When Joanne didn't know what to do, she ran. It had always worked for her before. If she couldn't handle a situation, she ignored it until she went away. When someone acted in a way that she couldn't deal with, she fled. On some level, she knew that running wasn't the answer. Her father always encouraged her to face her fears. When she was at home, with him, she almost could. Oh her own, she found herself running before she knew what she was doing.

Now, there was no way for Joanne to keep running. No matter where she went, she couldn't escape the truth. The dormitories has burned down. Many of her classmates had died. And now they were back, determined to get their revenge on those still living, or so she believed. Joanne knew she couldn't let herself die, but she couldn't run from these facts either.

And, since she had badly injured both her knees and her ankle in the jump from her window, she couldn't physically run, either. There was no way to get away, not this time.

Joanne knew that others were teaming up, making their chances of survival better. She could hear them sometimes as they went past, looking for food or sending out scouts. But as badly as she wanted to live, she still couldn't bring herself to join them. Not now, when all she would do was slow them down.

She had hidden herself in a janitor's closet, tucked between a filthy bucket and a filthier mop. There was a flashlight in there, fortunately for her, which she used while sewing the business jacket she had saved from the fire into a makeshift shoulder bag. The photo album and notebook and one baby dress she had managed to rescue went in there as well, and the skirt of the suit was used to bandage her badly bleeding knee, which had since scabbed over. Her sewing kit went back into her pocket, thread nearly depleted.

There was a sink in the closet, so she had water, but no food. She had light, but she rarely used it. Mostly she just sat there in the dark, waiting for the answer to come to her. When she knew what to do, she would find someone and try to escape, or fight, or something. When she knew what to do, she would do it. Her stomach growled; how long had it been since she'd eaten? What was going on in the rest of the world? Why couldn't she bring herself to act?

"When I know what to do," she repeated, shivering. If only she could figure it out before it was too late.