R E E x V I H A R A
h e x x // x #bb2a3c
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Something rolled under the car's wheels, jolting the car. Ree thought she whimpered faintly.
"Gracie? Gracie!" Sharp stones under her bare feet, slicing through her soles; the stones growing slippery with blood, but it didn't matter - as long as she found Gracie, as long as she was safe...
The steering wheel was warm under her hands, mainly due to the bright sun directly overhead, but also her desperate grip on it. Anywhere this car could take them... anywhere away from this horror, and she was willing to drive until the steering wheel burned her fingers down to the knuckle.
She didn't see Gracie until she almost tripped over her hand. Right there, a grey starfish lying belly-up, miles and miles away from the sea. No, a hand reaching, grasping for her ankle, begging... don't leave me. She had to press a hand to her mouth, a dying scream clawing its way up her throat that was little more than a low moan by the time it left her.
Would run until her feet were bloody stumps if necessary.
Gracie's torso was there, right by the path, but her legs were further than was humanly possible, almost buried in the thick of the bushes. She could remember with a sudden clarity the week before, when Gracie had shown her all the machinery in the barn, machinery she wasn't allowed to touch even at eighteen years old because her parents weren't certain she wouldn't lose a finger or two to the sharp jaws lying in wait. Or half her body.
Was that movement she saw among the wreckage, right next to the road ahead? At this time of day? As they passed, the car slowed to a crawl, her eyes straining to see if there was anyone that needed their help - or, god forbid, something they needed to outrun.
Suddenly terrified, she ran back to the house and started tossing things into a bag - clothes, the last of the canned food, her coat - and bolted back out to the car, certain Gracie (or what used to be Gracie) would pull herself upright and begin heading back to meet her friend one more time. Never mind that she was barefoot. Never mind that she would have to stop and figure out where to go later. She needed to get out of there, right now.
Just grass, blowing in the wind. Nothing to fear. Nothing to run from - yet.
Ree turned to look at her passenger, picked up only two days ago. She'd been out here driving for almost five days, with only a vague idea of how to get to Detroit, and a passenger only meant one more person to care for. But somehow she felt a lot better, having a living person sitting next to her. It made the journey almost bearable.
"You okay?"
"Gracie? Gracie!" Sharp stones under her bare feet, slicing through her soles; the stones growing slippery with blood, but it didn't matter - as long as she found Gracie, as long as she was safe...
The steering wheel was warm under her hands, mainly due to the bright sun directly overhead, but also her desperate grip on it. Anywhere this car could take them... anywhere away from this horror, and she was willing to drive until the steering wheel burned her fingers down to the knuckle.
She didn't see Gracie until she almost tripped over her hand. Right there, a grey starfish lying belly-up, miles and miles away from the sea. No, a hand reaching, grasping for her ankle, begging... don't leave me. She had to press a hand to her mouth, a dying scream clawing its way up her throat that was little more than a low moan by the time it left her.
Would run until her feet were bloody stumps if necessary.
Gracie's torso was there, right by the path, but her legs were further than was humanly possible, almost buried in the thick of the bushes. She could remember with a sudden clarity the week before, when Gracie had shown her all the machinery in the barn, machinery she wasn't allowed to touch even at eighteen years old because her parents weren't certain she wouldn't lose a finger or two to the sharp jaws lying in wait. Or half her body.
Was that movement she saw among the wreckage, right next to the road ahead? At this time of day? As they passed, the car slowed to a crawl, her eyes straining to see if there was anyone that needed their help - or, god forbid, something they needed to outrun.
Suddenly terrified, she ran back to the house and started tossing things into a bag - clothes, the last of the canned food, her coat - and bolted back out to the car, certain Gracie (or what used to be Gracie) would pull herself upright and begin heading back to meet her friend one more time. Never mind that she was barefoot. Never mind that she would have to stop and figure out where to go later. She needed to get out of there, right now.
Just grass, blowing in the wind. Nothing to fear. Nothing to run from - yet.
Ree turned to look at her passenger, picked up only two days ago. She'd been out here driving for almost five days, with only a vague idea of how to get to Detroit, and a passenger only meant one more person to care for. But somehow she felt a lot better, having a living person sitting next to her. It made the journey almost bearable.
"You okay?"