Stella Lockheed
We dashed through sketchy, graffiti-covered alleys, our sneakers pounding the pavement like we were two protagonists in the middle of a pulse-pounding chase scene straight out of an over-the-top action movie. My heart drummed along to the rhythm of our hurried footsteps, and I couldn't help but wonder if the whole world could hear it, like a bass-heavy soundtrack to our misadventure.
"Seriously, are we in some cheesy horror flick?" I gasped between breaths, my lungs protesting the sprinting pace.
Willow, always quick with a witty comeback, laughed despite her own breathlessness. "Nah, more like a budget-friendly version of The Walking Dead, minus the zombies. Just a bunch of regular folks after two not-so-regular students."
As we finally slowed to a less-than-graceful s
