𝑟𝑢𝑛٫ 𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑖𝑡٫ 𝑟𝑢𝑛; 𝑡𝑤𝑑

Chapter Two ￫ -ˋˏ Ipomoea ˎˊ-

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Luella stuck her fingers in her eardrums as horns blared habitually, accompanied by frustrated shouts and prolific profanity spilling out from neighbouring vehicles.

They'd been stuck on the highway into Atlanta for hours, along with seemingly hundreds of cars lining the road like ants; it was a complete gridlock.

Her father had deduced that the city was the best course of action, given the emergency broadcasts that had periodically been crackling through the car radio with various reporters claiming that the city would bring salvation and aid. 

That plan all came crashing down, however, as a colossal boom shook the earth, and a bright flash caught her eye from through the windshield. 

Atlanta was burning.

Small planes soared over the city, appearing more like lightning bugs from such a distance, small flecks of light against the dark canvas of the night sky. Blurs of bombs could be seen falling from the ejector racks, before the flying artillery performed a sharp maneuver and disappeared over the rooftops, presumably heading back to wherever they were based to reload.

Pushing her fear to the furthest depths of her mind, Luella slid from the passenger seat and joined her father's side, the man placing a protective hand on the back of her neck.

The burning city reflected in his irises, evoking memories of backyard bonfires and crackling fireplaces, calming recollections. Though this fire was a stark contrast to the variety they were familiar with, this fire was malicious and fuelled by malevolence, this was untamed, uncontrolled and unforgiving. The city was no longer safe.

"What are we going to do?" Luella asked as she squinted up at her father in the dark night air, the illuminations of car headlights and flashing bombs not quite reaching his face from her view, rendering his expression unreadable. 

"I don't know yet, lil' rabbit. Lets just hang tight for now, alright?" Mark patted his daughter's shoulder and headed back towards the car with his gaze hung low, leaving Luella alone.

Luella used this opportunity to scan the surrounding area, hoping to find something to occupy her time with. The salvation to her boredom came in the form of a young boy, who came bounding over with a dopey grin.

"Hi!" the boy stuck out a hand, which Luella reluctantly accepted. She immediately regretted this decision, however, as the boy had a handshake so violent she feared he may displace her shoulder from it's socket. 

"My name's Carl, Carl Grimes. What's yours?" he cocked his head inquisitively after finally freeing her hand from his clutches, adopting a demeanour that Luella found very much comparable to one of a golden retriever. 

"Luella-Mae Abbott," she replied curtly. She felt as though her personality was almost swallowed by his, as though merely being in his presence overshadowed his very being, and so she kept her answers brief. 

"Hey, you wanna play checkers with us?" Carl asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet as his arms swung back and forth.

"Us?" Luella replied, suddenly tense at the thought of socialisation with a potentially large group of children, a fate worse than death in her opinion.