[ The door bearing Abby's name opens to a recurring nightmare: she is staring down a blood-streaked corridor leading to the surgery suites at Saint Mary's Hospital. Red alarm bulbs flash intermittently, the only source of light in the dark. At the end of the hall is the door she will open to find her father's body.

She has lived this before. She relives it almost every night.

Abby turns and books it for the door she came through. On the way back, she grabs a pile of clothes— hers, somehow— from atop a stretcher. She bursts through the door and nearly topples over, trying to pull her pants up even as she runs. She doesn't stop running, as if the memory behind the door were chasing her, until she needs to catch her breath. ]

Fuck! [ She coughs out in a hoarse voice, the first thing she's said since this waking nightmare began. She is doubled over, breathing hard, and oblivious to her surroundings. It's a good way to die, if she hadn't done that already. ]

[ Not much is familiar in a place like this, but looting empty buildings comes second nature to someone who grew up after Outbreak Day. Abby is thorough: cabinets picked through, drawers sifted, closets ransacked. She leaves no stone unturned. If she stays here— and chances are she will, because she's not going back to a place that mirrors her worst memory— she'll pick up later. Maybe. What does it matter, either way?

When footsteps alert her to another intruder, she grabs the nearest heavy object— a lamp with a deceptively heavy base— and brandishes it as the stranger approaches. ] Stay the hell back!

"When you're lost in the darkness, look for the light."

If this means something to you, we should talk.

[ Choose your own adventure! PM this journal for any plotting or other needs. ]