𝙵𝙻𝙴𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙴 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙾 𐂃

Chapter 33

Blake watched Cristine wash her hands and clean her knife. She hadn't said much after putting Jack down. Hadn't said much to him about anything really. With everything fucked and them at a disadvantage cause of Jake's stunt to open a parley with the Nation, they were packing. There was also division in camp between who wanted to flee or stay. Shifting on his feet with purpose, making his boots scrape over the dusty ground, Blake tried to garner Cristine's attention with sound. Why was there this sudden... wall between them?

"What do you think will happen?" Blake asked.

Cristine paused, but didn't turn. She simply rubbed the back of her head, stretched her neck muscles and sighed. "We go back to the Ranch. Regroup. Wait for news from Jake. Nothing else we can do." After cleaning, she laid the knife back inside the leather casing and crossed the area where some medical supplies were and silently began to put them away.

"That's it?" Blake asked, confused by her lack of reaction. "You're not pissed about this? The plan got fucked, our people are divided, and some are leaving. Vernon was clearly using all of this as a chance to cause problems and pull people to his side. It leaves us more vulnerable with a quarter running away. Mike can't even pick up his balls like a man and talk to anyone."

"Well we can't stop them and they won't change their minds." Cristine dropped one of the scalpels back onto the trays and shrugged with vexation. She then raked her fingers through her curls and added, "a lot of stuff is already fucked by people doing whatever the hell they want. Two of us died as a result of that."

"We couldn't have known Cristine-"

"Cut the bullshit Blake!" Cristine's accusation was sharp and she finally turned to look at him. Her mouth was pulled back, her eyes glowed angrily and the suppressed anger rolled from her body in waves. She shook her head and a cynical smile crept on her full lips, "thinning out the militia to cover more ground. Really? Purposely leaving the blinds pots and the camp exposed like that? What the hell were you thinking? Going along with my dad and his bullshit idea?" Blue-eyes wide, body tensing and breath stuck in his throat. Cristine didn't give him time to recover cause she was in his face before he knew it. She saw him swallow and waited for him to say something, anything that justified putting them in danger. "Yeah, I know."

Blake sucked his lips in and looked at the space between them for a few seconds, unable to keep eye contact with her. His and Cristine's friendship was build on blunt truth. No matter the grouch she could be, they could actually be honest with the other. Inhaling his face went tight, a combination of grim determination and doggedness. "I followed orders Cristine."

"Yeah?" Her question was more mocking than needing an actual answer. Cristine expected a bullshit response and she shook her head from side to side, disappointed with Blake. "The classic Nuremberg defense... Don't be so predictable and hide behind a rationalization you know doesn't hold value."

"For you maybe." Blake's answered defensively, his eyes sharpening with his tune. The cryptic and judgmental jab raised his defenses. He wasn't going to apologize for doing his job or look back and regret it. "For the militia it does. You think there wouldn't be any sacrifices once we started all this?"