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Misha tightened her grip around her knees, sobbing gently as the sun slowly came through the dilapidated, filthy windows of her temporary shelter. It had been a long night, and she had ended up crying through it. That's what usually happened, though she never knew why she cried...

Rubbing his bloodshot eyes, Shawn walked down the stairs, a low rumbling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't eaten in days, but always made sure the others ate before he did. It was his duty as a leader. Hopping onto his motorcycle as he slammed a button, he roared out of the base as the gate slammed shut behind him.

Scanning the barren landscape with sore eyes, he could've sworn he heard the sound of crying coming from a dilapidated old building. Parking his bike outside, he slowly opened the door, gun raised, and walked inside. As he sweeped through the room, he suddenly became aware of a presence watching him. Looking up through the floorboards of the next level, he saw a pair of eyes dart away from a hole. "Hey! Who are you?" he shouted as he rushed up the stairs. Suddenly, the soft, rotting wood beneath his feet gave out, shattering with a thundering crack. "OHH, SHIITTT!!!" he screamed as he plummeted 4 stories, smashing the loose floorboards until he smacked into the concrete basement floor. As a cool darkness glazed over his blurring vision, all he could think of was who the mystery person was.

Misha stood up when she heard a crack below her, looking down. She only saw the floor beneath her, and she sighed in relief, though she could only help and worry about what had caused the noise. She slowly walked through the room, taking a new route every time she heard the floor creak under her weight. When she reached the stairs, she gaped at a massive hole in her way. Someone had tried to come up-or, even worse, down. She creeped towards the hole, peering over the edge. The drop, if she fell, was long-about fourty feet-and at the bottom of the hole was a person. While their features were hard to see from the distance, they looked sickeningly familliar.. She stood up, backing away from the hole-the only way to make it across was if she took a running jump. Taking a deep breath, she ran forward, leaping over the edge as the floor gave way under her, then rolling down the remainder of the stairs, much of them collapsing. She waited a short while before standing up again, glad she was still alive. She then began running again, making her way to the basement.

Sitting up & panting, Shawn struggled to his feet as his blurry vision caused the world to spin dizzyingly. Gripping a wall to keep himself up, he reached to his head & pulled back a hand soaked in bright red blood. Feeling around, he soon located the wound, a nasty gash splitting his messy brown hair. Drawing his pistol as a scuffling sound approached him, he slumped against the wall & readied his pistol, making the sight as steady as he could. Looping his finger into the trigger catch, he sat & waited, like the patient hunter stalking its prey.

The dark was not welcoming to her, and the only reason she had bothered coming down was because of how familliar the person seemed. Her face was still soaked in tears, and meeting someone in this condition was not preferable. As she entered the basement, she quickly wiped her face dry, then began looking through the darkness to see where the person was, though all she saw was black.

Watching through the black as the scuffling got closer, Shawn lifted his gun, but ultimately found himself too weak to hold it. As the weapon clattered to the ground, it discharged, lighting up the dark room momentarily. What he noticed was the girl he had met yesterday, Misha, walking down the stairs towards him. What he didn't see was the mutant stepping in through the now-open door beside him, lumbering towards its helpless victim.

Misha flinched when the discharged on the floor, illuminating the room for an instant. In that instant, she caught a glimpse of the person who had fallen through the floor. It was Shawn. That wasn't quite expected. Though she was able to relax a microscopic amount.

Attempting to stand up, Shawn felt a sharp pain in his abdomen as the mutant sank its fist into his gut. Toppling to the ground & scrambling for his pistol, he kicked out, nailing the disfigured man under the chin. Unable to find his pistol in the dark, he pulled his shotgun off his back & squeezed the triggers, unloading both barrels into the creature's chest. As the mutant flew back, its chest a caved-in ruin, he ejected the smoking casings from the barrel & slid 2 new shells into the gun with trembling hands. Dropping the shotgun, he looked to the stairs where Misha stood in the doorway, her shadowy form slightly darker than the darkness that enveloped him like a blanket. Leaning his head back, he sighed & chuckled softly to himself, saying, "That...Was close."

Misha yelped when the mutant had attacked, but didn't have time to react before it was killed. She walked quickly into the room, picking up the gun on the floor when her foot struck it. "A-are you alright..?" Her voice was quavering and weak, but hopefully loud enough for Shawn to hear. "Yeah," he panted, "Though I could probably use a bandage on this wound." She sat by the boy she had met only yesterday, her knees drawn lightly to her chest. "I'm afraid I have no bandages..." she fidgited akwardly, her eyes adjusting to the dim lighting of the room. She still couldn't see anything, but there were dark outlines where solid objects were, which helped with which direction she had to face to properly talk to Shawn.

"Heh heh...You don't need to bother with trying to face the right way," he said softly, "It's hard enough trying to see in this darkness." Feeling nothing as he jabbed a finger into his arm, he said, "We'll have to find some. I'm pretty sure I'm going into shock. If we were at the base, Owen could fix me up proper, but..." Coughing into the crease of his arm, Shawn felt his abdomen flare in pain as his breaths became slightly shallower.
Misha tensed when he coughed, noticing his breathing become more labored. If she were to leave, then he could possibly die without her knowing. But if she were to stay, then his condition would gradually get worse without him getting any help.

"Take my bike," he panted, "Go up to the Coast Guard base & say you're there for Owen. Tell them Shawn sent you. Follow the road & you can't miss it." Sighing, he closed his eyes & tried to relax as blood continued to pump out of the wound in his head. "One more thing," he said, opening his eyes once again, "Take my shotgun. It's laying right beside me." Gripping the shotgun in his shaking hand, he handed her the weapon, his arm dropping limp as he slumped to the ground, unconcious.

She stiffened, tears welling in her eyes. He was the only person who had ever been nice to her. She laid the pistol on the ground, taking the shotgun. Her vision was blurred with tears, but she just stood up, running out of the room. She would have to hurry if he was to survive. She repeated Shawn's directions in her mind multiple times, making sure not to forget them as she jumped onto the motorcycle, wiping her eyes.