𝙵𝙻𝙴𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙴 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙾 𐂃

Chapter 7

The next morning, during Charlene's memorial service Cristine sat with her family. She was one of the first to arrive at the service. Charlene – the nagging girl she'd eventually come to see as a friend – wasn't here anymore. Sitting now, in a ambience of heartache and sobbing, Cristine couldn't help but feel it was a grim truth to accept. Charlene didn't deserve any this and she missed one of her few female friends dearly. If she were here, alive, Charlene would have nagged at her to socialize and stay the night for some hick party the Ranch occasionally had. It felt strange to hear everyone talk about her. Talk about her contribution, her role and what she meant. Her own mother passed when she was young so it wasn't exactly the same. But since the apocalypse Cristine shed tears. For colleagues that turned, her mentor, and people from her last group. But now, that all felt like ages ago even if it was barely three months in the new world. This type of grief was different. Cristine hadn't lost a direct family member to understand the raw pain of Pat and Dax, hoped she didn't have to. But losing a friend made the brunette clench her hands together until her muscles pulled taut. Staring at the photograph, Cristine bit the inside of her cheek. Just a single portrait of a younger Charlene. Her body left in the wasteland. Jake gave her some sort of burial, but they didn't have time to spare with the injured Luciana.

"I was in the dining room dry-canning beans when an angel fell from the damn sky and crashed in my back yard," Pat spoke smoothly, sharing the story of a twelve year old Charlene. The story so much in character for the girl of many skills, the most prominent one her being a helicopter pilot. Pat continued, the grief cracking her voice, "she broke her arm in two places, but never cried," her mother did the same, not allowing her heart ache on full display. As if Charlene would have hated to know she was cried for. "She embodied the spirit of this place. The always ready, never quit, get it right this time spirit."

"And she would have if she wasn't risking her life for the unprepared." The flame that contained anger was noticeable on Pat's face. Her glare towards the Clark family, who were seated in the exact same row as Cristine and her family. The tension in the once grievous atmosphere turned tense within a secon when the distinct murmurs started to buzz incoherently.

Cristine looked at them and Madison, the mother, was quick to respond. She rose from her seat to introduce herself and her children, to the community. "We lost someone too. Travis... he was our compass." Madison tilted her head faintly, the sincerity of her emotions in her body language and face. Still, Cristine noticed how perfect Madison Clark looked and how calculated she articulated herself. Pretend and endure, but with caution. If she remembered Jake's words correctly, the mother and family survived since the start. Which meant Madison and her family being alive and well until today entailed they knew exactly what it took to survive. So unlike Cristine, if Madison needed to feign pleasantries and manners with a community that looked down on the unprepared, Cristine had the feeling Madison would play the game. It was probably why Troy handpicked this family himself. She found the mother's courage admirable; to face a crowd who had such an apparent distaste. But Madison was a mother and mothers did everything for their children. Cristine wondered if her mother would have done the same for her. But that thought quickly left her mind and she grasped the back of her seat to watch Madison her 'performance' with a strange sense of interest. Madison showed everyone that she too was a victim.

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