Claire sifted through DK's pack robotically, trying desperately to distract herself from the fact that the docks were beginning to smell like musk and metal. The sick, overwhelming aura of death in the air was making her nauseous, and her efforts to place her mind elsewhere were hardly working. Still, her hands worked their way over the ammunition at the bottom of the bag, and she placed it on the ground beside her, awaiting the retrieval of her own pack so she could stash it away and ideally not look at it ever again. DK also had a decent amount of water left, which she also made a note to take (along with an extra flashlight), but she couldn't find much in the way of food. Whatever she did find only made her more nauseous, so she left it alone.
"...we should relocate. Somewhere safer."
Through the haze of emetic ambition, Claire caught the tail end of JJ's suggestion. She turned her head towards him, nodding meekly in compliance as he turned towards the shed to retrieve her equipment. In the meantime, she pondered whether or not she'd really need two guns. She barely knew how to work one. DK's felt more comfortable in her hands than the mini-revolver that looked practically like a toy, however, so she'd already made a note of keeping that one. JJ could have the other. He was going to protect her after all, right? Just like he had with DK. Better two people with guns than one who barely knew how to work them.
"...and besides, something tells me JJ's done his fair share of shooting in his day. Pool, guns, drugs. Something."
JJ returned from the shed, bag and gun in hand, and placed them gingerly beside Claire. Before acknowledging him she made sure to transfer DK's supplies into her pack, and afterwards she removed the .22 rounds for the Mini that she'd previously been keeping, handing the box to JJ.
"You'll need these," she gestured, moving her eyes from the ammunition to the gun in his hand. "I'm good," she finished before he could respond, flashing the heavier pistol she'd taken from DK in front of him.
"I...uh..." she started, attempting to break the awkward silence. What did you say to someone you'd hated only hours....minutes, before, when that same somebody had just saved your life? "I trust you"? That hardly made sense. They'd been standing together for all of five minutes. Clearly she had a shred of faith in him (something along the lines of "Please don't shoot me in the back of the head when I'm not expecting it, my dad would be pissed,"), but it didn't quite seem right. Not yet.
Her eyes glanced awkwardly back towards DK's body.
"...Thank you," she whispered almost inaudibly, staring out over the sunrise. Were it not for the foul stench of corpse in the air, the scenery would almost have been beautiful. She said nothing else, however, as she glanced out over what she presumed to be the ocean.
Claire Lambert, for once, was at a complete loss for words.
After gathering her thoughts for a few moments, she leaned down and closed up her pack, throwing it over her shoulder.
"...You're right. Let's go," she concluded half-heartedly, and began her return towards the treeline.
(Claire Lambert continued elsewhere)
G23: Claire Lambert: Property of the Fabulous Mr. Toben
B65: Dorian Ibanescu: Coastline
B57 - Jeff Marontate: Cleaved
B120: Jim Middleton: Pummeled
G61: Anna Grout: Submitted
G62: Andrea Vanlandingham: Martyred
G39 Alexis Machina: Crushed
G23: Trish McCarroll: Defeated
natlei was sleeping in her bed when someone came thru her window "get away rapist" she said still half asleep and hit one of them in the head with her liucky frying pan then went back tyo bed them men the injected her with a sedative and carried her off