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Rachel - Interactive Story - scene 9
🕑 Added 2024-05-15 22:36:48 +0000 UTCRachel secures her weapons and heads out the front door, her steps purposeful. First stop - Bailey. The poor girl is likely beside herself, holed up wherever she's renting these days. Rachel cuts across the lawn to her camper trailer parked in the driveway, throwing open the rear hatch and tossing her duffel bag inside before securing it again.
The distant roar of jet engines overhead draws her gaze skyward as Air Force planes streak across the sky, no doubt mobilizing for this catastrophe. The choppers she heard earlier have moved on, their thumping blades fading into the distance, only to be replaced by the sporadic pop of gunfire from who knows where.
Shaking off the distractions, Rachel turns and jogs down the sidewalk towards Milford Lane. Her eyes constantly scan for threats as the suburban homes give way to a more urban residential area. That's when she spots a familiar figure - Bailey, dressed in khaki shorts and a light blue hoodie, her sandals slapping the pavement as she runs full tilt toward Rachel.
"There were...these crazies..." Bailey says, gasping between ragged breaths, her face flushed from exertion. "They just...barged right into Mrs. Ortega's...kicked the door down..."
She pauses, gulping down air as panic flickers across her delicate features. "And Mrs. Ortega...oh god, she turned into one of those...those things! Like on the news!" Bailey's voice pitches higher, tears welling in her dark blue eyes. "She was coming right at me, trying to...to bite me or something!"
Rachel's brow furrows as the frantic words spill out, finally piecing together the chaos. "The infected, you mean? The zombies?" Her expression hardens. "Bloody hell."
Bailey nods jerkily, her chest still heaving. "Y-yeah, the zombies. And there were these strung-out junkies too! They broke in to steal Mrs. Ortega's pills while she was...was..." She shudders, unable to finish the thought. "It was horrible! I barely got away!"
Reaching out, Rachel places a steadying hand on the younger woman's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Easy now, take a few breaths. You're safe."
Bailey's wide eyes finally meet Rachel's gaze, a haunted look lingering there. "But what if more of them come? What if they followed me?"
"Then we'll handle it, yeah?" Rachel keeps her tone measured, projecting a sense of calm control. "I won't let any infected touch you. Just breathe, Bailey. You're with me now."
Placing a steadying hand on the girl's shoulder, Rachel tries to keep her calm. "Don't worry. I've got you sorted; you're safe now."
Bailey's eyes widen with realization. "But my stuff! It's all still at Mrs. Ortega's. My clothes, books, everything!"
"That's the least of our concerns right now," Rachel says, her tone soft but firm. "We need to get you away from this mess first."
"But it's all I have!" Bailey shouts, anguish written across her delicate features.
Comments
Michael O'Mahony
I'm choosing the third option. Let's be realistic, a few belongings aren't worth your life. Pros and cons.
