Becca was indeed too involved in her work, for when the pebbles clattered down the rocky slope she only paused in her humming to listen for a moment before she went back to what she was doing. She had just about finished when the voice from behind her jolted her. Her body jerked straight or at least tried to. The motion was stopped when her head collided with the rusted hood of the car. She cursed softly and extracted herself from her situation. Rubbing the back of her head, she turned toward the voice, trying to appear harmless while backing toward where she had left her rifle. She stopped when she noticed where it was now. Licking her lips softly she took in her surroundings. It was not a good set of circumstances she found herself in. She was unarmed, the only cover was the car that she was standing in front of and if she ran for it... well she knew just how accurate that gun was. With a sigh she turned back around, not seeming overly concerned with the man holding her rifle.<br/><br/>She was not trying to show any false bravado, she simply figured, hoped actually, that if he had not shot her in the back by now that he did not intend to. With her back to him he might notice her tense nervously for a moment before relaxing when she did not feel a bullet rip through her. She closed the hood of the car and grabbed the strap of her bag before hopping up on the hood on the car and sitting. She looked up at him and there was surprisingly little fear in her eyes, just open curiosity.<span style="color: indigo"> "Well," </span>She said loud enough to be heard even while she rummaged around in her pack, pulling out a bottle of what appeared to be clean water and a box of Spring Valley Potato Crisps.<span style="color: indigo"> "It seems that you have me at a disadvantage. You have high ground, my weapon, and I have absolutely no good way to hide or escape. Seems a lot of trouble if you just planned on killing me. So that begs the question of what exactly you want." </span><br/><br/>She opened the bottle of water and took a sip, grimacing at the unpleasant warmth of the liquid. Her slender hand slipped into the box of crisps and she ate slowly while she eyed him. She would have to remember to check her radiation level soon. She was starting to feel a little unwell, and that was never a great sign.<span style="color: indigo"> "That's a pretty fancy get up you have there. More than a might intimidating with that mask too. Where did you get all that then? Did you steal it? Not that I'm judging mind you, but it seems odd that someone with all that would need to steal my father's rifle or for that matter even be bothered by little old me. I'd figure that you'd have a pretty fancy weapon to go with that pretty fancy suit. Did you break your gun? If you did, I might be able to fix it for you. I mightn't have the things I need of course but if you would not mind heading into town with me, I could probably get you squared away." </span><br/><br/>Through the whole conversation, or monologue more accurately she had a soft smile on her face as though she were having supper with a close friend, not sitting in the open with a stranger who may or may not be intent on her demise.<span style="color: indigo"> "I am pretty good at fixing things if I do say so myself. Name's Becca, what's yours."</span>She finally stopped talking and stared intently up at the man, still showing her sincere smile.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>