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Somewhere in the city, amongst the crowd of dozens of people rushing to get home, masks covering their faces in hopes to keep the horrific infection, which was now air-born, out of their bloodstream, was a pale colored girl, her lips chattering together at the feeling of the cool air wafting against her skin. Her black curls were bouncing with every step she took, and she did her best to ignore the feeling of other unknown civilians that brushed against her coat. Soon, she came to a stop at the train tracks.
The chuff sound filled her ears, and her hair was brushed back as a train flew by on its path. She blinked, crossing her arms over her chest before she heard grunts. She turned her head to the side, seeing a man on his knees with a yellow bag over his head. A woman, who looked to be his wife, her blond hair pulled away from frame, and a mask tied securely around her mouth and nose, was being held back by a security guard. Sobs began to tumble out of her mouth as she pleaded for them to let him go.
Teresa turned her head away, her eyes casted toward the ground. She decided to mind her business. The man must've been infected. Her blue gaze lifted up, and her heart dropped to the depths of her stomach, feeling as though she could throw up on spot. Across the train tracks, stood a raven haired freckled boy, a hoodie covering the hair that fell messily over his forehead.
Teresa's mouth fell agape.
Another shuttle traveled across her vision, and by the time it passed, she could see his hooded figure turn around, his head down, as he shuffled away.
She wasted no time before following after him.
Her heels clipped against the floor, and she did her best to avoid bumping shoulders with those around her. She grunted lowly as she struggled to keep up with his fast pace, her ankles rolling as she swerved around those in her way.
She turned to look behind her, double checking to see if he had escaped her vision and went another rout. The crowd began to disperse, everyone going in their own directions. She did another spin, feeling as though her heart skipped a beat when she spotted his hooded figure once more, making his way the double door. Rather quickly, as well. She sped up.
Her curls danced on her shoulders as she sped up into a light jog, "Thomas!" She cried out unsurely. The hooded boy glanced over his shoulder as he rounded a corner, and it only motivated her to speed up. She gripped onto her purse to keep it steady as she pushed herself out of the double doors, her pace slowing as she glanced around her. There was no one there.
Teresa paused, hearing the scuff of sneakers against the concrete. She shut her eyes for a moment, before slowly turning her body around, finally catching a clear glimpse of the boy she had been chasing all along.
"Thomas," She breathed, her eyebrows pulled together as her shoulders slumped. In relief? She didn't know. Maybe she was happy, that he was still alive after all this time.
