It was warm that afternoon. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and a slight breeze tickled the treetops. A perfect day for a picnic. It was quiet, with nobody around in what used to be a small park.

A young woman was seated on a bench, her eyes almost closed. It appeared she was asleep, except for the rapid movement of her hands. A pair of silvery needles flashed in the sun as she deftly wrapped the cool blue yarn around them, the stitches ingrained in her muscle memory by this point. Yes, it was probably a bad idea, but occasionally, a moment of normalcy was necessary between towns. A few more minutes passed lazily, the scarf she had been making gaining a few more inches, before she stood, brushing off the back of her old jeans just in case. Quickly, she made her way back to the dark gray minivan she travelled in- hardly the most glamorous of vehicles, but she had found it abandoned a short while ago with a full tank of gas, so she didn't have too many qualms about style.

That actually showed looking at her- like most other people traversing the landscape, she was dressed solely for practicality. Her black sweater didn't fit her slim frame particularly well, but she welcomed the warmth when the wind started blowing, and she expected it would become even more necessary once summer was over. Sitting on the passenger seat of the van were a few assorted knit items she had made before the disaster, in various colours and materials. Frowning, she turned the key, looking down at the wheel. She was nearly out of gas, which was a problem. Food was also in rather short supply- while she had selected the minivan mostly to fit cargo, there wasn't much in there at the moment beyond her suitcase. Sighing, she started driving along the deserted road, cars abandoned on either side.

As if by divine providence, but probably due to decent city planning, there was a nearby gas station and mini mart. Nothing too fancy, of course, but it looked almost as if it hadn't been ransacked. The emergency generator was still going, powering the gas pumps and some dim fluorescent lights inside the store. Quickly, Susan got out of the car, her large black boots landing firmly on the ground, and filled the minivan's tank before hurrying inside.

The front shelves were fairly destroyed, but she wasn't too interested in chips and chocolate bars. One of the things she had managed to save was a small propane stove from her camping trips and a few canisters of fuel, so she planned to search for some sort of canned goods, preferably in bulk. Silently, she sneaked down the aisle towards where she assumed the stockroom would be, adjusting the bun of mousy brown hair that resided at the base of her neck.

Behind her, she heard a sudden motion. Quickly, she glanced back, but the configuration of the shelves prevented her from seeing the entrance. To be safe, she sped up her steps towards the back room, a rather worried expression coming over her thin face as she glanced over her shoulder. Luckily, she managed to make it, closing the door silently behind her and looking around. Admittedly, there was a chance it was another survivor, but with what she had seen of some of the people still around, it was far too risky to be spotted.