"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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TDS
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Ericka stumbled through the trees, her shirt and bag getting caught on tree limbs and bushes, she knew she wasn't making great time and that the other people, if they were coming after her, were likely catching up by now. She had to think of a way to get those people to stop chasing her, if only... 'There is a way I can get them to stop chasing me, at least for the short term,' she realized, 'if I shoot they might take cover long enough for me to lose them. No, I-I can't shoot at another person. They might... but....' Ericka stopped and looked down at her gun. If she wanted to survive, she would at some point have to fire this thing, at other people even. If she couldn't do it now when her life was potentially in danger then she had little chance of surviving much longer.

*crack*

Ericka spun around. She couldn't see them, but the sound seemed to say that they were closer than she thought. This was it, the moment of truth.

Ericka put both hands on her gun, aiming it toward location the sound came from. She put her finger on the trigger and pulled. Once. Twice. Three Times. Then she turned and ran.

((Ericka Bradley continued in Just Like a Hangover, But Without All the Fun))
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Droplets · The Woods: Coastal