A Sinking Ship

The Journalists

It wasn't long before Jack got back to me on news of sightings in Falls End. A man of auburn hair and a women of a jet black hair. Both never seen anywhere in Hope Country before hand. Might not be much to go off of, but it was a good place to start.

I woke up the next day on the couch, the fire out and the sound of crickets outside. I looked over the edge into my room, where Ada was sleeping. I was still in shock that she was pregnant. I don't think anyone could see me being a father. Maybe they wouldn't trust me with a child, which was aggravating.

Sometimes I couldn't stand being around Ada. She was too accepting of me, that it made me feel like she was faking it sometimes. I had betrayed her and she still loved me. She has told me so and I haven't. Because I don't really know how I feel about her. Sometimes I do, but other times I just want to get rid of her. Push her out. Push my emotions away. They made me weak. I wouldn't let that happen.

I stood up from the couch and spotted a gun on the island. And for one horrible moment, I debated killing her. A fix to all my problems. But even the worst person in the world wouldn't be able to do it. I shook my head, and shrugged on my jacket. I couldn't deny that I had some feeling for her. She was kind and she was beautiful.

After a few minutes, I was driving through the mountains toward Falls End. I realized quickly that I couldn't just waltz in there. I would probably be shot on sight. I threw off my jacket and grabbed a hat from the glove compartment. I was just wearing a torn, bloodied up gray shirt underneath the jacket, which probably wouldn't look so good in the resistance center. It was the best I could do.

I stopped just outside of the small town and hid a knife inside my boot and a gun in my holster. Had to be prepared for anything. I wasn't the only man with red hair in the county, so hopefully my beard wouldn't give away too much. I pushed the door open and was about to leave when I remembered my dogtags. It was weird taking them off. I never did. It was a control thing, and it made me feel better with them on. Regardless, I pulled them off and put them in the compartment.

I strolled into town, where a few civilians were already up and walking. The small town was nice. The buildings were spread out with some considerable distance between each one. I looked up at the water tower that read Falls End, established 1865, and saw a man from the resistance watching over the town. Thankfully the dawn offered little light, and my hat casted a shadow over my face. I felt myself tense when I passed by a civilian, but they just smiled at me and waved hello. I waved back reluctantly and continued down the sidewalk, feeling uncomfortable that they were actually being kind to me. I just reminded myself that they didn't know it was me, yet it still made me feel uneasy. It wasn't the only time it happened as well. Actually, every single one of them waved hello. I pushed the thought out of my head. I still had the urge to kill them, to quell the resistance. We may not have the best methods, but they didn't either. The dilemma of two evils, I guess. I quickly realized that I had no idea where to start. If there were journalists here, than the resistance was definitely helping them out. But I guess I didn't have to find them. They found me.

The man walked out of the bar first, his hair auburn hair shining underneath one on the lamp posts. He was wearing a long black coat with several pockets, and a scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. And then the girl came out. Her black hair was tied back into a long ponytail and she was wearing a long sleeved red sweatshirt. She had small brown eyes that drew me in with familiarity. And the she raised her hand to take a picture of the landscape, and I saw why. I stumbled back like I had been shot, and my breathing quickened.

Reed.

Holy shit, holy fuck. Why was she here? What the hell what was happening?

She turned around to walk down the sidewalk, but stopped when she saw me. My whole body seized up, forgetting that I had a hat hiding my face. I did what I always did when I was nervous. I went to play with my dog tags, but they weren't there. She seemed to recognize the movement and started to walk toward me. I turned on my heel and walked away from her, but she was hot on my heels. It was scary how much she knew about me. She was an observant one.