Race to the City

The news report had been a punch to the gut, a cold, digital pronouncement of doom that echoed the terrifying reality unfolding around them. The world, their world, was ending. Ivanka’s gaze flickered from the flickering gas station television to Tamera’s determined face, then to Azarah, her eyes wide with a desperate hope that seemed almost foolish in the face of such utter devastation.

“We have to get to the city,” Tamera said, her voice tight with urgency. “Those helicopters… they’re their only chance. *Our* only chance.”

The implications hung heavy in the stale air of the gas station. The city. A place of towering buildings, of bustling crowds, of a life that felt impossibly distant now. But it was also the place where those five helicopters, symbols of a desperate, last-ditch effort, were taking off. Ivanka felt a knot tighten in her stomach. The city was a concrete jungle, and they were just a handful of scared kids and their even more scared little sisters.