The Bitter End » Places

         She had hardly gotten out of Atlanta alive. It was stupid to have gone there in the first place - it was a huge city, hard to maneuver, and with infected and rather unsavory people around every corner. Gunshots and screams could be heard throughout the day and night.

Then again, Elizabeth could have made it to the CDC if it wasn't for that damn kid. She was so close - if she was correct, only a few miles away. Now, she was fleeing on Interstate twenty, on the exact opposite side she had came in. It was an understatement to call it a miracle that she was alive.




It had started with the crying. It wasn't an adult, but the hysterical sobbing of a child, not far off from where Elizabeth was. She had a rule, don't get involved. Curiosity often kills the cat, but she still investigated anyway. Even a cold, dark survivor like her could not leave a child in the middle of infected Atlanta.

It was a young boy, huddling alone in a parking garage. Ragged clothes, messy hair with blood and dirt caked in. He looked absolutely pitiful, how would anyone not be able to help him? Elizabeth had hardly pulled a small bar of chocolate from her bag to offer when she felt the cold, unforgiving barrel of a gun being pressed against her temple.

Of course, she should have known. A child that loud in the middle of Atlanta would have died. He was being used by a group of bandits as bait. Ten years of utter caution, ten years of watching people die from the sidelines, and she was foiled by the one trick that is literally in every post-apocalyptic book. One man with a gun quickly turned into three men with a gun. Three menacing bandits who were going to rob her, kill her, or worse.

It was indeed a miracle that saved her, as she took the riskiest course of action. She fought back. She jammed her shoulder into the closest bandit's chest, and felt the barrel graze her neck when she heard him pull the trigger. A single click. But nothing else. By all odds, the man's revolver had misfired, giving Elizabeth ample time to carve a deep gash into the man with her switchblade.

After that, she ran, the other two now shooting at her. She hardly even registered the white-hot pain on her back as she ran up the ramp, sprinting down the road as quickly as her stiff ankle could take her. Attracted to the noise, infected flocked towards the garage. Another miracle that saved her life, as she would never be able to outrun them in the first place.




She jumped a few fences, climbed a couple ladders, and within a few hours, she was out of the city. And even further from the CDC. Of course, dwelling on the mistake didn't help. She wasn't going to risk going back through the city for a while, especially not in her condition. Her ankle was sore, she was exhausted from running, and worst of all, she was shot. Luckily for her it was a graze, but it didn't make the excruciating furrow the bullet had caused any less painful. It took forever to bandage it, as well. The bullet had hit her in that one hard-to-reach spot on her back.

Elizabeth was brought out of her reverie by the sound of metal underfoot. She stopped in her tracks, looking down towards a sign. It was horribly rusted and battered, but she could still read what it said.

LITHIA SPRINGS
CITY LIMIT

She threw a look back the road, looking at the endless expanse of asphalt and tar. She had definitely gone far enough. She could try and find a place to settle somewhere in Lithia Springs, find some supplies, and get her bearings in general. If she kept going for much longer, she'd find herself stuck on the highway as daylight dwindles away.

Elizabeth urged her tired feet on, heading towards the city. With luck, she'd be able to find supplies. Or even better, a quarantine zone.