Arianna still lived in the same apartment as Before, it was on the seventh floor, and she'd boarded up the windows and fortified the place quite nicely. Jennifer had contracted the infection three years ago, and Arianna had killed her. When she was still sane, Jen had asked her to, and she had done it as the last and only thing she could do for her friend. It had been quick, peaceful. She had used a vial of morphine she'd stolen. Given too quickly, morphine will slow respiration to a dangerous level. Arianna had administered the drug and then sang Jennifer to sleep, holding her hand until her grip slowly went slack. She'd cried the last of her tears that day.
An empty bag on her back, Arianna made her way down a deserted street. Her blonde hair pulled back from her face, she wore a faded tank top and worn jeans. Her fathers gun at her hip, his knife sheathed opposite that, she walked confidently. She could take whatever came at her. In the light of day, though, the danger was less. That's didn't mean she wouldn't have to fend off any uninfected yet desperate people. She was headed for an arsenal she'd marked out weeks ago, but hadn't yet had the chance to get to. If she was going to try to get to this place everyone whispered about, this "Sedar Creek", she'd need plenty of supplies. New York to California was a long way to go.
Upon arrival, she found that she wouldn't need her wire cutters, someone had already cut their way through the barbed wire. Where they still here? Or was this made earlier and they were already gone? It was a chance Arianna was willing to take. She easily scaled the fence and heaved herself over it, landing on the other side with a quiet thud.