<div class="floatleft"> (http://katidamo.wikispaces.com/file/view/Flying+Blind+-+Madelyn.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Madelyn Kovac<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Auditorium; Then to the parking lot.<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Fitted heather gray hoodie hides a 'Phantom of the Opera' T-Shirt. Functional Gray Sneakers peek out beneath her dark blue jeans.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Anyone.<br/><br/>'Five C's of survival...' She thought to herself and went over the items in her mind, straining to remember all of them. 'Number one: Cutting tool.'  She dashed to the backstage workroom and found the crate next a stack of cardboard sheets. It was full of box cutters and she grabbed a half a dozen of them and tossed them in her bag. 'Number two... Combustion Device. Check the sound booth.' She went to the booth and opened the drawer beneath the control panel desk. It contained an ash-tray, three packs of cigarettes, and most important, a Zippo lighter and a bottle of fluid. She wasn't a smoker, but she took the cigarettes too because they might be good for a trade.<br/><br/>Number three was "Cover." Specifically protection from the elements. It might not be necessary in this case, but who knew if they'd end up out in the wilderness. She found the paint stained tarps in the back of the work room and rolled one into a tight bundle to put in her pack. She strained a little harder for the fourth C, but soon remembered it was "Containers." She'd need something in which to boil and/or store water. In the prop room she found just the thing. An aluminum metal millitary-style canteen with a strap. Next to the canteen something else caught her eye. A real hatchet. It was old and not very sharp, but it could still be useful as a weapon and tool in general so she tossed it into her bag.<br/><br/>There was one more C. What was it? She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. 'C...? Cordage!' Scrambling up a ladder, she went into the light booth and pulled a neat coil of nylon rope from out of the loft.  There was a wireless headset hanging from the top of the ladder. As she began to descend she placed her hand on it and nearly fell off as a shock shot through her arm. She thankfully regained her balance without falling and used the rope to push it off the ladder. It gave her an idea.<br/><br/>She took the malfunctioning device and found a tool kit. She proceeded to play with the wiring until she'd transformed it into a crude taser. If it was the end of the world, she'd need all the protection she could get. She closed the vinyl toolbox and stuffed it into her backpack as well. She had a hard time zipping the pack closed, but finally forced it shut. She looked at the clock on the wall and estimated that it had taken her around 40 minutes to get ready. She'd better be off soon.<br/><br/>She set the bag down next to her bicycle and took a few more minutes to test the on/off switch of the 'Taser' she'd just fashioned. It probably wouldn't be that effective, but it might be enough to scare someone off...<strong>"What the fuck am I doing?"</strong>She asked no one in particular as she questioned her sanity at making a weapon out of school property. This whole thing was crazy. Why did she trust Michael, anyway? How could he know any better than anyone else what to do? In this moment of doubt she wondered if she should just go home.<br/><br/>She closed her eyes and had almost made up her mind to let Michael leave without her. That's when the pain started. At first she could barely feel it, but it was there in her mind. Then the screaming started. A disembodied screaming filled the auditorium. Then she realized, she was the one screaming. The pain... it hurt so much.<br/><br/>The vision came to her. She saw it and felt it. A world consumed by fire. A man with dark hair and even darker eyes on a throne. An army of thousands of teenagers carving a path of violence and destruction... How could she feel this much pain and still be alive? Was this what Michael could see and feel? She knew the answer to that question was yes. Then vision cut off like someone pulling the plug on a television set. Though she had been standing before the images had struck her, she was now on the floor, breathless and trembling and aching all over. Tears streamed down her face. It was all true. Her father and brothers were as good as dead and there was nothing she could do for them. But for her, there was hope. Michael was hope. He was here to save her life.<br/><br/>She pulled herself to her feet and caught her reflection in the dressing room mirror. A thin trail of blood marked her cheek from her blue eye. There was no more doubt in her heart when she donned her pack and walked her bicycle across the parking lot to meet Michael and the small group gathering near him.<br/><br/>"Michael, I'm ready." There was more she'd wanted to say, but she still felt weak from the vision. Besides, he probably already knew most of it anyway.