She had so many men within her Cartel, plenty of guns and ammunitions built up and saved for their needs. Well, the needs changed fast and in a way no one had ever expected to happen. The dead began to rise, no explanation to what was happening. It was when a large horde of zombies surrounded their shelter was when everything went wrong. She wasn't able to ease the panic, gunfire echoed through the empty streets, only attracting more danger. Valeria knew if she stayed, she would die. She didn't bother helping her men try to fight off the rest of the horde, quickly using the safest route she could find to get out of the shelter and slip into Las Almas.

It was a month after the cartels shelter had officially fallen and been overtaken by the undead. She was barely making it by herself, on her last few magazines of ammo for her sidearm, and only having a few cans to spread out until she could find more, and that was what she was currently doing. She was walking cautiously along the empty roads, her eyes skimming over the abandoned cars and blood-stained concrete. It was quiet, so she had thought she was safe. Even though she was ready to defend herself at any moment, a freshly-turned zombie somehow snuck up on her. Freshly-turned zombies still had their muscle strength, but lacked the self control. Valeria had managed to pull out her pistol, but as the zombie shoved her down onto the ground, the pistol slid away from her. It all happened so fast, it was mostly a blur. She must of screamed or something but her ears rang as the sound of a gunshot went off, the zombie that was just about to make her its dinner fell onto the floor dead, behind it stood a person with a gun, soon lowering it and offering a hand up. "Gracias." She spoke after taking a moment to compose herself, taking the persons hand and getting up off the ground, "I owe you one." She said as she picked her pistol off the ground, looking down at the now-dead zombie.