#corruptedson

            a sharp and sudden inhale of life filled fragile lungs. alicia blinked through temporary blindness to find her surroundings. the dust and debris still filling the air from the destruction brought on by her brother. it was all gone. she was suddenly very aware of how soaked she was, her body having been submerged in the lake water -- she began to feel the chill setting in. however that was the least of her concerns. nick! he couldn’t be gone, no way in hell. that asshole had survived too much to kill himself that way. 

          “ everywhere we find a home at falls apart, nick. that’s gotta say something about this family... ”

it all falls apart so quick.    she told him to stay away, to let her do  her thing  --  he’s never been one to follow instructions.  she doesn’t know where the woman she was with went, all she knows is that the car crashed, there’s  blood  on her forehead, the hood is still steaming, and bullet casings sprinkle over the asphalt from some kind of   rifle.  it isn’t her own, it’s from the group of men that drove them off of the road. the dead  immediately  gather in the parking lot of the small strip mall, forcing alicia into a quaint little shop that  clearly  advertises their specialty in selling  ‘used clothes!’. breath labored, she’s frantic as she looks around for something --  anything  to bar the door with.  a quick dash to the nearest wall does the trick, for there’s a rolling rack ; she pushes it over, kicks at it, snaps the hanging pole party way off before sprinting back to the door.  it’s set in the handles like a pin in a  grenade.   (  she just hopes it doesn’t go off  ).

       picking up her backpack from the floor, she does a double take when her eyes catch a figure running through the lot.  ❝  nick, ❞  it’s whispered breathlessly, just to herself, but she immediately lunges forward to slam her hand on the glass window.  ❝  nick! -- NICK!  ❞  this isn’t good,  nothing  about this is good. he must have been tailing her, making sure she was  safe.  ❝  you dumb bastard,  ❞  she speaks to herself once again, eyes trailing her brother until she sees him enter a neighboring store. sprinting through the store, knocking over racks, she slams her body into a door that leads to the next business over, roughly jiggling at the doorknob.  ❝  nick!  ❞   she can’t  hear  anything. all she hears is gunfire outside, the group of dead that are gathering outside, and the sound of her heart in her ears.   ❝  i can’t get the door open!  nick! -- nick, please tell me you’re in there!  ❞

[ SMS @ Nicky <3 ]: come over?

[ SMS @ Nicky <3 ]: my window is open.

                    “So, this makes it -- what? -- THREE times in two weeks?” Sam calls to the familiar form in the back of his squad car. “Y’know, kid, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just can’t get enough of me...” He glances into the rear view mirror to get a better look at the guy. Oh yeah. Definitely the same kid. At this rate, it seemed lucky that he was taking him to the station rather than the HOSPITAL. “Clark -- that’s you, right?”