Hit the Pavement

[Skraal]

((Eliza Patton continued from Will Alone))

Eliza groaned. She must have had been walking for a least an hour, and her legs were burning. The sun beat down on her head as she reached the paved bridge. As she got closer, she wrinkled her nose at the terrible smell coming from the nearby sewer drains. Trying her best to ignore the stench, she sat down to rest on the pavement. She could feel that the concrete was uncomfortably hot, even through her skirt. Still, it was better than sitting down in the dirt. Eliza rested her rifle on lap as her legs dangled over the side. 

Setting her bag beside her, she pulled out the manual that had come with her gun and flipped through it a few times. It didn't seem too complicated. As long as she avoided getting too close, the last incident wouldn't repeat itself. She touched her hand gingerly to her chin. Damn. It was already starting to swell. Next time she met that guy, things wouldn't end so cleanly.

For the time being though, things were pretty quiet. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and Eliza could swear that she could hear the sound of birds in the distance. The only problem was the smell. Was it just her, or was it actually getting worse? Oh well. There was probably just some sort of dead animal or something in the tunnel. No sense getting upset over it. Besides, she'd smelled plenty of worse things in the alleys downtown. She sighed. Shitty as those days were, she'd give anything to go back to them. At least the other Rainer Valley Girls were lucky enough to stay home. She thought about trying to send some sort of message to them through the cameras, but quickly gave up on the idea. Whatever she would want say to them, she would've wanted it to be private, not broadcast to the world.

She swung her legs over the gap below as she thought. What was she even doing? What did she want? Well, of course she wanted to live, but why in particular? It's not like she had very many goals for her life before the trip. She wanted to join a band, sure, but honestly, how was that going to work out? And why was she thinking about this now? Her head was pounding.

God, she needed a smoke.

((Eliza Patton continued in Perspectives, an Alternative)