Rust and Roses

Chapter 8

After Mac and Davy's initiation into the Van Der Linde Gang, Marie and Mac developed a secret bond. Most nights, when there wasn't a big job to prepare for, the two met a short distance from the camp. Beneath the sprawling nighttime sky, adorned with shimmering stars, they huddled together, the air tinged with a subtle chill, talking about anything and everything.

On a somewhat chilly night, they lay close to each other, the soft glow of the campfire casting flickering shadows. Marie looked over at Mac, admiring his strong jawline with the tiniest bit of dirty blonde stubble covering his face. "What do you dream of?" she asked.

Mac, somewhat startled out of his quietness, replied, "I guess I've never given it much thought. I don't picture myself living a long life."

"Don't say that," Marie implored.

Mac shrugged his shoulders. Marie scoffed and rolled her eyes at his actions.

"Alright then," Mac started, feeling frustrated with Marie's response, "what do you dream of?"

"I don't know," Marie felt somewhat self-conscious to share her fantasies with someone who seemed so indifferent. "I guess I'd like a family someday, a real one... I mean, we are a family, but I would like to get married and have a few kids," she finally told him after finding the courage.

"You'll make a beautiful bride," Mac told her. Marie felt her face heat up in a flush, and despite the cover of darkness, she turned her head away from his to hide. "I suppose marriage and a family could be nice," he finally told her. Marie smiled at that.

"How'd you and your brother end up with Dutch and Hosea?" he probed, wondering about her tragic backstory compared to his.

Marie divulged her past, sharing about her mother's death, her father's abuse and death, and the orphanage. She shared the story of her illness and how John risked his life to find medicine for her. Marie smiled softly, remembering the kindness the men had showed her when they rescued her and John, how Annabelle and Bessie fussed over her and helped her rest and recover.

"What about you?" she chuckled, realizing she knew how they came to be in the gang, so she shook her head and rephrased, "I mean, how did you and your brother end up on your own?"

Mac chuckled along with her before answering, "well, my brother and I lived with our parents until about three years ago after my sister's death."

Marie gasped, "I didn't know you two had a sister; I am so sorry." Her hand reached out to his, and she squeezed it, offering comfort.

Mac nodded; he felt tears well in his eyes but shook them away. "My Dad was a mean son of a bitch, and my Mom never helped us, so we were always on our own. Well..." he chuckled sarcastically, "one day my Pa beat my sister so bad she died from her injuries, and my Mom helped him cover it up. I guess something in Davy and I snapped... I stabbed my father even after he had died, and, well, Davy strangled our Ma." Mac let out a heavy sigh, "we ran away; we knew people would see what they wanted to; we figured we'd be safer on our own."

"Do you miss her?" Marie gently asked.

Mac nodded, "yeah, I do. I will always regret not killin' my parents before her death."

Marie turned to rest on her side, her face facing Mac, "tell me about her." Marie still held on to Mac's hand.

"She was a sweet kid; you'd have loved her. Her name was Edith, but we called her Edi." Mac sighed heavily, his grief feeling heavier and heavier, "she always wanted to do what Davy and I were doin'; she didn't want to be like most girls. I always thought she'd grow up to be an explorer."