Troubles | TROY OTTO |

Chapter Three

Ella had been busy with the Luciana commotion that she had forgotten about the loss Broke Jaw suffered. Luciana was her top priority at the time; the life she could save. Charlene - her best friend - had been pushed to the back of her thoughts. Ella had learned to keep emotions at bay. It helped her work and kept her focused. Now she was idle, no distraction keeping her from facing the cruel truth. It's a large pill that gets stuck in her throat.

Ella only had a handful of individuals from Broke Jaw who knew her best. Troy took the number one spot after their relationship started. Before that, Charlene had known Ella better than she knew herself. The two were notoriously together. Where one was, the other would be too. Ella even buried her distaste for rough-housing long enough to cause some trouble, usually in the form of stealing from the training militia and running before they were tackled down and scolded for their behavior. Ella had lost track of how often Charlene had taken the pack of Mike's bullets or Coop's boots. They did it for some idiotic and childish indication of fun, ignoring the seething words from Troy when they were finally caught. Charlene had always stuck her nose up at his demands, quick to retort: "You're not the boss of me." Ella was quiter, less resilient to the scathing remarks from the blue-eyed boy. She'd give a sheepish smile before her hands extended in front of her to offer the stolen items, doe eyes blazing mock innocence. It was enough for Troy to back off, a huff leaving his lips before he snatched the item and went back to training.

Even after the many encounters, they would do it again; almost a weekly schedule before Ella had gotten trapped inside her head. They expected the blonde and brunette menaces to terrorize the inexperienced troop. Eventually, they had made a game out of it and incorporated it into the practices. Sometimes a wager would even be placed. Charlene was more valuable than Ella in these. Ella was easiest to catch, always the first to break and give them what they wanted. Charlene was as stubborn as her militant godbrother.

But when Ella had closed herself away, Charlene found her solace in the training she joined shortly after. The days of their trouble-making had ceased and they had both separated into their selected regime. They were still friends and often got together for the infamous bible study on their own, gossiping over the boys on the ranch. After all, they were teenage girls at the time. The time they spent together made them content and kept their friendship alive, even as the meetings became more scarce when they reached adulthood. They thought they had an endless amount of time together; both still captured by the naive invincibility of their younger days. Ella would have never guessed Charlene would be the first to go. Then again, she wouldn't have expected the world to come to a literal stand-still in a form other than the liberal agenda.

Ella didn't think she'd develop any regrets in her lifetime, but now she realized she had more than she thought. She regretted allowing herself to become distant all those years ago. She regretted not speaking with Charlene simply because she had been preoccupied with her own training; always saying she'd do it the next day but never getting to it. Most of all, Ella regretted keeping secrets from her along the way; particularly that of her affection for Troy. While it wasn't a secret, neither had publicly announced the fact to anyone - not Jake, not Charlene, not Jeremiah, and not any of the friends they've had for years.

The funeral had been scheduled within days.  With no body to lay to rest, a picture of the deceased blonde had been displayed instead.  It was an older photo, Charlene's hair clipped behind her ear as she gave the camera a toothless smile.  As Ella gazed at it, she could only recall how much her friend had hated getting her picture taken.  Any time Pat would make appointments to get them done, Charlene would mysteriously obtain an ailment that would make them cancel.  Pat knew her daughter's tricks, but let her get away with the act anyway.  Now, Ella couldn't help but wonder if the girl's mom regretted not making her go at least once.

Pat stood in front of the crowd gathered to honor Charlene's memory, dressed as casually as everyone else.  Funerals weren't formal events for the ranchers, especially when work would resume after, but Ella sported a simple black dress that only made itself known at the funerals.  Before she had been at Broke Jaw, she lived in the real world where the formalities were expected.  She didn't mind it though.  The strange glances she'd once been accustomed to no longer existed.  The ranchers understood it was Ella's way to respect the dead; a peak into the emotions she so often shielded away from prying eyes.

"I was in the dining room dry-canning beans when an angel fell from the damn sky and crashed in my back yard," Pat spokr evenly, sharing the story of a foolish 12 year old Charlene who had thought a big lawn umbrella would keep her up when she hopped from the roof of her house.  Ella hadn't known her at the time; she had arrived a little over a year after the event, but Jake had told her the story.  Charlene had been ablaze with burning cheeks as she defended herself, but Ella merely laughed and told her she would need a bigger umbrella next time.

"She broke her arm in two places, but she never cried," Pat continued, voice weighing with grief.  It made Ella's heart ache and her eyes sting, but she wouldn't cry.  Charlene would have hated to know Ella was crying for her, so she didn't.  Instead, her hands clenched together on her lap as she took in a deep breath, forcing her focus to the voice of the mother.  "She embodied the spirit of this place."  Pat paused.  "The always ready, never quit, get it right this time spirit." A look of anger sparked to life on the older blonde's features, Ella's body rigid with developing tension. 

"And she would have if she wasn't risking her life for the unprepared."  There it was; the prejudice toward outsiders, the blame for a death that could have easily happened whether the Clarks had showed up or not.  Ella and her parents had been outsiders once, although the strain wasn't as severe.  The ranchers just assumed the Phillips would be incapable of earning their place.  Once they had, they were treated as if they were with them since the beginning of Broke Jaw.  She had no doubt it would be the same for the Clarks.

Jake had slid to the place Pat had been occupying moments before, thanking her for the words she shared before an uprising could happen.  Madison took this moment to stand.  "Excuse me, I just wanted to introduce my family.  I'm Madison Clark and these are my kids Nick and Alicia."  Her confidence was admirable to Ella; to address a crowd who had apparent distaste for the newcomers.  Troy watched, amusement and interest painted on his face.  Ella didn't miss this look before she twisted in her seat to witness the speech herself, hands grasping the back of her seat as she did so.

"I wanted to offer my condolences for Charlene and the other loved ones you lost.  We lost loved ones too."  Madison stops herself for a second, inhaling shakily.  "Travis.  He was our compass."  She physically shakes her head, ridding herself of the sadness encasing her heart as she thought of him.  Now wasn't the time to dwell on the loss; she was making a point.  "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for sheltering us and your generosity.  We will repay it." 

Ella didn't doubt they would.  Madison was highly motivated, a plan in that head of hers though Ella didn't know what it could be.  Sure, the Clarks had been unprepared for the end times, but Broke Jaw had only been prepared for the attack of the liberals, not the zombie apocalypse.  The Clarks had experience that most of the ranchers didn't and they would use it to their advantage. 

Unedited.