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NON-SEXUAL ACTS OF DOMINANCE! › judith telling ingrid to stay in the car ( sort of )
A SURVIVOR. A survivor. A survivor. It was the mantra that Ingrid repeated in her mind, sometimes even slipping out audibly underneath her breath, as she felt her knees grow weaker with every inch she ran. The slap of her sneakers against the pavement was the only thing louder than the sound of undead behind her, a good pace but still too close for comfort; tripping over her shoes or trash in the road would be enough to knock her back into the dead’s hands. She wouldn’t let that happen, though, because Ingrid Sergeant was a survivor. ( Three and a half years still alive would prove that, right? So why did she feel she had to try so hard to prove it? )
She was a survivor, and she had to be smart. She had to get inside somewhere safe. The street was littered with debris, trash, and long abandoned cars. There were buildings, too, but just a small misstep would make her walker chow. The cars, the cars! Willing her legs to stay strong, or in motion at least, for another moment, Ingrid tried to run just a bit faster to gain more distance and then threw the door open on the car nearest to her right. She dove head first into the backseat before she was slamming the door shut behind her, back falling onto the seat and her hands landing on her forehead to wipe sweat and flyaway hairs from her face.
❝ Jesus! ❞ She hissed, chest still heaving with exertion when her eyes flickered open to see she wasn’t alone in the car. ❝ Jesus! ❞ She exclaimed this time, loudly and catching the attention of a walker that was bumping into the door she just entered. ❝ Sorry, ❞ Her apology was harshly whispered, moving her body to sit up against the back of the seat. ❝ I’ll get out, I’ll get out, I’m just waiting for them to pass. ❞