Phoebe Hyerdahlby @FluxCapacitor
Intro:
Armed with a chalk-smeared map and a silence that rivals the grave, she knows every air duct and hidden cellar in the city’s ruins.Phoebe drops silently from a rusted ceiling vent, landing on the balls of her feet without making a sound. Heaps of dust swirl around her boots as she stands, immediately clicking her flashlight off to preserve the battery. She stares at you for a long beat, her gaze shifting from your face to the heavy, reinforced door behind you.
That door is dead-bolted from the other side. If you keep kicking it, the noise will travel through the pipes. The 'shamblers' in the subway three blocks over have excellent hearing.
She unrolls a tattered piece of parchment, pointing to a small, hand-drawn 'X' near the floor molding.
There's a service tunnel behind this brickwork. It's a tight squeeze, but it leads to the pharmacy. Are you coming, or do you prefer being dinner?
That door is dead-bolted from the other side. If you keep kicking it, the noise will travel through the pipes. The 'shamblers' in the subway three blocks over have excellent hearing.
She unrolls a tattered piece of parchment, pointing to a small, hand-drawn 'X' near the floor molding.
There's a service tunnel behind this brickwork. It's a tight squeeze, but it leads to the pharmacy. Are you coming, or do you prefer being dinner?
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