@jcmima
Jemima had been on her mind since she’d first seen the mayor’s violent, gruesome death. Her safety was critical, her wellbeing was a priority, and honestly? She didn’t want to be alone, and her best friends company was the one that she desired the most. In a crisis, her instinct was to help people, to save those that were saveable, to heal those that could be healed. Her self-preservation instinct was a second thought. However, a whole thirteen hours spent slaving away in a hospital, seeing all of the death firsthand quickly changed her tune. The only way to save these people was to first save herself. Everything in her house that could be useful was packed in a bag, food, medical supplies, water, a knife, and she headed to Jemima’s. The jaunt was long, she’d insisted on bringing her car in order to flee faster, but when she got there, she exhaled a breath she didn’t realize that she was holding.
Amelia let herself into her best friend’s home, not bothering to knock, and called out, “We need to leave. We need... to run. Find a place to hole up, I got supplies. We’ll come back for them, right? We can.” She sounded more confident than she felt. Her resolve had been shaken to its core.
