The crash site is not that far away from where she met her new companions; if she still had her car she might have gotten there in just a few minutes, but needless to say it takes a bit longer on foot. The armored-plated ambulance is on its side, windows made of reinforced glass cracks if not shattered from whatever the gangers used to hit it. Standing sentry on an overgrown sidewalk next to the vehicle are a pair of armed humans sporting the Docwagon logo on their the breast of their shirts. Even from a little ways away you'd be able to tell they're bandaged, one with a wrapped forearm, the other with a white bandages over an eye and wrapped around the rest of their head to secure it.<br/><br/>The one with the banged up arm holds up an hand when he sees you and your new friend approach, shouting, "That's close enough, you! Who are you and what's your business in this area?"