At least she's not their kind of dead. [open, Lestat]
Mona let her eyes sweep across the empty street, the distinct feeling that something was off, more than off, having hit her like a ton of bricks since her arrival to the City less than ten minutes prior. She was off, mulling over time leaps and alternate realities obsessively. Maybe it had been a quantum leap, much like a streetcar jolting itself back onto a straight path after a particularly narrow curve. Or perhaps jumping the track altogether.
Drop the analogy.
"Gotcha." She replied aloud to her thoughts. Then she sighed. The fact that she had been on Magazine Street making her way towards the Quarter and now she was here, apparently alone, bothered her sincerely. She'd had to stop, remaining utterly still, as she took in her surroundings. She hadn't once thought she'd merely been turned around: the idea was absurd. She knew her hometown all too well; every street, every shortcut, every alley, she knew. This wasn't home. Somehow, she'd managed to step into a different reality. The realization had put her back on her trek, perhaps not quite as perturbed by it as she could have been. Yeah, it was weird, but what was she going to do? Run? Hide? Freak out? That wasn't Mona's style. She also did not believe that Quinn too might be here somewhere. She would have known immediately, and though she did pick up on a few scattered presences, she was well aware that none of them were he. Maybe she could look for a way out...
Thoughts silenced, Mona slowed her pace considerably before finally coming to a halt altogether. The noise may have been three or four streets away, but Mona heard it clearly, as though she was standing directly in front of the sudden cause for alarm. Running. The footfalls were heavy, panicked - desperate, even. Ragged breathing. Somewhere in this City, someone was crying. Somewhere else, they were screaming. Car alarms were going off everywhere. Oddly enough, it now reminded her of home during the aftermath, save for the buildings all being properly intact. But this was no natural disaster. There was nothing natural about it.
Mona resumed her walk, taking a sharp left at the next intersection. This street wasn't as empty as the one she'd been on. In fact, compartively, it was packed. Not alive. No heartbeats. Slow movement. She turned on a heel, studying one of them. Reeks of death. If Mona could draw breath, she would have gagged - especially when she noticed the zombies were all missing various body parts. She concentrated, gently prodding one of the things' minds. Nothing intelligible. The one she'd been prodding grunted and fixed it's gaze on her. It... sniffed at her, she assumed, then looked uninterested and gazed elsewhere. Being dead did have it's advantages, such as now.
Her attention was forced elsewhere when she heard more screaming. She moved through the zombies, until she was at the center of the problem. A mortal was amongst them, trying desperately to get away before becoming their next meal. She glanced around, weighing her options. Could she...? Oh, no doubt....
Mona's eyes narrowed as she felt the Fire begin to rise from within and consume the ones attacking the innocent. She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the blaze. "Go. Find somewhere relatively safe, barricade yourself in." The human merely gaped, frozen in terror. Unfortunately, Mona didn't think he had a significant enough amount of time for her to give him a wry warning, or to convince him that he hadn't just witnessed a 5'3" pixie type chick set a few reanimated dead guys on fire. In this chaos, if he managed to survive, the likelihood of him remembering was slim to none. And if he did, she could then convince him of otherwise. "Now!" She hissed instead, even baring her fangs. Maybe it would snap him into action.
She wasn't disappointed. The mortal wasted no time in taking off, and Mona tilted her head ever so slightly as she listened to the sound of his feet hitting the concrete, listening until she was sure he was far enough away. At least from this particular pack, that was. She returned her gaze to the zombies as they passed her, the black spots of residue their burned brethren had left going ignored. Now, if only she could find someone - alive, or at least not a zombie - to explain to her just what was going on. And not just the zombies, but this entire City's deal. That would be great.