Sicky and sweet

Chicken and dumplings

Sicily liked all things sweet; pink and red gingham, apple pie, lambs, ruffles, bunnies, and Maggie.
Her taste for sweetness earned the play on her name... "Sicky sweet". Don't get her wrong now, stubborn as a bull. The girl would rather eat nails with whiskey than to change her mind. She certainly gave her father a run for his money growing up. It wasnt difficult for her to get her way, especially with her rich dark brown hair and big green eyes. The freckles that dusted from her nose to her forehead, her straight strong nose that settled at a round point that almost touched the tip of her round pink lips.
The girl stood tallish, at 5'7 stature with strong legs and toned arms.
People used to poke at her mother,
"The sculpting on that one just can't be beat" often times bothering Beth the most. Her father favored her over anyone, with Beth's white hair and lamb like face, she was a dime for sure. But something so rich came from Maggie and Sicky.
When all hell broke loose and the gate of hell opened up down in Georgia, Sicky believed it was god way of the rapture. Punishing her for her sins of leaving her family for Juilliard.
She flew out of New York with flames coming out the tail end like a bat out of hell. Determined to get back to her farm. As soon as she touched down in the Atlanta airport, that's when she got the call.

"Mags? Hey hun I'm on my way-"
"Sicky? Oh god are you at Jackson airport?"
"I mean... yeah I got news of a sickness-"
"Sicky you need to get out of there now!"
"What?"
"You don't understand that infection it's making people crazy. They're starting to-" dead.
The line went dead. Her phone too.
"Shit."
She started running, bag in tow. She was booking it to the doors. Then she saw it, then heard it, then felt it.
Terror as she looked ahead, saw a young mother maybe in her late twenties eating her toddlers insides. The little boy quietly sobbed and reached his hand up towards her. A sound erupted from her like a gag.
"Oh god" she covered her mouth with the back of her hand.
She turned right, exiting to the taxi transportation doors. All she heard was screaming.
All the cars piled up on one another as people ran from the north.
She ditched her bag running forward to the parking garage. Trying to find some kind of off roading car she could take to avoid roads. Listening to any end of the world podcast or advice for pure entertainment helped her for once.
She ran up to the fifth level, then she saw it. A gray Land Rover, 1997. Dirty as can be but she felt like she struck gold.
She tried the lock, no luck. She decided breaking a window would be best. She got on her hands and knees looking for a rock when she saw them, the spare key taped to the inside of the wheel.

"Oh I just know the lord favors me!!" She practically screamed.
Just when she grabbed it she heard something. Growling.
Turning around with the key stuck to her palm. She saw a big burly man. Infected. Had to weigh about 300 pounds, he had vomit all down the front of his belly and chin. He seemed to have taken a very keen liking to her. He started stumbling to her, she turned to the door. Putting the key in the lock, turning. It was jammed. She pulled it out and pulled it back in. She turned it again ... and again. The man making his way to her closer and closer.
She never agreed with guns but right now she should've listened to her daddy.
She finally pulled the door open with the straight muscle in her legs against the back door. Hopped in and was about to shut the door when a big hand reached into the door.
"FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK!!" She tried to shut the door through his arm.
She looked around for anything in sight to help her. She looked to the passenger seat, the dashboard, and then the center console. A tiny revolver, one bullet in the Chamber.
"Thank you thank you thank you!!"
Trying to keep the door closed and out of the man's reach she held the door with one arm, leaned back and grabbed the revolver.
She got her hand wrapped around the base; the man's growling seemed to grow. She took it off safety with one finger and cocked it with her thumb. She aimed, was about to take shot in his stomach when the door let go of her fingertips, the man started forcing his way in when the finger slipped on the trigger. Putting a bullet straight into his brain.
His body went limp and fell. Slipping the body outside of the rover. Her heavy breaths turned to laughs, then sobs, then she shut the door and a scream. She rocked her body back and forth. Words cannot describe the terror she felt. Red hot? Freezing? Screaming? White noise?
All of it. All at once, a jumble of thoughts in her mind.

~Six hours~

Sicky avoiding all road highways was almost impossible. But she figured some ways, she remembered when uncle Otis drove her home from a dance convention one time, taking all back roads to get home so they could sing all of Bruce Springsteen's discography. It took almost six hours.
Luckily this redneck vehicle she highjacked kept a map, a revolver, and some half eaten sunflower seeds in hand. Perfect for her.

So she was about four hours into dodging any vehicles abandoned on the road when she ran out of gas. She let out another frustrated scream. But then counted her blessings and walked up half a mile to another car she found. She took the gas can in the back of the rover and went her Mary way. Taking the sunflower seeds with her.
She found a house next to the car and took the gardening hose, putting it all the way into the gas can, and sucked the end of the water hose to start the suction. Then we start to fill the can.
Started her journey back to the car. She hummed some songs on her way there, took about ten minutes.
She filled the car then went on her way.
Having to do that a few more times to make it back to the farm. When she finally pulled into the gate, she was so tired she practically fell out of the rover. Her entire family ran their way to her. Maggie smashing her against the vehicle.
"Oh my god! I've been crying since the call cut out. Sicky you can't do that!" She pushed her shoulder.
"Oh what you think I hung up on you?! Smart thinking Maggie Jesus-"
"Don't finish that sentence little girl." Her daddy peaked his way through, taking her in his arms.
" sorry " she smiles into his shoulder. She misses his smell.

Months were soon to pass, the girls were getting used to no tv and Sicily was getting used to being back on a farm. Her little accent coming back, making her voice even sweeter. Freckles were quick to dust her skin again and permanent sun kissed lay on her shoulders and cheeks. She was glad that before the outbreak she mailed a lot of her clothes back for the summer.
Her father scolded her for choosing fashion over practicality but she had master the talent of not getting a speck of dirty on her clothes. And when she did she knew exactly how to get it out. Lemon, river water, and peroxide worked wonders.

One day while Sicky was moving a baby lamb around the heard back over to her mother. She heard a scream and a man running to her with a boy in his arms. She was quick to set the lamb down and run to him.
" help! Help please help!"
Shit.