Madeline.<br/><br/>Mira felt the weight of the cool-to-the-touch bar that has a curve at its end, and with its other end it was slightly bent as an extra part for prying. Fissures were at both ends for pulling off nails. She could feel power. A titanium weapon made for prying open containers, stuck doors, and if she deliver blows well enough, bust locks. Three people have weapons, but what about Madeline?<span style="font-style: italic">Maybe I can find one for her? Hammers, metal bats, chainsaws, machetes, pans, an axe, a club, golf sticks ... not sure where I can find any of those yet, though.</span><br/><br/>Mira left the thought and walks to the gates. There is a cemetery by some distance of, in Mira's calculations, ten cars placed side by side, in front of her - all of the graveyards dug up by the infected dead themselves, leaving empty pits and ruffled dirt everywhere. However, some<span style="font-style: italic">were</span>left undisturbed.<span style="font-style: italic">The deaths of these - to die before this 'epidemic.' Perhaps, if the afterlife were to be true, looking down from 'heaven,' they are to be grateful, yes?</span>As thoughtful as Mira was, she also wondered if Heaveners were able to look down from the sky at the suffering of others as well.<span style="font-style: italic">But perhaps they're merely off to bask in the wealthy crystal rivers, to feast on fruitful trees, and to prance around on the lush, harlequin, mint, and teal green lands. A beautiful sight ... lightweight souls, away from suffrage forever.</span><br/><br/>Mira cuts back to reality. She tries to remember - killing zombies. Through the sockets, or the side of the head. Maybe between the eyes also work? And there's also the very top of the head, and underneath the chin.<span style="font-style: italic">Snapping their necks may be easier, but of course, they'll still be alive and biting.</span>Mira, based on what she remembers, that one on one is rare, and if she were to face a crowd, yeah, she'll have to muster her energy to heave powerful swings that'll knock their limbs off, but definitely fleeing when she gets a chance in such a scenario.<span style="font-style: italic">It takes 15lbs per square inch to put a hole in a human skull, and I got a 45 pound crowbar ...</span><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #FFBFFF">Gotta kill the brain too, right? </span></span><br/><br/>Mira opens the gate by first unbolting the large, heavy black bolt from its holds. It was a meter long. She takes only a small care to not make too much noise. Thankfully, the gates still don't creak at all and the bolt has always slid out with making barely any noise from the time the group came here to now. She opens the gate, then leaves the black and cold doors closed, assuming that perhaps one of the girls will lock it for her, or at least tie a chain through the holds instead of using the heavy bolt. She scouts around the block. Nothing. She strolls a little further on the road where it leads to the park the girls had once passed by. Really, the only thing she could think of was the water fountain. Regardless, trying to be aware of her harshness to herself and trying to relax, she continues on as she lastly reminds herself to get back to the hideout soon. She gives the idea that a zombie could be crawling it's upper half towards her anytime now to get herself a move on.