Who: Sherry Birkin, open Where: Grand Central Station When: April 2nd, early evening What: Sherry's intro
Sherry climbed up from the tracks to the platform. She had walked on the train tracks all the way from Jersey, the twenty three year old stayed crouched a moment, her gun and eyes scanning the area. So far so good. She stood fully, one arm reaching up to tighten the strap of her backpack more, the other staying on the gun in hand.
It didn't take too long to make her way to the front doors only to find out that they were locked. Glancing back the way she had come she scowled. She didn't want to find a track that would let her out on the streets that way, and she didn't want to waste the ammo to shoot the lock. The moans of the undead caused her to turn glancing their way. Someone else must have taken the route she had and lured them downstairs because they were coming up from the platforms. Knowing she was really going to hate it, she aimed at the glass. One shot was all it took to make a hole big enough for her to crawl through. Sherry scrambled to the street and sank down in the middle of it a moment to catch her breath, the ivory handled revolver in both hands as she listened carefully.