Genesis

Day 33 (2)

With headphones blasting the "Top 100 Hits from 2012" and body moving in step to a half-dance, half-murder-spree; the twenty-three year old fought her way through the overrun compound.

"Some nights I wish that this all would end, 'cause I really could use a friend right now-" Left foot on garbage can, right hand swings down with machete, slicing Viral head in half; left hand hits 'next'.

"Just shoot for the stars, if it feels right; and aim for my heart, if you feel like-" Right foot firmly placed against Viral's chest, left hand pulls the trigger, bullet flies through the Virals' forehead. Lips part-"I love this song!" Hips swing to the beat and feet pound against the ground. Dust cloud rises behind her, hands reach for links to the chain link fence.

"Take me by the tongue and I'll know you. Kiss me 'til your drunk and I'll show you-" Body launched over the top of the fence, Virals throw themselves against it. Feet painfully land on the ground and she pushes herself to roll to a stop. Hands press on dead grass and dust as she springs up, running once again. She may be out of the compound, but she isn't necessarily free from Virals.

"Oh, so get in the car, we can ride it-" Eyes search for safety, find it in the form of the mouth to a shallow cave. Feet pound against dry ground and arms pump against the air. Eyes squint against the light of the setting sun. Legs colllapse as she breaches the cave. Fingers fumble for a fire starting kit. Hands fly across the contents of her bag until a fire is started, illuminating the cave, empty with the exception of a small pool of water. Handds and calves and shoes scrape against the hard floor as she struggles to cover the entrance with a nearby rock. Lips part in a sigh as she sinks against the cave's wall once it is mostly closed; open only to filter out smoke.

"I've got the moves like Jagger." Fingers fumble to flip the music off. Small pillow and blanket pulled out of bag, along with emergency shock sheet and large ziploc baggy of assorted pills. After the removal of a water bottle with lukewarm water, she downed three select pills and replaced it. She carefully settled part of her emergency shock blanket on the ground as a cushion and then pulled the rest of it over her. The blanket was pulled over herself next, and the pillow placed under her head. Without a second thought, her eyes drifted closed, her hands clutching a hardback journal titled "Paige".

Hailey slowly removed the bandages she'd put on before heading out. It was an annoyance to have to obey every order by Moxxie, but at least Hailey and her ragtag group was alive. It did pain her to have to bring in survivors, but she could handle it if it meant a semblance of freedom for her and her friends. She may not have many emotions in general, but she could not stand the thought that she allowed someone to die when she could save them. The girl from earlier, Massie, would not die unless she did something stupid. If Hailey had left her in the hotel, she probably would have perished, and Hailey's group would have been murdered.

Her back ached, reminding her that not all of the bandages were fake. Some covered real wounds. For example, one of the bandages on her head covered the wound she'd gotten just days ago when she first arrived at the compound. The bandage on her back, which was covered, was for a wound she'd gotten on her first day, when she'd rebelled. The bandage on her wrist was to cover up the wound she got from slicing her wrist during an escape attempt. Most of her bandages may have been fake, but none of Harold's were.

"Stripes?" Hailey turned her head slightly as someone entered her room. She recognized them as someone from Moxxie's guard, but she was unable to attach a name to the face.

"You have dirt on your face," Hailey stated plainly as she adjusted the bandage on her back. The man rubbed at his forehead, successfully eradicating the dirt.