Alex was a survivor. That was something about her that hadn’t changed. She had survived so much already, and she’d survive this too. She’d survive, even if she didn’t particularly want to right now. She was made of stronger stuff than that, and she could almost hear Nikita’s voice in her ear, telling her as such. She missed her, and Michael. But Alex was glad they weren’t here. They deserved to be happy and safe. And this place, it wasn’t either of those things.
There were people here to protect. She had a mission. Alex felt like with a purpose, she could keep fighting. She didn’t have to give up. And she didn’t have to focus on all of the thoughts that haunted her. She had something else to do. And there were some people here who didn’t know the first thing about fighting. Alex, she’d always been a fighter in some form or another.
It was different, fighting these creatures...but she’d take it. The hand had been less dangerous. But if she were being honest, she liked the danger. She liked the idea that she might get killed at any moment, and she didn’t. She was stronger than that. And as long as she had a reason to keep on fighting, she would. She could never adjust to any normal kind of life, she didn’t think. But this place was far from normal.
When she met Carlos, she took the clips and smiled. “If we waited for better circumstances, we might never meet.” She pointed out. “And no, I’m doing okay...just a little low on ammo.” Of course, she didn’t need guns to fight, but they certainly helped. “How about you?”