Who: Cameron and Connor What: Meeting the new girl Where: Her cell When: Not long after they exchanged text messages Warnings: Not likely
As many times as she'd moved with the Connor family, and then her time on the road from New York had helped her cut her belongings down to just what she really needed to carry. There were always plenty of stores to loot for new clothes when she needed them, and she really didn't have to eat that much to maintain her biologicals in top condition.
She spent more time stripping and cleaning her pair of Glock 17s before returning them to her shoulder holsters. Her 870 12-guage was next, followed by her M4 carbine. Both ended up racked at the head of the bed she had claimed for her own along with an orderly draping of cartridge belts and the bullet-proof vest she had taken from a police station. Last, she pulled her coltan club out of the bottom of her bag and tossed it on the bed. Bigger than a billy club, smaller than a baseball bat, it was just the right size for knocking heads off zombies or bothersome vampires who didn't understand she would poison them. That, and it gave her a handy source of metal if she had to do any repairs to her skeleton. Cameron had read The Purloined Letter when she was still posing as a high school student and become a firm believer in hiding things in plain sight.
Wrinkling her nose at the overall condition of the cell, she hunted down cleaning supplies and was busily sweeping the floor when she heard someone coming down the hall toward her door. Pausing, she leaned lightly on the broom, knowing it could be a lethal weapon if she needed it to be.