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Page 12: Departure Junction

 

 

"Move!" Hannah blurted out and took off.

 

"Shit!" Amira went into a full sprint when she noticed a group of about ten or more deranged figures running straight for them. As they made their way down the street, more soulless took notice and entered pursuit of the two young ladies.

 

Hannah and Amira both had their eyes on a small group straight ahead of them. They were coming fast. Amira knew she could get past them, whether by using her speed and maneuvering skills or by force. Either way, she knew she would get through. She wondered what Hannah had in mind.

 

"Keep up!" Hannah warned, turned right towards the parked car, and jumped up and over the hood. Her bottom slid across the hood before her rollerblades hit the ground, and she was back in action.

 

Amira sprinted past the vehicle that Hannah had leaped over, weaving between the following two parked cars and entering the road. The soulless creatures were fast, but Amira and Hannah were even quicker. The undead attempted to cut them off in the street, but the two women raced past before the creatures could reach them.

 

It didn't take long for Amira to realize that, despite their speed, the undead were relentless. "We have to find shelter; they won't stop running," Amira yelled.

 

"I don't think they get tired!" Hannah responded.

 

Amira looked over at Hannah, exerting effort in her sprint. "It seems like I'm the only one running on fumes here!" Running at this pace was catching up with her.

 

Hannah glanced down at Amira's feet. "What size are you? Are you any good with one skate?" Hannah questioned, assessing the situation and considering their options. She knew the wonders she could do with a single skate. She wondered if Amira could impress her in this area as well.

 

Amira's response lingered in the air as they continued their relentless sprint through the city blocks. The high-speed pursuit had taken its toll, yet Amira, fueled by an untapped reservoir of stamina, pressed on. "Over here!" she abruptly veered into an alleyway, the urgency in her decision evident to Hannah as she observed the mass of undead turning the corner up ahead.

 

Hannah smoothly glided into the alley, her eyes widening at the colossal horde chasing them. "Girl, I know you're tired," she remarked, closing the gap with Amira, who had considerably slowed her pace. Amira turned to face her. "But, it’s too many…" Hannah peered into Amira’s face. Knowing that this young woman is Amira Habtamu Nolan, who matched her abilities and surpassed them in some aspects, fueled a newfound assurance.

 

Amira was focused. Her eyes were on two figures that stepped into view at the end of the alley. “Get past them!” Hannah shouted while speeding past Amira. The two figures are now revealed to be two deranged soulless beings with mouths fumbling blood from their last victims. Just a few feet away, as she sped straight toward them, she quickly faked right and then did a crossover turn left, pushing forward to gain speed.

 

One of the men reached out for Hannah but found himself reaching into the air. Hannah was so far out of reach that it almost looked as if he was reaching out for something or someone entirely different. Amira went straight for the other one. He reached out for Amira’s throat and she smacked it away with her hand, and delivered a powerful jumping Muay Thai kick to the chest. The impact pushed his body so hard that it looked as if the soulless being had been snatched back on a string. He dropped to his bottom, then went sliding on his back.

 

Hannah smiled as she scissored her rollerblades and pointed her toes inward on the leading rollerblade, pushing forward, drawing c-cuts with the foot in the front and still keeping the rollerblade in the back. Then she crossed her legs and pushed off when she uncrossed. She leaned on her edges to go faster. Hannah smoothly glided on her rollerblades while Amira sprinted at a staggering 26 miles per hour. Witnessing Amira's incredible speed left Hannah astounded; she had never seen anyone run faster. The realization struck that Amira Habtamu Noland wasn't just an entertainer – she was the real deal, holding the title of women's MMA undefeated, undisputed champion.

 

Amira's exceptional skills extended far beyond the realm of fighting; whether it was running, swimming, mountain climbing, graffiti, free running, or any other pursuit, Amira excelled. Both Hannah and Amira raced down the dimly lit streets of Santa Monica, California. The undead horde trailed behind, futilely attempting to catch up. However, the ones in front continued to strategize, aiming to cut off the skilled duo. Despite the apocalyptic setting overrun by the undead, Amira and Hannah's expertise thwarted any attempts to impede their escape. The desolate streets seemed to offer no refuge, with the only other inhabitants being the relentless undead.

 

“Wait!” Amira came to a halt at the intersection, gasping for breath. "This is 4th," she mumbled, glancing up at the street sign.

 

Hannah executed a sharp turn left, gliding to a stop a few yards ahead of Amira after completing a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. "What is it?" she asked, noticing Amira's distress. "They're catching up!" Hannah warned.

 

Amira took a moment, gathering herself. "My husband and my brother are headed to San Vicente and 4th, at the San Vicente Tower. They could be there already." She stared at Hannah, contemplating their next moves.

 

Without waiting for Amira's question, Hannah responded, "My sister and a few friends are headed to Canyon Elementary School. That's where I'm headed. I'm hoping to see my little brother there." Skating backward, she pointed just past Amira. "Watch your back, girl! And get your asses to the school!"

 

"Okay, Hannah!" Amira smiled, jogging in a different direction. "It was nice meeting you, and I hope we'll meet again later!"

 

Amira jogged away, thinking about what Hannah said as she hid behind a parked vehicle and watched the undead pass by. Then, her mind went to the recent news broadcasts. The news reporter had shared locations for civilians to seek refuge as the situation escalated. “Praise Malphas!” she exclaimed, realizing these places were likely crowded. Mumbling to herself, she moved with determination.

 

Amid the chaos, a broadcast had repeated on the radio, instructing the sick and elderly to stay put, an unusual directive. Healthy adults and teens were urged to gather at specific locations around the city—schools, small businesses, or anywhere that could shelter large groups.

 

A military officer had used a bullhorn the morning before to inform civilians about established safe zones. Numerous safe zones were set up throughout Santa Monica, and Canyon Elementary School was just one of many locations where civilians could gather, preparing to be transported to one of the military camps.

 

Abruptly, Amira froze, her gaze fixated on a disturbing scene unfolding before her. A small group of people rushed toward 1st Court, where two individuals were assaulting a man on the ground across the street. However, the bright flashes seized her attention—the apartment building where Kate and Junior had sought refuge.

 

To her disbelief, the San Vicente Tower was engulfed in flames. Though Amira had noticed the distant smoke earlier, she never imagined it could be the Tower.

 

Approaching the nightmarish scene, Amira exercised caution, her fear mounting. Bodies sprawled across the sidewalk, curb, and streets, reminiscent of discarded refuse in a New York alley. Despite her trepidation, she couldn’t resist looking, searching for Kate and Junior, and the thought of Vince and Seamus sent shivers down her spine. Confronting the possibility of finding any of them lifeless on the ground was overwhelming.

 

The heat intensified as she neared the burning building. Shouts emanated from an apartment balcony across the street. Two figures struggled before tumbling over and landing on the sidewalk. Though the fall was short, only one person rose to his feet. Amira observed as the disoriented man scanned his surroundings, eventually noticing the unconscious figure beside him. Without hesitation, he descended, launching a brutal assault until the injured man awoke, screaming in pain.

 

Amira refocused on the San Vicente Tower, approaching with a sense of dread. Flames engulfed the apartment where Kate and Junior had sought refuge. "What the fuck happened?" she murmured, her voice barely audible as she halted in the street in front of the building. "Looks like an explosion or something."

 

The uncertainty about Vincent Jr. and Kate's whereabouts during whatever catastrophe unfolded within the building threatened to buckle Amira's knees. As she grappled with the fear, gurgling and growls behind her captured her attention. Turning swiftly, she witnessed a man being bitten, and the assailant lunged in her direction.

 

Despite the unfolding danger, Amira's determination to uncover the truth at the Tower overrode any instinct to flee.

 

Amira confronted a crucial decision: which art style to employ in this dire situation. The options danced through her mind – Capoeira for disorienting flair, Krav Maga for swift defense, the fluid movements of Silat, the powerful strikes of Muay Thai, or perhaps straightforward kickboxing to end the threat with unbridled aggression. Although Amira's deadliest fighting style is known as Shinsei Kenpo.

 

As the two figures charged toward her, she stood firm, contemplating her choice. In the darkness, their faces revealed only the intent of death. Wide-open mouths and vacant eyes fixated solely on her presence. The tension in the air hinted at an impending clash.

 

One of the assailants stumbled over a lifeless body sprawled across the street, crashing into an abandoned vehicle with a resounding impact. The collision echoed the chaos unfolding in the aftermath of the inexplicable event.