Just call me the Karate Kid

We're officially off to Georgia!! Now that everything's fixed, we can continue the search for Gerard and my sister. "We", of course, meaning Winter, Ice, and I. Winter's sticking with me because we're both searching for similar answers, and I think Ice just likes me, which is great.

But about the post title. We almost got mugged last night (sleeping in a dumpster to save food money isn't the wisest course of action), and it was terrifying. But I saved us.

Yep, me. The teen from Westfield, youngest in the group.

How? Well, apparently I have flesh memories. Like The Bourne Identity, when Jason fights off these two cops without realizing how he's doing it. So when the gangbangers jumped us, I just took off with some crazy martial-arts routine. Winter said it was like watching Jackie Chan. Ice started talking in an accent. I laughed at him.

It's really crazy, because now I can do all this weird stuff. Like breaking glass with my bare hands. I get cut, but it doesn't hurt. I found this out when Ice handed me a bottle of olives (don't ask me why they were packed that way, I don't know) and I karate-chopped them open. Winter bandaged up my hand and gave me a lecture about listening to Ice. He just grinned and cracked kung-fu jokes.

Now I'm sitting on yet another Greyhound, bound for Atlanta to investigate a group known as the Feral. Apparently, they're huge, with an equally massive online community. See you when we get there!!

~Stacie