The 242 had become an animal; a towering majestic beast with a thick red skin, hard as iron, and two incandescent yellow eyes. Each new wound, seeping with royal blue blood turned thick and grey at the touch of oxygen, caused her to screech with such ferocity that the sound echoed for miles. At every turn the gargantuan beast would slow for a moment but soon regain her lost speed, hurling herself forward with a doleful groan. The little girl could hardly bear it; the sheer determination – or was it indifference? - with which the 242 soldiered on was both awe-inspiring and utterly heart-breaking. The beast slowed to a halt and looked towards the distant horizon where the sun was just beginning to rise. The 242 bent her head downwards and opened her great mouth, allowing a little girl’s tiny figure to step out, clutching her mother’s hand. The beast turned to the forthcoming sunrise again and the girl followed its gaze, stumbling as she interrupted her mother’s hurried pace to watch the light pour out over the sleeping city like an intangible golden rain. A silent alarm sounded and the city awoke.
