Slowly walking along the pedestrian walkway over the Brooklyin Bridge, Abigail Knight stayed alert for anything moviing,Zombies or not. Packs of wild dogs were a problem, as were zombies, but worse were other people.Zombies would just kill you, but people could do a lot worse to you, and wild dogs would eat anything that was flesh.Luckily there werent too many of them around, and she would worry about zombies 24/7.<br/><br/>She wore camoflage pants, patched up in parts, US issued army boots, a cut off tshirt in the same us camo pattern, and a north face jacket that she had found in a camping store just outside of Chicago. A pair of ski goggles and a beanie completed her post apocolyptic look.<br/><br/>Armed with an M16A2, twin Walther p99 pistols on her hips, a hockey stick and a crossbow pistol, which was in her hand, she walked until she reached the city proper.She had left her RV in Brooklyn, where it was safe, but she could still drive it over the Bridge if she had to if she found something worth driving over for. The RV had a full tank of gas, filled up in Brooklyn an hour ago, and the same gas station had enough of what an RV's engine needed to keep it going for a while yet.<br/><br/>Staying alert, she moved through the lower city, her ears peeled for any sounds of humankind or zombiekind. She followed her map of the city, and headed for one of only about two service stations that were in New York.Strange that it should only have two in total, but the world was full of such oddities, one such oddity was that she was immune to a zombies bite, handy as she had been bitten by her transformed father, who she had to shoot with her own service weapon so many years ago.<br/><br/>She walked calmly and casually, but with her crossbow pistol in her hand, past rusted car after rusted car, cop cars, barricades,put up by the last police in a vain attempt to contain the outbreak.