[center][h2]A [color=lightcoral]Dance[/color] with [color=maroon]Death[/color]: The [color=lightcoral]Pas de Deux[/color][/h2][/center]
[hr]

Ana hoped to say that she felt relieved when the man lowered his gun, but with one crisis averted, they had an entirely new one to deal with. It took only one worried glance around the proximity to realize that every zombie, within their auditory abilities, were all tracking down the irregular sound of a car horn. Panic was slowly creeping in but Ana did her best to remain collected.

[i]Right... Don't panic. Unlock the door. Drive away. We will be fine.[/i]

Ana preached this internally, over and over again. It was something she always did right before opening night. This was no different, it was just a dance. It took every bit of reaching possible for the short ballet dancer but she managed to flick the interior door lock for the passenger door. It wasn't until now that she realized that the man was calling out in Ana's native tongue, absolutely butchering the pronunciation and vocabulary. 

[color=lightcoral]Fuck! Just speak to me in English![/color] Ana yelled at the man as he swung open the passenger door and slipped into the seat.

[i]Okay... Just drive. Drive and we wi-!!!![/i]

Ana was in the process of leaning forward and shifting her vehicle into park when the man flung her back into her seat. For a moment, Ana worried that this was the end. That somehow, letting this man into Ana's really only home left had been a huge mistake. 

[color=lightcoral]"`tchyo za ga`lima?! What the fuck?!"[/color] Ana screamed after her ears began ringing from the man's suppressed rifle. It was nothing like the movies and confined in such a small place, the sound really reverberated inside. Plus, the muzzle was right in front of her. What the fuck was this guy? After a few shots, Ana heard her window shatter and now the barrier in which Ana had felt so securely about before, was gone. Cold air rushed in and Ana felt the breeze tickle her neck as it dried the thick sweat from her panic.

Enough was enough. [color=lightcoral]"Po'shyol 'na hui![/color] Ana really strained her throat as she yelled yet another curse, this time directed at the man. That wasn't the only thing she directed at him, her fist flew out and collided with the bridge of the man's nose. She pushed the man's weapon up sprung into a fury to start her car. The car revved into life and Ana slammed her foot on the pedal. The car roared to life, squealing the vehicle's tires, before accelerating. Several encroaching bodies of the recently deceased were smashed by the front bumper and treated as speed bumps as the car rolled over each of the Undead, all the while Ana had never ceased her Russian cursing fervor. Most were very nasty comments about a particular individual but some things were best left unwritten.

--

Some odd number of minutes would pass before Ana would cool down, relishing the silence after such a taxing event. There wasn't much to say and while it was nice to have company again, she certainly wasn't sure about this [i]Piz'da[/i] after all that had transpired. Thankfully, she wasn't going to be alone with this lunatic for much longer. The police radio buzzed to life, something that hadn't happen since the very early days of the outbreak, and a voice on the other end made a promise for everything that Ana wanted to hear. After its conclusion, Ana remained silent for a moment, pondering what to do.[color=lightcoral]"What do you think?"[/color] She finally spoke to her comrade, but not really waiting for a response she quickly picked up the car's mic and responded. [color=lightcoral]"Aay, I hear you Wilmington."[/color] Then a thought occurred to her. [color=lightcoral]"Where the fuck is Wilmington?"[/color] She said aloud.