<strong>May 24 (Day 2), 2012 - 8:47 a.m. - Luna Amano's Apartment, New Angeles</strong><br/><br/>Who knew that a flu could save someone's life?<br/><br/><strong>"Ugh . . Marcus, I told you, I'm still sick . . "</strong><br/><br/>For the better part of a week now, Luna Amano had been missing from work, due to being stuck in bed with a rather rough flu. She just knew when that caucasian banger started coughing all over the place last week, that he'd end up getting her sick! Some thank you for tuning his crappy Honda's engine.<br/><br/>Even since then she'd been getting harassed by her boss Marcus every few hours. Marcus was a rough sort of guy, and ran the busiest chop shop on his side of New Angeles. It was he who gave her a chance even though she was a kid, and taught her the ins and outs of machines. The only things he demanded were punctuality and perfection . . so her being out with the flu for so long was really aggrevating the poor guy!<br/><br/>After a short bout of coughing, the exhausted asian laid her head back on her pillow and sighed into the phone.<strong>"Listen man, if you'll just let me SLEEP for more than a few hours in a row, I'll get better faster right? Goodnight."</strong>With a toss of the phone onto the tv-tray that acted as her nightstand, she settled back down for more sleep, ignoring the angry sounds coming from her phone.<br/><br/><br/><strong>May 27 (Day 5), 2012 - 1:00 a.m. - Luna Amano's Apartment, New Angeles.</strong><br/><br/>Luna was really starting to feel better! All this bedrest, and drinking down the orange juice and water she'd bought when she started getting sick, was certainly helping things along. Best of all, her boss had finally listened to her and stopped bothering her on the phone! Of course, this also led to a bit of boredom while she was awake, but she had plenty of books to keep her from dying of boredom. She'd have to go scavenge herself a TV one of these days . . .<br/><br/>When she was next interrupted, it was from a knock on her door and the sound of loud chattering. Shrugging a clean robe onto her body, she shuffled her way over to the door and opened it. She, of course, left the security chain on . . . she didn't live in that great of a neighborhood after all! Looking back at her through the crack in the door was one of her neighbors, a John . . something or other. She really couldn't remember his name.<br/><br/><strong>"Yo! Luna, get your clothes on and come with us downtown. Shit is getting CRAZY down there."</strong>John looked particularly excited, though Luna was not impressed.<br/><br/><strong>"What the hell are you talking about?"</strong><br/><br/>The man looked at Luna like she'd grown a second head!<strong>"Jesus, haven't you heard? They called in the army because people are getting sick from a weird disease! Last I heard, people were marching on City Hall, and then lots of people started looting and rioting. Me and the others are gonna head over to northside and grab everything we can, while the police and army are busy with the other riots. You in?"</strong><br/><br/>Luna groaned, palming her face.<strong>"You want me to go rob stores and shit, while the army and police are all up in arms, and a weird disease is getting people sick? I'm only just barely getting over my flu I got last week . . listen, just go do what you want. I gotta go meet Marcus later anyways, so I'm gonna nap a bit more."</strong><br/><br/>John just shrugged, turning to move out with the rest of the small mob from her apartment complex.<strong>"Fine, suit yourself girl. Just don't complain when you see me walkin' back here with some new rolexes and a tv! Ha ha ha!" </strong><br/><br/>Shutting the door and locking it, Luna went to make herself a VERY early breakfast, rolling her eyes at the sounds of the other residents cheering and hollaring. So damned immature!<br/><br/><br/><strong>May 27 (Day 5), 2012 - 2:14 p.m. - M's Auto and Scrap, New Angeles.</strong><br/><br/>Man, the city looked like hell! As Luna had left her apartment, she could see smoke rising from several parts of the city, some a little too close for comfort. There were smashed car and shop windows, spilt trashcans . . clearly things had not gone well after the riots. She'd tried to call Marcus this morning, but couldn't get ahold of him, so she decided to risk the riots and police and walk over to his shop. Besides, in a neighborhood like this, their shop would be some place that WASN'T closed down due to the less-than-reputable elements.<br/><br/>The japanese-american mechanic, toolbelt on her waist and messenger bag over her shoulder, cautiously entered the front door of the shop once she found that it was open wide. The inside was a wreck, with spare parts and tools scattered all over the place. She found it hard to believe that some rioters could have taken down Marcus and his boys, especially considering the firearms that they had. When she crossed into the actual scrap yard however, she soon learned what had happened.<br/><br/>There were bodies here. Rather brutally injured bodies, at that. Some had obvious gunshot wounds, some had their skulls cracked open, and others were torn to pieces. The stench alone caused Luna to clamp a hand over her mouth and recoil. She would've fled right then in there, if she hadn't heard the scream and gunshots from deeper in the yard. Picking up a piece of scrap pipe, she rushed deeper into the yard, to find find a whole crowd of what looked like ravening lunatics surrounding her soon-to-be former employer. The gun had been torn away from him, along with his hand, and he had been shoved to the ground. Before the worst happened, his eyes widened in shock at the site of Luna.<br/><br/><strong>"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, KID!"</strong><br/><br/>The scream was the last thing he ever spoke, as the monstrous people began to tear him limb from limb. When two turned their heads to look in her direction, the girl turned right around and ran as far away from the yard as possible, tears stinging her eyes. This was NOT RIGHT!<br/><br/><br/><strong>June 1 (Day 10), Mall, Downtown New Angeles.</strong><br/><br/>It was official. New Angeles was now hell on Earth. Ever since she'd fled Marcus' old shop, things had progressively gotten worse and worse. She had initially fled back to her apartment complex to hide out and pack up some things for quick travel, if it was necessary. A little ingenuity (and some things she 'borrowed' over the last year or two from various places) let her properly pad her messenger bag, so when she put her small supply of tools, nails, and the like inside it wouldn't make as much noise and give her away.<br/><br/>Before she could gather up her food, she noticed outside her window that more of those . . things were starting to show up in her neighborhood. She might have been caught by the zombies, if a family from another apartment complex hadn't started running and screaming, giving her a chance to slip away into the alleyways. Life for her had become nothing but hiding and waiting for calm moments to sneak to another place, searching for a safe area.<br/><br/>When the gangs had started to take violent control of areas, she'd contemplated joining one and risking her body. That ended fast when she noticed how swarms of the undead tended to swoop in wherever bangers started firing off their weapons and driving through. She spent a day moving to the edge of the city, only to see the army keeping everyone trapped in side . . with lethal force. Now she was forced to move back into the city to search for a safe place to hide . . .<br/><br/>By the start of June she had been forced to flee into the Downtown area just due to the way the packs of zombies had ended up moving and chasing other survivors down. Luna was definately not happy about being in the belly of the beast, but figured it also meant she had a better chance of finding supplies. Stumbling upon the mall, she'd found a way to quietly slip through the parking garage and begin creeping about to try and find things she could scavenge for weapons or food.<br/><br/>She was down to her trusty wrench as her only really effective weapon, and she ran out of food a good twelve hours ago. Her earlier clothing had gotten more than a little damaged and soiled from blood and other less-than-pleasant things in all her slinking about, so she'd changed into something more for mobility. The softest sneakers she could find with decent grip, a pair of hip-hugging shorts, a slightly-too-big tank top, and a yellow and white striped hoodie. It didn't afford much in the way of protection, but it didn't weigh her down and let her take advantage of her natural flexibility and speed a good deal more.