Helena walked for a few blocks down the center of the street, not really bothering to shield her activities at all. For whatever reason, infected didn't seem to have an appetite for their own kind, and as for survivors...well, she<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>hungry, but enough of a conscience still remained that part of her hoped that any survivors in the area would notice and stay clear of her.<br/><br/>Purely by reaction, she fell to her knees at the sound of a massive crash about three blocks away. It was unlikely that any of the "hungry" would have caused something so conspicuous, which meant that food--er, survivors, were on the move. She fumbled for her radio for a moment before clasping it tightly and nearly shoving it into her own muzzle.<br/><br/>"Hello?! I just heard...something, an explosion I think...is there anyone there? Are you alright?!"<br/><br/>She broke into a run, but stopped short after only covering one block. She watched in horror as a group of about six hungry ones (stage threes, at first glance) dashed at full-speed into the distance. They were heading for the site of the explosion...for the site of her potential "research subjects." Making a quick decision, Helena turned the corner and ran down a parallel street, thinking that she might be able to head them off as they make an escape, all the while keeping her radio in-hand and at the ready, just in case anybody responded to her calls.