<div class="floatright">(http://imageshack.us/a/img825/6530/affphot01.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Vivian Abasi<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Elizabeth's Volvo of Doom<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Tight-fit blue jeans with a v-necked white blouse<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Elizabeth<br/><br/>It was back to just her and her best friend, not that she minded. Out of the group of strangers it was like having a rock to cling to when next to a raging whirlpool. Someone familiar, someone she could trust, someone who's first -name- she knew. She sat behind the wheel this time. It was not the first time she had driven her friend's car. She settled in place following the car in front of her not -too- closely to give herself time to stop if need be.<br/><br/>Attention glanced out either window, towards the empty seeming buildings and houses that the group of cars passed. She had no idea where they were going, a familiarity with the roads and streets of the town enabled her to get a general idea at least. And she still could not help but wonder if sticking with the group, she felt, was plucked right out of an episode of "Doomsday Preppers" Was still the best idea.<br/><br/>Society was crumbling along with it civilization and with so many proficient combatants in the group what would happen if they turned to prey on the weaker of the group? Elizabeth's words continue to ring in her ears.<br/><br/><em>"... but I'm also afraid if we stay they'll realize they don't need us and will... I don't know.  Something I guess.  Leave us?  Kill us?  Or, you know.  Something else?"</em><br/><br/>A hand slips from the steering wheel, reaching towards the passenger seat slender, dark brown fingers tightly grip the paler hand of her longtime friend, at least -some- comfort to be found there.