After another five minutes, Kira had all but given up on finding the station again, having determined to herself that she'd simply been hearing things, the imaginary broadcast a figment of an exhausted mind. The redhead sighed, and fiddled around with the dial a little bit more, hearing static, like the sound of a television when the screen is covered in snow. What had she been expecting? None of the radio stations had been sending signals for months upon months now. The power had been needed elsewhere. She must have imagined it; now she simply fiddled with the dial to occupy her agitated mind.

Even in her absent-minded state though, she immediately picked up the change in sound, her mind focusing on it within an instant, and the dial-turning stopped dead. The girl pulled her hand away sharply, as if afraid that she might accidentally turn the knob and lose the signal again, and she lifted the little radio a bit, listening hard. A man was speaking, he sounded like some sort of news announcer. She'd come in at the middle of the broadcast: "-and nearly all power along the north-eastern coast has been shut down. In the central and western United States, much of the power remains in use; currently the groups have been ammassing in several large cities throughout the country, including Boston, Rhose Island, and New Jersey. The number of survirors is as of yet undetermined, but estimates currently are approximately four hundred..."

Kira didn't hear the rest because she was already up and rushing out of the room, smacking her face on the half-closed door in her hurry, and heading out into the living room. She stopped quickly enough that she successfully managed to avoid knocking over any of Havok's bottles, but her nose was bleeding a bit from her close-encounter with the doorway. She didn't even notice though. She was far too excited.

"Dom! Miguel! Wake the fuck up! Sunshine! Get in here! There's other survivors, out west! They're meeting in huge groups!" She was ecstatic, her face alight in a bright, excited grin. She'd been sure just yesterday that she was one of the only people left alive. A few hours ago, she'd been positive that it was just her, and these three guys that she'd found herself mixed up with. But no, there were hundreds. Hundreds of people left alive, groups massing in the cities. This meant there was hope, at least to her. She didn't know what she wanted to do, but she knew she wanted to do something. This was too much of a big deal to just leave alone.

Miguel woke with a start at the sound of Kira shrieking for them to get up. "Wha...what? Ohh..." Miguel wasn't much of a morning person, even on the best of days. And this wasn't one of those days. He rolled over on the couch, knocking his backpack onto the floor.

"Ehh...Others? Good, good." He knew that he probably should be jumping for joy at the prospect of meeting up with other sane people, but he was still too groggy to react properly. He grunted, and sat up, rubbing his face with calloused hands.

Then his nose twitched. He looked at Kira, and smiled slightly, "That's great, amiga. We should celebrate. I smell alcohol," he looked around and noticed the bottles sitting on a table.

"Mmm. I could use a drink," and he reached over and took one, not even caring whether they had actually been brought for his enjoyment. Because they were now. Or at least, one of them.

"So...what's the plan, exactly?" he inquired, after he had taken a large gulp. It burned it's way down his throat, and served to wake him up a bit.

Kira blinked and paused as Havok came running back into the room, saying something about blood. She raised an eyebrow, staring at him as if he were some lunatic who'd just stumbled in off the street, and idly reached up to touch her face. When she pulled her fingers back, sure enough, it proved that the sticky, warm substance she'd only just become aware of was blood above her upper lip. She frowned and swiped at it, rubbing it off on the already-filthy couch. A little more blood wouldn't hurt anything.

She ignored his comments to Miguel, keeping herself calmer now that her initial spasm of excitement had toned itself down a bit. However, she did reach down, grab a bottle of some clear liquid that looked promising, and take a quick drink after removing the lid before Havok could protest. It burned her throat a tiny bit, but she smiled; the warmth felt nice after all the events she'd just lived through. She paused a moment, allowing Havok and Miguel to finish their conversation, and taking another quick drink. Then she nodded and held the small radio out to Havok for him to look at. The station was still tuned right; she'd just shut if off for the moment.

"They're talking about big groups of survivors, they estimated around four-hundred, with more still coming. They're all grouping together in a bunch of cities.. I think he said...uh...Jersey... Rhose Island... someplace else... They've got power and everything. I'm assuming the broadcast is gonna continue throughout most of the day."

Her lips pressed into a tight line, an expression common for her when she was letting her mind wander away from the present, rushing off to think hard about something. "So...what should we do?" Her absent-minded voice mirroring Miguel's question. "...should we go there?" It seemed a bit like a far-fetched idea. After all, they'd said all the power was lost in the eastern regions. How the hell would they even get there?

Miguel leaned back, allowing himself to sink deeper into the confines of the ratty couch. "Eh, You have plenty of booze left, amigo. So keep your pants on, as you Americans say." He sipped his drink, and looked inquisitively at Kira, "Out west? Hmm..."

He considered the idea, and came to a conclusion. He looked back up at the other two, "You know, I think we should do it. Go west. Dios mío, but I'd like to be around sane people again." He grinned at them, "Not that you both aren't sane, but you know, I haven't seen a beautiful chica my age (other than Kira) in a very long time."

He looked down at his hands, feeling suddenly lonely, and then feeling ashamed of the feeling. He grabbed his shotgun and started rubbing it clean with his dirty shirt, just for something to do.

Kira frowned, the logic of Havok's words quickly snuffing out the uncharacteristic excitement that she'd ben alight with just moments before, causing her to pause and think more clearly about things for a moment. She slid down into a sitting position, legs crossed, and took another drink, calming as the warm liquid burned down her throat. He had a point, depressing one as it may be. She hadn't know that radios could play old broadcasts. This new concept made the entire thing seem a lot more risky than it had moments before. She pictured them, showing up in the city, expecting to find masses of survivors, ragged and tattered, but alive. And instead, they'd walk into a city just as desolate and hopeless as this one, save for perhaps a few more corpses than here. She scowled a little bit, tapping her fingers idly on the bottle before her lips pressed into that thin line again.

There could be power there. There could be people there. They'd never know if they stayed here. Besides, even if it did turn out that the city was abandoned, what's the worst that could happen? They'd be caught in another situation no different then their current one. However, at least Kira would know that they'd put some effort out. She had a little spark of hope going now, and she wasn't about to let it simply vanish without nurturing it a bit.

She stood up again, giving her head a little shake and taking another quick drink. "Sorry, Sunshine, but I'm going at least. You can stay here in this apartment if you want. Same to you, Miguel," she continued, glancing over to him for a moment. "But well...you might be wrong. And in case you're wrong, I'm going on ahead. I'll find a car along the way or something." It didn't seem like an incredibly ideal plan to her. She didn't like the thought of losing the only human contact she had right now. However, she wasn't going to stay cooped up here, not now.

Miguel looked up, "Kira, of course I'm going to go with you. You'll need backup," and he smiled. Then he leaned forward to grab his tattered backpack. He rested it on his lap, setting his shotgun beside him on the couch. He made sure that the pack was zipped properly, and then stood up, heaving the pack onto his shoulders. He was pretty much ready to go.

He glanced and Kira, "When are you planning on heading out?" He though that they'd of course need some mode of transportation, but didn't know where they'd actually get something of that sort. Most of the vehicles were too dilapidated to work. And they would need supplies, gasoline...

Kira grinned, clearly rather pleased that the two of them were deciding to tag along with her. Frankly, she hadn't doubted for a moment that they would. She hadn't done much fighting with Miguel yet, but Havok at least didn't seem as if he'd allow a companion to do something like this on their own. However, she had expected a bit more arguing. She was surprised at this, but not for very long; the excitement was evident in their eyes, as well. She knew all three of them would love to find a city full of survivors.

Now, for a plan. She hadn't thought of this part. Plans had never been her strong area; she was much more into being spontaneous with these sorts of things. However, she knew this particular situation warranted some sort of plan, however basic, to lead them along. First thing first. They needed a way to get there.

"We'll have to see if we can find any working cars or anything like that... we can start walking and if we don't find anything, maybe we'll meet up with another group along the way. There aren't a lot of cars left here...and most of them probably don't work..." It was true. For such a huge city, there was a surprisingly low amount of cars, trucks, vans, anything of the sort around here. That was thanks to the evacuation of the city when the wave had been reaching it's worst point. Most people had left in their vehicles, hoping to get as far away as possible, as quickly as possible. "If we have to walk.. well...oh well. The exercise won't kill us. We have food and stuff now. Besides, most of the Infected will be in the cities, and less on the roads. They'll be wherever the most people were. Miguel... I'm sure you don't mind carrying the food and water in your bag." It occured to her then that she and Havok should have gotten some ammo for their ally here. Too late now.

"Just to let you know, I can't drive. If we find a vehicle it'll have to be one of you guys who gets us moving." Now she wished she'd learned when she had the chance. "The broadcaster mentioned a few cities where they're meeting.. Jersey was one. That's not far, right? Wanna head there?" She hadn't spent a lot of time in the States. If this had been Canada, she'd be a lot better off with where to go. She'd just have to trust these guys.

Miguel was silent during their long walk, a bit annoyed that he had been picked to carry the bulk of the supplies on the excuse that he was the only one with a backpack. But he soon got over it; it wouldn't do to start arguing with the only people around who wouldn't kill him on sight. Besides, it really wasn't that much extra weight. The heaviest thing in the pack was Havok's booze, which Miguel suspected would deplete rapidly, once he decided he was thirsty.

"Hold up," Havok said. And Miguel gazed at the spectacle before him. "A barricade," Havok said, and Miguel looked at the structure with interest. It was obviously military, from the professional look to it, and military meant weapons.

Silently, Miguel walked on, looking warily at the scattered bodies, mere skeletons after being exposed to the elements for so long. Creepy, but he had seen worse. His boot knocked against something, sending it skittering across the asphalt. He scrutinized it. A grenade, he realized. Stooping, he quickly scooped it up and pocketed it.

Turning to the other two he spoke in a hushed voice, so as not to attract unwanted attention, "Hey, I just found a grenade. There may be more around, and other things. We could use all the weaponry we can find, for the road ahead."

Then he turned, and started searching the area. Even in death, the military was there to help kick ass by providing useful things that go boom.

Riana:
Riana raised her Dragunov over her shoulder. She took out a piece of cloth from her bag and begun cleaning it. "Stinky zombie like humanoids. Always messing around..." She looked around in the room. They were on the 2nd floor of an abandoned house. Everything around them was nearly destroyed. "At least we have a roof above our heads and some kind of cover." She looked at Ithan. "Get yourself ready, we are going to leave today. We will head t othe city nearby." She walked towards the window and was ready to shoot anything that was moving....

Ithan:
Ithan, silent like always, was working on one of his half finished inventions. When Riana spoke he just looked at her with an innocent look and, nodding, he continued what he was doing. Ithan was working on a strong explosive attached to a remotely controlled car. He sighed and looked outside the window at the sunset. He packed up whatever he took out of his backpack and went near Riana remaining silent and watching the abandoned neighborhood...

It had taken a while, but of course, in the end, the trio had agreed to Kira's idea, and they'd decided to head out to the city, in the hopes of meeting up with the crowds. It was irresponsible, even reckless, she knew that, but it was worth the risk. If there was even a small chance that they could find more people alive than just themselves, she wasn't going to let it slip past.

The majority of the day was spent in silence, each person off in their own thoughts. She spoke once, to wake Havok up from an inconveniently placed nap he'd decided to take, and that was it. They each had their own things to think about right then. Besides, there wasn't a lot that needed to be said. She was quite content with just following along behind Havok. He'd know much better than her where they were supposed to go.

They spent hours. By the time they reached the city limits, the sun was beginning to set. The tall-reaching buildings were gone, to be replaced by smaller suburban houses. This area was nice, at least, nicer than the ruins that tried to call themselves a city, and she found herself a bit more relaxed with the change in setting. Things didn't seem harmed here; they looked almost normal, in fact, like instead of collapsing along with the world, they'd just taken a back seat and watched the chaos from the sidelines. However, she knew that looks didn't mean anything; there were probably plenty of Infected shitfaces inside of these pretty little houses.

After a time, Havok stopped walking, motioning to something ahead. Kira paused, frowning for a moment at the holdup, until she shifted around a bit to see what it was that had made him decide to slow them down. A blockade. Her eyes widened a bit, a grin lighting her features. This was perfect; a blockade meant weapons. Perhaps some sort of vehicle. She saw Miguel pick up something (it looked like a grenade but she only got a short glance), and then immediately headed forward, deciding to take his advice and try and find something for herself. After using that SPAS, her M9 was looking a bit...unappealing. Still...she hoped they wouldn't be stopped here long. She didn't like the thought of doing much traveling at night; she wanted to be out of the city by the time it was dark.

Miguel's eyes had widened. Rigged? He could've...died just moments ago. He grimaced and made a mental note to inspect the next thing he finds carefully before shoving it in a pocket.

He was busy going through a corpse's pockets, finding nothing more than a damp pack of cigarettes, when he heard Havok give a shout. His head snapped up, and he turned toward the sound, gripping the Mossberg tightly. His first thought was that Havok had run into some trouble, a group of infected, for instance. But then his mind registered the words, and he dashed toward the sound of Havok's voice.

...and skidded to a halt, his mouth open in an expression of astonishment, "Dios mío," he breathed, and slowly walked over to stand next to the vehicle. It was amazing. Miguel had never seen such a powerful looking vehicle in person before. The thing was practically a tank on wheels. Suddenly the prospect of getting to New Jersey didn't seem so unattainable after all.

Havok was sitting behind the wheel, and with a barely suppressed grin, Miguel trotted around to the passenger side. He popped the door open and, with a bit of difficulty on account of his heavy backpack, managed to climb up into the seat, resting the pack on his lap. "Meirda," he said quietly, gazing around at the interior of the JLTV.

He looked over at Havok, meaning to ask him if he knew what the thing was called, when he noticed something odd. Havok was just sitting there, staring out the windshield, looking rather like...like someone who has seen something awful. Totally not what Miguel had expected. Miguel turned to look out the windshield, and gave a soft gasp.

Stretching out before the vehicle, along the highway, was what looked like a battlefield. Random junk lay scattered all over the place, and there were bodies. Lots of them. Strewn in various positions of death, often dismembered, all decayed, white bones exposed under their tattered garments. "Dios mío," Miguel whispered.

Kira hadn't been paying very much attention to her two companions for the past few moments as she sifted through the rubble around the blockade, trying to find something decent for herself to use in exhange for her M9. After using the SPAS, her precious little handgun just wasn't working for her anymore. It was too light, too easy to move...far too small. The complete lack of any kickback when compared to the shotgun disturbed her. The lack of any serious damage disturbed her more. Besides, if she could effectively decapitate just by shooting, she'd save the time she had to spend removing the heads by hand later. Much more efficient.

She could hear the others looking around, going through the debris, probably searching for the same sorts of things that she was. She wondered if they were having any more luck than her. She was aware, vaguely, that Havok had mentioned that they needed to be careful, that things may be rigged. She imagined her arm getting blown off by surprise because she'd touched the wrong thing. After considering it for a moment, she realized she ought to be concerned by this. She pushed aside a piece of crumbling cement, knowing that even though she ought to be, she really wasn't. Perhaps her recklessness had gotten a tad out of hand... well, she'd have to pick up one of those self-therapy books in Jersey, she thought with a half-smile tugging at her lips. Yeah, right.

Eventually, her foot nudged at something aside from cement and rubble. A little frown creased her forehead a tad, and she knelt down, trying to see what it was; it was slightly buried. When she saw it though, she grinned, her eyes lighting up. A rifle. Perfect.

She had to drop down onto her stomach to reach it, and even then it took a bit of stretching, because of the awkward positioning. Eventually though, she managed to grip it, and pulled it out, holding it tight as she stood up, as if concerned it might vanish if she loosened up. She took a moment to examine it; of course, she knew nothing of the military, and so couldn't tell anything useful about the weapon. From what little she did know, she judged it to be an M16 or something of the likes. She'd ask Havok. Either way, it was better than her handgun. As she thought it, she almost felt bad, as if she were abandoning an old friend, who'd saved her on many occassions, who she'd been with from the start, and replacing them with a fancier, tougher ally just because she found them. However, she was holding a rifle. She didn't feel bad for long.

Around then is when she heard Havok shout. She tensed for a moment, imagining a group of Infected suddenly crawling out from the crevices in between the houses. However, no such thing. She recognized his words. A ride... a vehicle. Of all the damned lucky breaks. She grinned and ran over, shifting her grip to support the weapon properly. It wasn't the same as the SPAS, and definately different from her M9, but it wasn't hard to get used to the weight. It felt natural to her almost immediately.

When she saw the "wheels", her face blanked, an expression of awe stuck on her features as she slowed down to a walk. This is what they were going to drive? Well...what Havok or Miguel was going to drive. Were they qualified to do that? With this? Though, she supposed that didn't make much difference now.

She pulled herself up into the JLTV, holding the weapon up to show the others, wanting an opinion. "Hey, this is all I could find, what do you guys think...What?" Her voice slowed, her eyebrows raising into a question as she caught their stares, out past the windshield. Her lips pressed into a tight line as she mentally prepared herself, then she glanced over; she felt sick. The scene was a massacre; she hadn't seen such a collection of corpses before this, and it shocked her. Now she understood why this place was so quiet. Everyone seemed to have died at once. That's why the blockade was in ruins. The ones posted here had been slaughtered.

She only looked for a moment, then tore her eyes away and shifted into to sit behind the other two. "Let's get moving, Sunshine. It's gonna be dark soon." Her voice was quiet; she realized she probably sounded heartless, but that wasn't her intention. The longer they just stared, the worse it would be. It was better for all of them if they continued to do something now; heading towards survivors seemed like as good a task as any.

Miguel sat a bit tensely in the seat, listening to the rumbling of the vehicle beneath him. Riding in this massive vehicle was a new experience for him. The only thing he had ever driven was a Chevy pickup. He tried to relax, fiddling with the zipper on his backpack, and sighed quietly.

"Don't look at the cars ... alright?" Havok said, glancing at Miguel and Kira. Then he pressed the gas, and the hulking vehicle lurched forward. They moved slowly at first, but they'd be able to utilize the vehicles full speed once they were in the clear.

Miguel attempted to follow Havok's advice, and stared at his hands, at the shotgun, at the dash of the JLTV, at anything but the sight that they were passing by. There was no need to look, though his imagination supplied him with plenty of images even without him actually seeing it. He remembered seeing Kira holding some kind of automatic rifle, and he twisted a round to get a look at it. "Ah, Muy Bien, it looks dangerous. But what about ammunition? Is the magazine loaded?"