Dead End|| #Wattys2017

Just the Beginning

       Her harsh, ragged breathing puffs out through chapped lips that are gaining a blue tint. Her converse clad feet crunching through the freshly fallen snow as she runs. Blood, tears, and sweat streams down the girl's flushed face but she doesn't slow her pace. She knows her head is bleeding somewhere, but there's no time to worry about that. Keeping a close eye on her surroundings, she frantically looks around. 'There!' her gaze lands on a white Chevron truck; perfectly camoflouged with the wintery precipitation.

     She races over to it, and skids to a halt next to the truck door. Hastily, she yanks the door open, climbs onto the driver's seat, shuts the door, and examines what she's working with. She removes the paneling covering the ignition system and steering column, and begins hotwiring the truck. This proves to be quite difficult; considering the girl's hands are trembling with fear, and her sight blurs from unshed tears. Finally, the vehicle roars to life, and she does not hesitate to plant her foot on the accelerator. The vehicle jolts forward and takes off on the barren, snow-dusted street.

     Her left hand raises to wipe at the blood rolling down her forehead, especially when it gets dangerously close to her eyes. 'Stop when you reach that fork in the road,' She instructs herself, eyes trained on the yellow line that cuts through the asphalt, and she slows the truck as she reaches the fork. Her sapphire irises stare into the woods, as she gnaws on her bottom lip. Then, she spots a figure heading towards her, and immediately tenses.

    "Paislee!" A male voice calls out, and she relaxes.

Reaching over, she throws open the door, and a teenage boy tosses himself onto the passenger's seat whilst shutting the door behind him. Paislee takes in his appearance; his black hair filthy and matted, his warm brown eyes filled with fear, and his grey sweatshirt tattered and covered in...blood. Shutting her eyes for a second, she returns to navigating the winding, icy roads.

     "Thank God you're okay, Bryce," Paislee breaths, swerving away from a large branch in the road.

     "Pais... y-you saved my life earlier. I wouldn't be in here right now if it hadn't been for you," Bryce says softly, and looks over at her.

     "You're bleeding real bad, you're in no condition to be driving. Let me drive," The raven-haired boy pleads, concerned about her.
The only response he receives is the girl tightening her grip on the leather steering wheel. Then, to his surprise, she slides her foot off the gas pedal, and removes her hands from the wheel. He takes the hint, and places his hands on the wheel and claims the seat Paislee once occupied. The blue-eyed girl shifts over to the passenger's side, and brings her knees to her chest, hugs them, and buries her face in them. Bryce glances over at her; her reddish brunette hair matted with blood, her hoodie bloody too, and her skinny jeans torn. The brave, strong girl that saved his life, is also the same girl cowering next to him.

      After what feels like an unending, uncomfortable silence Bryce speaks up, "maybe I should take you to a hospital before we pick up my brothers."

     Paislee stubbornly shakes her head, but regrets it when the pain in her head increases.
"No way Bryce, we would have to turn around to go to the nearest hospital. We must keep moving forward. Besides, the hospital will be crawling with...with them," The brunette shudders. He sighs, looking at the rearview mirror, and notices the piles of cars going the other way.

    "Why aren't we following all those people?"

    "They're just going to get stuck and killed, we have to keep moving if we want to stay alive. Those people clearly don't understand that," Pais replies with a stoic expression. He sighs, knowing he can't win, and the truck remains going forward.

       "Well, we could always find someone... a doctor?" Bryce decides to at least try to convince his friend to get help. Instead, he's taken back when Paislee glares at him, eyes sparkling with rage.
"Don't you get it, Bryce? Everywhere we go we find people dying, or dead! There are no doctors, and there won't be many people left by tomorrow!" Her hand shoots out and slams on the radio, filling the truck with static and a blaring, alert alarm. Bryce's face falls, because she's right. She's telling the cruel, inevitable truth... Just yesterday they rode around for fun, now they are riding around to survive. Without another word, the white truck and the two teenagers are steadily engulfed by the night, unsure about the journey ahead.

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Thanks for reading my first story! This is just an intro, and if you want me to continue it tell me. I'll get into more details if I continue, many thanks.