly, one missed detail now more than ever would mean the difference between life and death.

Roxy barely acknowledge her package of supplements. Her attention was on the fact that some of there team apparently hadnt made it back. Roxy hated losing people. She hoped they had found a place to hold up. They were smart and resourceful so she wasn't going to count them out of the game yet. A trip to the airport wasn't going to be easy and they were going to need as many people as they could get. "I haven't seen anyone but the two of you. I'm sure they find home."

As Charlotte walked in her eyes immediately fell on two members of her team. Greeting the two of them Charlotte nodded politely and began listening intently to Terrance's report. The airport? She wondered. What would they want with all of this stuff there? Though she questioned it she didn't voice anything, she has learned long ago to just keep her curiosities to herself. Picking up the box of ammo she frowned at the clinking noises of ammunition metal bouncing off each other inside their container. Charlotte shook the box again and sighed as it echoed her actions with more obnoxious noise. Her ears perked up as the speakers blared their message. She shot a nervous glance at her team members but looked away quickly. In response to Roxy she just nodded. [i]"Yeah, they'll make it back. They haven't disappointed us yet."[i] And as she said this she hoped this wouldn't be the first.

Lee stood in the room a bit surprised that he wasn’t seen. Airport, No Rations, and now people are missing; no wonder people are a little on edge. Lee watched the deliveries being thrown around; shells and supplements…perfect supplies for a group of fighters. The though worried Lee as the only thing worse than infected, which charged, stalked, and threw crap, were men with guns, at least the infected were predictable.
Lee decided to stay hidden as long as possible, if he was spotted it was on them for not noticing him so he didn’t fear that scenario. Maybe if the others didn’t show he could go look for them, not that he wished something bad had happened, but it would be nice to get out and do something, maybe even crack a few skulls. “Stop with the violent thoughts” Lee told himself, he knew looking for a fight would get him killed. He watched the people, Terrence had handed deliveries to a woman with knives, and a woman with a pearl ring, he either hadn’t met any of them or he had and didn’t remember, he hoped he just hadn’t met them. Lee began wondering about the two missing men, he caught the names Goblin and Miguel, but didn’t recognize any of the names. Lee thought about it, who did he know? He drew a blank, even the guys he used to run with were not very memorable, or maybe he just can’t spend time knowing people that might die tomorrow.

Roxy didn't understand why Terrance wanted to keep Adam out of the action, but it wasn't her call to make. The only thing she had to worry about was getting the supplies to the airport and making sure as many of her team survived as possible. Roxy looked around the room. Someone was watching them. She wondered who it was and why they stay hidden. Could be another teen curious about what was happening and eager to get away from the safe house. Roxy couldn't say she blamed them she would be bored out of her mind if she had to stay here and do nothing but wait. Roxy decided not to mention her suspicion to the others.

A few narrow side-streets lead Miguel to an alleyway filled with a haphazard maze of cardboard boxes and wooden crates. There is an odd, but comforting silence here. Only a faint breeze stirs up the warm air - which smells of sawdust - as it blows through from the east.

Miguel keeps to the shade of an overhang as he quietly moves along the alleyway. His body twists and turns to navigate around the stacks of crates. The cobblestones beneath his feet are slick with grime, evidence that suggests not many people have tread along this particular route lately.

Finally, Miguel arrives at an old metal door. Its surface is weathered and scratched. There is a small panel set at eye level. A quick glance over his shoulder confirms that he's alone. With his right fist, he pounds on the door in a series of distinct knocks: four rapid, three slow and one heavy. The panel slides open and a pair of dark eyes peer out. "Who goes there?" Miguel steps back, moving into the morning sunshine to reveal himself. "MC," he responds. There is a moment of awkward silence before the panel slides shut. The door opens with a grinding sound. Miguel cringes, "Somebody needs to oil that damn thing." He steps through, into the building. "Tell me about it," the lookout responds as he shuts the door behind them and locks it. Miguel heads up a flight of stairs and through a short hallway to a wooden door. He quietly enters and joins his group. "I'm here," he says.

Lee'd had enough, the silence was killing him. He stepped out of his little corner of the room and Asked, Rather loudly

“If it’s not too much trouble, could I come with one of you?” he awaited a response, he hoped to god one of them needed another set of eyes,

“I heard all the details, and I can stay quiet if I need to” Lee figured that if he gave them a reason to doubt him, they’d disregard him in a heartbeat. Lee suddenly felt something strange, he felt uncertain, and why had he left his hiding hole? If they were upset, any one of them could kill him without much trouble, or mess, or noise, uncertainty became fear, what a stupid move he had made.

“Umm…Please don’t kill me” He added

"No one is going to kill you little one. I'm not sure about being quiet. I know you were there. You'll have to work on that if your coming with us. What can you do?" Roxy asked as she studied the teen. He was a little young to be going on missions, but she hadn't been all that much older when she took up smuggling. Slowly Roxy walked toward the Lee one of her knives in hand. She wanted to see how he would react. Would he run or hold ground.

Was this girl serious? Nobody was going to kill me she said as she approached with a blade drawn. Somebody needed to deal with this girl. At this moment, Fear became excitement, finally, after so long without any danger outside of not getting enough to eat, a fight.

“Excuse me, what do you mean little one? You’re not that big yourself” Lee said, he was ready for a fight.

Lee studied the situation and drew his 2X4; He wasn’t sure if the others would fight Lee so he only focused on the girl, still keeping an eye on the others. One blade and an unknown combatant, the blade was about 10 inches, one of the smaller ones she was carrying but more than big enough to cause serious and possibly fatal injuries, she would more than likely aim for the neck or somewhere near his heart, Lee accounted for this by standing sideways to make himself smaller, keeping both hands on the weapon that he angled at 45 degrees to allow him to match the speed of the girl if he needed to, he didn’t know how skilled the girl was with the knife so he waited for her to make the first move. He didn’t want to wait, but he didn’t want to lose the fight.

“well blade girl, your move” Lee said, with a slight grin on his face. He wasn't sure about the girl, but at least she had saved him from boredom.

Charlotte's head jerked to the corner where a younger boy stood in the corner. Come with us? She looked him up and down judging his wits, his wilderness survival skills, and his ability to even make it out there. She chuckled slightly under her breath as Roxy approached the boy with one of her many treasured blades drawn. Charlotte saw his glance at all of her knives, he was sweating, no doubt, but he hadn't run away yet which had to mean something. The two seemed to have stare-off before the boy spoke. Roxy didn't budge and neither did anyone else in the group. [i]"Well, I don't see why not? Are you good any anything in particular? Like, aiming, running, staying quiet, carrying all my stuff?"[i] Charlotte smiled slightly and looked to Terrance for his answer, her eyebrow slightly raised in a questioning manor.

Roxy grinned as she stopped out of the reach of the boys 2x4. "I might not be big but I get the job done. You don't think this little knife is the only one I got do you? You 2x4 is an interesting choice of weapon. You didn't answer my question can you do anything besides looking cute?"

Roxy twirled her knife and curled the boy. Staying out of his reach. She liked that he hadnt run off. The might be hope for him if he could do more the just carry a board around. He was prepared for an attack. Shot the kid looked like he was hoping for one. But she wasn't going to attack him. He would do no good to them injuried.