An Undead Rebellion (Sequel)

in my feelings //

The sun was coming up and I was tired. Mentally, I was exhausted. I was sitting at a small table outside of a cafe, waiting for Corey to come back with my credit card and food. I had demanded a hot, strong coffee and something sweet. We were in a completely unfamiliar town to me, I had no idea where in my country we were, and Corey wouldn't tell me. He had us walking all night until finally we had reached signs of civilization and I told him I was getting coffee, considering inside my backpack were wads of cash, likely from my bank accounts. He conceded to my request, but insisted I stay outside and wait for him.He said the less people that saw/interacted with me the better.Inside the backpack was a hooded sweatshirt that he made me wear.

"Hide the hair," he had told me, tossing the fabric in my direction as we headed into the small town. "It's memorable."

"I don't know if I should be complimented or not." I'd said, yanking the black hoodie on and zipping it up over my stained shirt. "It seemed you didn't really like the red." My sarcasm was slowly returning to normal.

I tugged at my sleeves,anxious for caffeine since I knew I wouldn't be getting decent rest anytime remotely soon. Finally Corey reappeared, carrying two white cups and a small paper bag. He sat down across from me, sliding one of the cups over to me along with the bag. I greedily wrapped my fingers around the hot cup, taking a drink and scalding my tongue but I didn't care. Corey had changed into a pair of clothes that weren't covered in blood stains; dark jeans and a black Henley. He had all kinds of things in these bags he had prepped. Including cigarettes apparently. I watched as he lit one and I thought of Drake. I missed my brother. I hoped he was okay, How was he handling this? He didn't even know about dad. I swatted the cigarette smoke away from me and glared at Corey.

"You have ten minutes," Corey stated. "We need to catch a ferry."

"I can't just leave the country." I said, once again. He refused to listen. "I have responsibilities. I have family here. Drake...I can't leave him. He'll get killed. So will my mom. You said so yourself."

"Not my problem." he took a sip of coffee.

"Well then you can leave the country and I'll stay here."

"You'll die."

"If they're going to die, then why should I get to live?" I demanded, feeling my throat tighten up.

"We're leaving. Drake's smart, he'll figure it out."

"What about your family?" I pleaded. "You're just going to leave them behind?"

"When the Rebellion takes over they'll be fine."

"But my family won't." my voice broke, and I swallowed back the sob.

I stared down at my coffee, watching a tear fall into the drink. I wiped at my face briskly, but the tears came just as fast I could brush them away. I was afraid once I started crying I would fall apart, and I didn't know if I could put myself back together this time. How do I deal with my life being ripped away, my family being hurt?