Thanks to the practice from her various post-apocalyptic store runs, Gracie was fairly adept at winding her car through the streets of San Francisco without hitting any abandoned vehicles or shambling dead. She managed to make it about a mile from the touristy area of the piers before noticing the shuffling hordes growing more dense up ahead. It was to be expected, really. That area of town was always full and lively, so of course it would remain densely populated by those unfortunate enough to be in the trampling crowds when people started eating each other. Swerving around the groups or attempting to ram straight through were equally dangerous propositions, and the idea of fighting or sneaking her way around was even more so.<br/><br/>The crowded nature and structural damage of the area would have made it as difficult to navigate as it was dangerous, had Gracie not possessed the rare gift of photographic memory. With a mere thought, she could recall the pier as it once was, with tourist families politely maneuvering around each other when not stopping to gawk at street performers or various novelty shops. She could remember where to find all of her favorite restaurants and stores, if only there was an easy way to get to them. The path of least resistance seemed to be the back door that all such businesses possessed. The young survivor wouldn't have to walk down the busy pier itself, but she would have to navigate and possibly fight through the narrow alleyways that ran between and behind the businesses.