she finds food in abandoned places. supermarkets, restaurants, houses. she stays away from hospitals. there are things there she does not wish to see.

she remembers one day, not long ago, when she was injured, when a flock had almost taken her. she had had to find supplies then, had gone to a hospital.

she had seen dead bodies before. those weren't the ones that disturbed her.

it was the bodies that were still alive. the ones that begged for mercy. the ones that pleaded with her, that cried to be cut open.

she has not returned to a hospital since.

she walks down the ruined road, passing the cracks where lightning has struck so many times before. there is a rifle slung across her back. she has used it before and will use it again. it'll stop one or two of them, but not a whole flock.

not a storm.

she walks with a weariness in her bones. she walks without pausing, without stopping. she walks.

let us follow.