Ash, Eli, Laura, CJ, Garrett and Jonas had hidden out in an old mill without power, trying to hide from the stab-happy blenders, looming microwaves and tamogachis with an arson streak that have been bringing some spice into this small town.

I suppose they didn't know that this was your hangout.

You were taking a nap in the rafters at the smell of smoke. Looking down, you saw some chick smoking, looking rather roughed up, as well as a couple guys and another girl typing up a storm on a shitty computer.

Curious, you dropped down a good 8 feet to a crate, then to the ground with practiced finesse, making the group scream and jump back.

The chick with the cigarette, Ash, chose fight over flight and threw the lit cancer stick at your forehead.