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ooo. worth a try.
It was the cusp of autumn, the green leaves just beginning to change into a burning orange. Brodie was beat by the time they hit Wyoming — running on the fuel of fear. Day and night, she would be driving through abandoned roads and highways, getting the fuck outta dodge. But no distance was too great for Francis Gray. For a moment, Brodie thought that it was possible to successfully escape her psycho mother. That she'd be free from that burden that constantly infested her mind her mind like the plague. Maybe it could be her and Philippa against the world, but that was too grand of a wish.
Everything happened so fast. Brodie and Philippa were stuck, while chaos unravelled before them. Initially, it was believed they could take them. Preparing for unwanted war, they pulled out their guns aiming it at the dozens of infected screeching towards them. Powerful bullets tore through the air, knocking them down one by one. The shells from the shotgun clinking on the cement. Philippa did the same, shooting and reloading. Catching her off guard, one of the infected, grabbed her arm trying to get bite out of her. She let out a brief shriek, attempting to kick the fungal creature away from her. In fear, Brodie reacted quickly. Pulling the shiv from her thigh then forcing it into its hard crunchy jugular.
She couldn't notice, her mind was too occupied. The curly-headed young woman tended to the brunette repeatedly asking if she was okay. She didn't think to check her body for any marks or bites, she was too anxious. And the sound of bullets whizzing through air that weren't theirs caught the girls attention. "Come on! Hurry!" An extremely tall man called, holding open a metal door. Another person filed out of the threshold of the metal door, kneeling on one knee, aiming towards the upset bunch. The weapon looked serious, its recoil shoving her dainty shoulder backwards every shot. Wasting no time, Brodie places a hand on Philippa's back pushing her through the door. The man awaited the young woman to enter before shutting the door tightly.
Brodie heaved, her light eyebrows deepening. Unbothered by the two strangers, looking from each other to the two girls, she decided to thoroughly check her friend. The frightening screams of the infected on the other side of the cement wall, sent chills down her spine. She grabbed the brunette's arm roughly, unbeknownst to the wound underneath her knit sleeve. The blood that had seeped through was hers, not the infected. It was the arm that the clicker had grabbed — Brodie thought it didn't have a chance to sink it's mouth into her. The air grew thick. Philippa inhaling, and holding the deep breath. Frantically, the dark-skinned girl shoved her sleeve up, the girl wincing. The two strangers watched through the reflection of her dark saddening eyes. "Fuck..." Brodie muttered, blinking slowly.
Saliva pooled in Philippa's mouth as tears welled up in her honey eyes. "N- no... this- fuck..." She could barely speak, seeing the reaction on her partners face. Her hands began to shake, as she let her arm go limp by her side. Brodie's whole body started to tremble, but she was thinking. Her deep coloured eyes landed on the machete latched to the tall mans hip. It might've been crazy, but it was worth a try. She's never amputated an arm before this moment — there's always room for new things to put under her belt, though. Infection set in quickly, if she didn't do it then, Philippa was a goner. Shit, she probably still was at the hands of Brodie. "Phi, lie on the floor, please." She numbly spoke. She gulped, slowly slipping to the cold cement ground. "Lie on your back," Brodie instructed, crestfallen. To prevent any objections, she ripped the machete from his hip, immediately going in for the kill.
