Summary: It's been almost a year since the outbreak first started. It wasn't an isolated incident, all of America reports came flooding in about a mystery illness. At first it seemed like nothing, most figured it'd be over in a few months until the first reports of the sick eating flesh filled every ounce of media. It was a steady down fall from there, in mere weeks the entirety of America fell into a wasteland. There was no relief from the rest of the world, and many accepted that this fate had become the whole globe. When the situation saw no hope, borders were closed and quarantine communities were enacted but there wasn't space for everyone. The military pulled its soldiers out of the cities and left the public defenseless. There were countless deaths on the first night and when the sun rose on a new bleak day, many held no faith that the next night would be any different. That was until a single broadcast echoed through any transmission with an open ear. A sanctuary up north, on the Canadian border. It was hope for anyone left standing, and maybe their only chance to survive.

Setting: It's been almost a year since the outbreak began late in April. Anyone who was caught out of quarantine regions were no longer welcomed and, with only one chance at survival in sight, many migrated north to Canada. To Sanctuary. At this point, many who were in the most southern corners of America have finally found themselves approaching the Canadian border. With New England firmly in January's icy grips, there is uncertainty. New challenges arise along with the hoards, as starvation becomes a bigger concern in the isolated woods of Maine and the winter chill becoming all the more deadly. As the destination closes in, survivors have run into each other more often and while some have found new companions, killing for supplies isn't unheard of from the more desperate. Gangs are running rampant at the borders, intending on robbing anyone who tries to cross over or even try to get close. An unspoken fear carries among the people travelling northward. Is there even still a sanctuary waiting for them?

Characters: Aletta had managed to survive the initial outbreak for months when the upper floors of her New York apartment building banded together to form a community. When supplies ran low, Aletta was the one to catch wind of a Canadian oasis, hearing from her father across the border. Plans were made to move, which divided the community, and groups split off. Aletta joined one of them who traveled toward Maine. Infighting resulted in the group's demise and she ran off on her own, her trust in other survivors frayed. Upon meeting Yves and Anthen, and more importantly, their car, she convinced them to take her on with her knowledge of a safehouse deep in Maine.

Anthen was only supposed to be in Tampa for business and, well, that doesn't really stop the rest of the world from keeping on its course. As an expert physicist and engineer, he was quick to use his environment as an advantage, escape Tampa unscathed, and team up with Yves on his way. From then, the journey hasn't been easy. Between them, Anthen is the one that keeps them pushing forward; though he doesn't know what lies in wait for them in Canada, he also knows that if they don't take a chance then they'll burn out. Thank goodness he's so good at making traps or else they would've died a dozen times over by now.

Yves was particularly unlucky, a California native who was stranded in the Tampa International Airport during his wait for a connecting flight back home. While he thankfully found a travelling companion in fellow stranded patron, Anthen, the journey northward has been strenuous. With the doubt of a sanctuary truly being out there, Yves has made himself quite the pessimist. He's a trained field medic, a valuable asset in post-outbreak America, but it isn't unheard of for medics to go missing while in gang territories.

The further north they went, the less the air smelled and tasted like acrid, blacked smoke. Though the air was frigid and the grass was now covered in a thin layer of frost, the sky had opened up into a calming pale blue over Massachusetts wilderness. The roads were much less difficult to navigate than they had been through New York, mostly because of the lack of abandoned vehicles -- they had very consciously chosen a route that tracked far around the Boston area for this reason precisely. In Vermont, they'd managed to cobble together enough gas alongside an ugly looking station wagon to travel in, as all their previous vehicles had to be abandoned for a long list of various reasons.

Now, Anthen sat at the wheel, blearily blinking through sunglasses through the frosty windshield after seven consecutive hours of driving. He had some weird CD playing through the stereo system that Yves had pilfered from some long abandoned music collection (and god, was there more where that came from). Aletta slept soundly in the backseat, hadn't stirred for the better half of three hours. She was packed back there with the bulk of their stuff that couldn't fit in the trunk. Yves sat to Anthen's left, still awake and alive (thankfully).

"I'm getting hungry but the thought of eating those weird beans again is making me break out into a cold sweat," Anthen said to Yves, conversationally. It'd been a while since anyone had said anything. "Speaking of cold, you think we should stop somewhere and get more stuff to make a fire or something? It'll suck when we have to get out and not have a heater."

It had taken Yves the better part of the drive to finally get comfortable in the front seat, fidgeting with a fleece blanket they picked up early in their journey until he was cozy enough. He looked up from a ratty puzzle book he'd been using to distract himself when Anthen broke the long silence. He huffed a laugh at him calling the beans weird, as if there was much room to genuinely complain about the food. Getting firewood was a good idea though, with the snow layering the ground finding dry wood was becoming more and more difficult.

Yves glanced to Aletta in the back while he mulled over the idea. She'd only recently joined them, they decided to let her stay when she offered a more concrete promise of help. What were the chances she'd wake up and steal their car and supplies while they were out gathering? He didn't have any sort of good read on her character yet but Anthen seemed to trust her. "Yeah, it couldn't hurt," he said decidedly, leaning back in his seat. "We should let her sleep though, who knows how long she went without a decent night before we picked her up... Do you think our gas will last us until we get to the next town?"

"Uhhhh, yeah, I think so. If it doesn't, it's your turn to get out and fill it up," Anthen replied, checking the fuel gauge -- god, it was an old enough car that it was still analog, wasn't that different. At the end of his sentence, he shot Yves with a look that was equal coy and smug. "It should, though. For real. We got about twenty miles until we hit Northampton, according to the map and... head math, I guess. We should be okay."

Outside, the road was cracked, rough, and ugly, but Anthen was just grateful that snow hadn't fallen yet. If it had, they'd either have to luck out and find snowmobiles or attempt the rest of the journey on foot. The only benefit to the southern states was, while the infection was rampant and dangerous, there wasn't a risk of getting killed by weather (until, of course, hurricane season). Up ahead, a couple old cars were joined together in a year-old accident, but much further on Anthen could see some small trees crossing over the road.

"Ugh, looks like we're gonna have to get out anyway," he announced. "There's stuff in the road again to move."

Yves frowned, he didn't really want to get out of the car just yet but there were deep ditches on either side of the road making going around them impossible. He stared wearily at the roadblock and then the thin trees surrounding them. At the very least, they'd see anything coming. Still his mind drifted back to their mysterious new companion, and how much valuable supplies they had in the car. A rock and a hard place.

"Yeah, I guess so huh," there was a horrible feeling in his chest but, despite the anxiety, he popped open glovebox and removed the old handgun he had stashed there when they first started the drive. "Let's just get it done with fast, I don't like how little excitement we've been having."

Anthen parked as soon as they were close enough to the blockage that getting out and walking wouldn't be a chore. There was a big, old log strewn about the pavement, broken up into several pieces from what was probably the impact. Anthen eyeballed around, trying to spot a sign of tampering or a trap, but there was nothing he could actually see. He exhaled, turned the car off, and unbuckled, digging out a hand ax from the floor of the front seat.

Outside, the world lay quiet and barren. The car felt odd without the somber song that had been playing.

"Should we wake her? We should wake her," Anthen determined, shuffling a little just to look around at Aletta in the back. "Hey, you. We're stoppin' just a minute -- you can stay in here if you want."

It was the deepest sleep Aletta had gotten in a while; yet Anthen's voice was enough to stir her, eyelids flickering a bit before she pushed up on her elbow. Alarm flashed in her expression. "Stopping?" she echoed, mumbling past her lips. Slowly she seemed to remember where she was. Her eyebrows furrowed and she began to argue, "Why are we-- oh." Roadblock.

Blinking a few times, she scooted around to put her feet on the floorboards. She untangled her blanket from around her waist. "I guess I'll get out and stretch my legs. I also don't wanna be a canned sardine of something comes running from the woods."

The metal-welded, nail-infested bat Aletta carried was shoved at a precarious angle to fit behind Yves' seat. She tugged it free and popped open the door, scarcely meeting Anthen's eyes. "I'll just... stand here," she told him, like an assurance.

Yves glanced over to Anthen as he pushed open his own door, reluctant to be leaving the car's safe confines. There was comfort as he felt the tension was mutual between him and Aletta. That didn't change the fact that it would take time for him to find comfort in their new companion. He hastily shoved the handgun into his jacket pocket as he stepped out. His legs had been asleep for hours, and he wobbled a bit when he hit the pavement.

There was a low, long call of some sort of bird from the trees making Yves's hairs stand on end. At least it wasn't crows. "I sure did not miss walking, my legs are still sore." He attempted some casual conversation while he pulled a crowbar out from under his seat, if they were lucky the cars would still roll or else they'd have to just continue on foot.

"How long do you think we got til dark?" He asked, strolling to the front of the car with the crowbar slung over one shoulder.

Anthen looked around, then glanced down at the watch on his wrist. The time read 3:02 PM, which wasn't exactly what Anthen had been hoping, but it was what he'd expected.

"Uhhh, probably about an hour if clouds don't roll in. We should work fast so we can move on to find somewhere to sleep tonight. Lucky for us, there usually isn't anything other than wildlife in these woods," Anthen responded, shuffling over to the logs. He began dutifully kicking and chopping them out of the way, ignoring the bite of cold at his cheeks. "Hey Aletta, you're good on keepin' watch, right?"

"Mmhm." Aletta kept her place as promised, stood with her back against the car. These two had been fine for this long, but she was frankly happy to keep them a couple meters away and each contained in her eyesight.

It's not like last time was an orchestrated sabotage, or backstabbing. It was spontaneous. It was peoples' feelings and fear overtaking rationale and erasing their friendships. Aletta just couldn't wait until she no longer had to rely on strangers.

She kicked the tire with the heel of her boot. The woods was empty and quiet. "You might want to check the cars for stuff."

"Already on it." Yves called back to her as he shoved one end of the crowbar underneath a locked trunk and levered it down. It took a bit of force but the lock popped open with a satisfying noise. He didn't expect much to be found in it, but blinked also surprised by what was in there.

"Hey Anthen, come check this out." He stepped to the side, holding the trunk open above his head. There was some molded bread, a disgusting bag of some indistinguishable vegetable and other perishable items, but among the rotten food was a few cans. It was mostly unappealing stuff like cream of mushroom, but any variety was welcome.

He continued to rifle through the trunk and found something that really piqued his interest. "Do you think we'd die if we drank something carbonated?" He dragged a six pack of soda out from under a bag, holding it up to Aletta and Anthen.

Anthen didn't move to go check out Yves's spoils and continued working to clear out a spot big enough for a car to pass through. He did, however, look up with exasperation just long enough to set his mood on the matter.

"I mean, no? How old do you think those are? Maybe they're frozen," Anthen pondered, kicking the last few bits of log lazily out of the way. There was a cold wind howling like a banshee over the barren tree tops. It felt eerily like the three of them were the last people on Earth. "Anyway, finish up with the cars, I'm gonna go start up ours so we don't lose the heat."

He started his way back over from the fallen logs.

Soda? Aletta's head turned at the notion of something that wasn't stale, suspicious water. Her mouth twitched, wanting to say something, but being friendly with these guys didn't come easy. Anthen said enough.

She stepped away from the car as Anthen approached. The quicker they moved on from here, the better.

The other's did seem as excited about the treasure as Yves did, which was fine. He shrugged simply and set the sodas down on the ground so he could finish up and grab them later. "Okay, okay." He sighed and got to work, prying through the front seats of the car and then moving on to scavenge the next one. Nothing interesting except some clothes, they were smaller but he figured they'd probably fit Aletta.

After he had pecked through the cars, he set their gears to neutral and slowly began shoving them off the road. It was harder to do alone, Anthen usually helped, but it wasn't like he couldn't do it.