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Rachel - Interactive Story - scene 11
🕑 Added 2024-06-15 17:57:25 +0000 UTCRachel shook her head in frustration. Sending Bailey upstairs alone would be stupid. The girl would get herself killed if a zombie was lurking above. She turns to Bailey, her voice low and firm. "We're going upstairs together. We need to stay as quiet as possible. Remember, you have to listen to me. If I say run, you run out of the house and don't look back. Got it?"
Bailey nods, her eyes wide with fear. "Got it."
They begin their ascent, Rachel gliding up the stairs silently. She places her feet near the edges of each step, avoiding the centers that she knows will creak. She gestures to Bailey, pointing out the exact spots to step on. Each movement is a dance of stealth. Bailey mimics her, her footsteps light and careful. Their breaths are shallow, almost inaudible, as they move in unison.
At the second-floor landing, Rachel pauses, listening. The house is primarily silent, but a strange, uneven breathing sound comes from one of the first rooms. She points to it, her eyes questioning Bailey.
The younger woman leans in and whispers, "That's the bathroom."
They creep down the hallway, each step measured and soundless, the air thick with tension. Rachel's fingers curl tighter around her pistol grip, her knuckles white. She approaches the bathroom door, her senses on high alert. With a quick gesture, she signals for Bailey to stay back. Slowly, she leans forward, her eyes narrowing as she carefully peeks inside.
A young woman sits on the toilet, fully clothed, her head lolling against the wall. Her hair is a tangled mess, greasy strands sticking to her pale, sweaty face. Dark circles shadow her eyes, which are glazed and unfocused, pupils dilated from whatever pills she's clutching in her hand. The bottle rests loosely in her lap, a few scattered pills glinting in the dim light. The room reeks of sweat and stale air.
Bailey edges closer, her whisper barely a breath. "That's one of the people who tried to rob us. Me and Mrs. Ortega."
Rachel’s mind raced as she weighed her options.
Close the bathroom door and leave the drugged woman alone? It'd be easy, but heartless, leaving her to a likely gruesome fate. Tell Bailey to wait in the hall while I kill the woman? It'd be the safest route, removing a potential threat, but bloody hell, that feels too ruthless, even now. Take the woman with us? She'd slow us down, make us vulnerable, but isn't it my mission to save as many as I can?
Rachel’s jaw tensed, the choice weighing on her.
