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The shotgun shot up. Reflex. A girl had just appeared, all of a sudden, at the saloon doors. Wasn't Delilah.

Renee. Renee Murphy. Sam didn't know her that well. He'd seen her around Alderbrook. She was friendly, back then, when things were normal. Still, he didn't know if he could trust her now. Things changed, and a death game changed them pretty damn fast.

"Hey," he said, eyeing the gun she held in her hand. That was a pretty viable threat, but at least she hadn't come in shooting, so she probably wasn't a killer. Yet.

Best to keep things as cordial as possible. He lowered the shotgun slightly, so that it was pointing towards the ground at her feet, rather than at her. No need to add to the body count; it could be his corpse if he wasn't careful. One more errant twitch and that could end it all, and he still had a mission to accomplish.

"Renee." Her name lingered in the air a while, as Sam tried to figure out what to say next. "Sorry about that. Kind of twitchy. I'm okay, considering the circumstances. What's been going on for you?"
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Program V3 Prologue:
Sylvia Veneski -- F32 -- Clothes Hanger -- Alive -- Someday We Won't Remember This

Auld Lang Syne
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While Rome Burns · The Saloon
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