𝙵𝙻𝙴𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙴 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙾 𐂃

Chapter 31

"I'm sorry about Vernon." Cristine murmured while cleaning her father's cut lip. "But it's his choice and if he chooses what's out there over here, that's the end of it daddy. You need to let it go."

"I know that... I thought this would strengthen the community not fracture it." James didn't look at his daughter, but at the ceiling. He didn't even flinch when she dabbed the septic against the cut to clean it. "It's hard to hear your friend of 30 years just run away like a coward." He sucked in a shaky breath thinking of the betrayal of someone he though his close friend. He decided to shift his thoughts to something else and gently brought up the other bitter news of their community. "I heard about what happened in the infirmary."

"Jack saved Hailey's life... all our lives. Hailey and Alicia are still a bit shaken up and Jack's- he's spending his last moments with his wife and newborn daughter." James finally looked at his daughter, but wasn't that surprised to see the callousness within her hardened and tense features. It seemed to be a permanent facial expression for her lately. As if shedding a tear or sharing her personal grievances would be selfish. James his heart ached seeing her like this. Cristine was the one with the biggest heart. She was just an expert at shutting down her feelings when it mattered. Which didn't mean that it didn't hurt her or that she cared less. She cared more than most.

"How are you feeling Birdie?" Dark brown flickered and the twitch of her lips was the only sign that Cristine was suppressing her emotions. James softly continue, "it's alright to grieve-"

Cristine cut him off with a straightforward question, "how did the dead enter the camp daddy?"

James didn't miss a beat responding with an equal directness, "the militia hadn't reported a lot of activity from the dead coming north so we wanted to cover more ground. We split in smaller groups to-"

"Why?" Cristine cut him off a second time and removed the wet cloth from her father's lips. She was searching for her words from the way her facial expression shifted. The dent inside her brows pull together. Trying to make sense of his words and not coming to a logical conclusion. Cristine looked at her lap in thought before her eyes landed on him. "We have contingency plans in place for situations like this. It wasn't necessary to thin the militia out... the plans are here to make sure we get ready for evacuation. We don't engage with living or dead. We survive." Cristine squeezed the words through mouth as if they burned on her tongue. "We lost two of our own today," Cristine emphasized. "So I'll ask you again dad. How did the dead enter the camp?" Cristine tilted her head and there was a flicker of remorse in those blue eyes.

"You're still riled up from before Bird-"

"Don't." Cristine sneered, the words sounded patronizing through her ears. "Don't treat me like a weak little girl. I'm not your weak little Birdie. You never allowed me to be that, so don't start now. Not after what you allowed all those years." James sucked in a harsh breath at the severe words, like acid on his skin and a strong scratching over his heart.

"..." The fact that her father didn't have his response ready told Cristine more than enough. She saw his grimace when he grinded his molars and looked away. But doing that did little to distract James from Cristine's accusatory question.

"For the same reason you and Troy torture that man for answers." James clarified with a narrowing gaze. Cristine shook her head in slight disbelief and scoffed. The subtle tics of her father's eye twitching and roll of the tongue over his lips more noticeable to her.

"I didn't put our people in danger and got two of ours killed in the process because my feelings got hurt." Cristine hissed under her voice and jerked her arm from her father's strong grip, wincing at the force he put behind when he grabbed it. "You lost a fucking friend so what?! The world is gone to shit and the stakes are much higher than that."