Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
01 x don't get caught
-----
PRESENT DAY.
Washington, D.C.
Etta Foster ran, like the chilly breeze distorting around crashing waves that came ashore. Like the vultures that soared into the violet skies when death was imminent and a herd of lionesses that had their hunt for the first meal. Her sable locks flung behind her shoulders, tears deluding her as she turned through alleys and the tips of her nails accumulating loam with her gradual scratches over the partitions. She had no clue the time, the day or the people behind who were chasing her.
All she knew was to keep moving forward and not look behind. She didn't know where she was speeding, her poor heart drubbing inside her as she fled with the grief and fear rooted within her.
Not five minutes ago, Etta had stepped outside her two-day-old apartment settlement to revamp her food supplies. Moments later, here she was, speeding as far as she could from her residence. No one should know, she had reminded her panting self. If anything, it should not fall into the wrong hands.
With leaden feet, Etta approached an alleyway. She reached the corner, but a swift glance revealed that it was only an obstructed trip to the back of a different house. The brunette was partly grounded in apprehension; she had to hurriedly correct and speed beyond the linear avenue, back to the footpath. The road desisted at the neighbouring corner and an obtrusive red, stop sign looming down on her. She concentrated on the heavy treads behind her, deciding whether or not to run further.
They verbalised distantly, though, and Etta knew they could pass her in any state. But she continued her sprint and venturing a tiny glance over her shoulder to glean more persistent calls of the men and instant relief flooding her. Maybe more people would be around her when she headed out of the deserted street. Was it two in the night, or three? There had to be some measly pedestrians in the corner.
The doctor skidded to a feared standstill.
The street was delineated on both sides by barren walls. Etta could see in the distance, two crossings down, the amber glow of lamps, vehicles, and more walkers, but all of them far away. Even if she tried, she could never get that distant.
