5th Floor

Renée crept up the steps like a fox, taking care to watch for tripping hazards. As she reach the 5th floor she could see nothing ahead, except some scattered clothes and a few odds and ends. The floor seemed abandon, so she kept moving, heading for 510, the apartment at the very end of the hall.

The woman who had lived there had stockpiled quite a bit, and Renée hoped there was at least something left behind, the tenant having likely fled the building long ago. All the apartment doors were closed and she could still hear nothing save for her own quickened breath. She felt a sense of unease up here but she shrugged it off as unwarranted worry. She brushed a few strands of her brown hair out of her eyes and kept glancing from door to door.

A soft cracking noise came from behind her somewhere suddenly and she froze like a deer in headlights only a few steps from apartment 510. Her grip on the pistol tightened and she decided she needed to act fast, knowing full well what might be behind her. A futa or even a hostile survivor trying to sneak up on her.

Renée whipped around with the pistol aimed straight but could see nothing. She had her back to the door of 510, she could easily back into the apartment, but she could also investigate the noise. Though she felt investigating it would be a terrible idea and would likely end badly.