"Cierra, I'm taking my lunch break now!" A woman's voice echoed through the lounge area of the small office building just before the owner of the voice appeared, her red hair pulled back into an elegant bun as she used her only free hand to smooth down the dark material of her pencil skirt.
"I've only got about a half an hour until my next client, but I should be able to pop into Marie's down the street for a coffee or someth-" Her voice trailed off as she finally turned blue eyes to the empty room, obviously confused by being the only one there.
"Cierra?" The woman called out, taking a step forward, heels clacking against the tiled floor as she looked around the space- it wasn't as if the young woman she was looking for could be hidden behind the coffee maker though.
"What the hell?" She asked herself, voice just a whispered murmur as she moved towards the reception desk where she had been expecting her hired secretary to be sat waiting to take calls and handle appointments. The redhead gently ghosted her fingers over the large calendar that sat in the middle of the desk, snagging a neon green sticky note from the top of it that had the familiar scrawl of her friend and employee jotted across it.
"Amity, Andrew came and picked me up. He wouldn't let me say goodbye, but told me that it was an emergency. I'm so sorry! He says we're going to Atlanta- the government is sending us all to nearby safe zones so you need to join us after you find this! Forget the plant, just pack and go. Kiss, Kiss. CiCi." The woman read the note aloud to herself, disbelief evident in her voice as she looked at the piece of paper in her hand. It wasn't like her friend to pull a stunt like this, but being furious was the least of her worries as her phone began to buzz in her pocket.
Looking down at the touch screen, the redhead read the emergency alert that was causing her phone to vibrate and her heart nearly jumped into her throat.
Virus? Like the one that had been talked about on the news lately?
Amity had just assumed that there was an increase in people snorting bath salts and the news was just blowing it out of proportion for a good news story, but here she was standing alone in her office with a note from her closest friend telling her to go to a safe zone.
"Fuck," Amity hissed to herself before turning on heel and walking swiftly back into her office. The woman quickly gathered up her purse, stuffing only her large notebook that contained her most recent research into it, ignoring the diagnostic manuals that laid on her desk as she snatched her keys from the bag as well.
All but speed walking out of the small building, the young woman double tapped the button on her key fob that had her brand new 370 Z roaring to life as she locked the doors of the building behind her, not even bothering to glance at the sign that held her last name and the words, "Psychological Services."
Speeding down the nearly empty roads of her small town, Amity worked to keep her mind from jumping to the worst conclusions.
On the outside, the woman was calm and collected, taking turns sharply but staying cautious as there were a few cars speeding down the road that were driving even more recklessly than she was.
People were panicking.
"Shit," the woman cursed again- the profanities that randomly fell from her lips being the only sign of her distress.
Finally, she had pulled up in front of a simple two-story house that was obviously her own as she quickly entered the residence with a key on her small keychain.
Once the door was closed behind her, it was then that the redhead let herself have a moment of panic. Her breathing kicked up a notch and she quickly tore her hair down from its perfect bun as she kicked her heels off. Her slender hands covered her eyes for a moment but almost as quickly as they did so, they were falling away and the woman was nodding to herself.
Amity Walker was not going to go into any situation unprepared.
Bounding up the steps to her bedroom, she quickly stripped her work clothes from her body, replacing the pencil skirt and blouse with a sturdy pair of dark skinny jeans and flowy peach tank top as the Georgia summer was still in full swing. Quickly, she grabbed a surprisingly sturdy looking duffel bag from her closet- the dark material looking out of place in her pristine white room- and began to stuff it full of clothes. Only then did she turn from the bag and dart into her bathroom to grab hygiene items- some needed only once a month while the others were to hopefully put her ahead of the game in cleanliness when she reached the refugee center.
Once her bag was packed, the woman paused for a moment, seemingly thinking something over before she knelt down and tugged a large black hard plastic case from under her bed. Setting it on her mattress, she undid the clasps with a loud click and sighed a bit at the sight of the compound bow sitting pretty inside of it.
Upon opening the case Amity could have sworn that she caught a strong smell of the woods and could remember the day that her dad had handed her the damned thing crystal clear as if it had happened only the day before.
She had been a daddy's girl growing up- there was no doubt about that. Born and raised on a farm in the backwoods of Georgia, her father had made sure that both of his children, Amity along with her older brother, Michael, were able to fend for themselves both in life and in the woods. Never did he treat Amity like she was incapable of handling herself, throwing her on her first pony at the age of four and having her help both himself and Michael with the cattle by the time she was eight.
Her brother hadn't followed her daddy's line of thinking though.
No, Michael Walker was as overprotective as they came and Amity was honestly surprised that the man wasn't on her doorstep already with everything that had been happening, but then again, it wasn't like North Carolina was only a hop, skip, and a jump away.
While she thought over her family of men, Amity had already attached her quiver to the bow and situated it in her grasp before hooking her duffel bag over her shoulder and rushing down the stairs.
Just as she was about to push open the door of her home, the woman caught a bright spot of green out of the corner of her eye and turned, looking at her beautiful potted succulent sitting on her coffee table. She had been nursing the thing since her first day of college when her brother's girlfriend gifted it to her and it had done nothing but grown since.
Her mind jumped back to the note that was left in her office, specifically to the part where Cierra told her to "forget the plant" and nearly sighed.
Once again in her car, Amity tried to set the GPS on her phone to the Atlanta Aquarium, figuring that the refugee center would be somewhere in the center of the city, but let out a loud curse when she realized that her service was completely down. Now she couldn't even call her brother- or Cierra who she suddenly realized she should have called in the beginning when she found her missing.
She was an idiot, but there was no time to dwell.
Backing out of her driveway, the redhead gripped her steering wheel and was suddenly thankful that she had filled up her tank that morning as she began to navigate her way down what she hoped was her usual route into Atlanta.