If there was one thing Taylor hated more than England, New York City would be a contender. Every time she had to make the trip across the pond she had to come in through this rat-infested island. Forged passports made getting in and out easier than it was for her relatives who had made the trip to live here permanently but still, this place was crowded, stank, and was full of people looking for a chance to get one over on you.

   The only reason she was here now was to make some drug deals, small time stuff, nothing compared to the supply she was moving in Belfast. No, instead of guns and ammunition for the resistance she was selling ditchweed to New York's growing stoner population. Finally getting rid of the last ounce she sighed stuffing the cash away safely in her 35' Ford Pickup hopping in and locking the doors just in case and hoodlums were hanging around waiting to jump her for the cash. Wasting no time hanging around she fired up the engine and took off down the crowded streets with a groan.

   "Gods this fuckin traffic... Why don't these lazy bastards just walk..." She dug around the glovebox fumbling around for her smokes and lighting one up as she waited for a light to turn green. It took 2 hours just to get to the other side of the bridge and back to the mainland. Sick of the city and the traffic she just kept driving until she made it out into the countryside, pulling off at the first cheap looking hotel she saw and getting a room for one. She grabbed the cash and got settled in for the night locking the doors and shutting the blinds, perpetually paranoid. Hopefully the drive back to PA in the morning would go fast, at least in Philly you aren't trapped on an island full of people looking to kill you. She'd had plenty of that in her life already.