Too big. Too small. Too isolated. Too consolidated. Too much rubble. Too pristine. Goldie Locks would have lost her mind. There was no place that would be “just right.” Of course that couldn’t be the goal when looking for shelter. The most adequate was not always synonymous with just right. The time for being picky had long past but at least there were still a variety of choices. The goal was to find a place that would offer the best protection for the longest amount of time.<br/><br/>Out in the open wasn’t an option. Sure, you could see the scary shit before it got to you, but what would be the point if you had nowhere to run? If you found a place too big then anything and anybody could potentially take up residence with you without your knowledge. Get a place too small and you’d trap yourself. A building by itself was akin to being out in the open; you needed to be able to run and change positions quickly. The flip side was too many buildings too close together. There would be no way to secure all the potential blind-spots. A place that was too run down wouldn’t provide acceptable cover and a place that wasn’t a complete shit-hole (as if that were the case) would immediately be a target. A sign outside saying “Come Get Me” would have been less obvious.<br/><br/>Then came the<i>minor</i>details : was there a water source nearby, could the area be scavenged, who or what was in the vicinity. A false move could lead to the end of your life. And wrong decisions were easy to make, especially if you were tired.<br/><br/>Fatigue bared down on Psy’s eyelids. She surveyed her options for almost an hour before succumbing to her body’s demands. She’d been walking for miles despite her best efforts to curb her need to sleep. Eventually she couldn’t continue. It was either pass out on what used to be a major highway or at least attempt to conceal herself in one of the abandoned buildings. She was tired, not stupid.<br/><br/>Her head rolled from being upright until her chin was tucked into her chest but didn’t awake. Then she felt the slight rumble underneath her feet and her eyes snapped open. The movement was slightly – barely noticeable but in a place she assumed was otherwise unoccupied, it felt like a herd of buffalo (if they still existed). There wasn’t just the feel of the earth tremble slightly under her feet. It was also the sound of something crashing.<br/><br/>Psy got to her feet quickly, pulling her knife out of her boot. She crept toward the opening in the wall across for her and peeked out. She saw the back of a figure less than a football field away and tightened her grip on the knife.