𝙵𝙻𝙴𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙴 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙾 𐂃

Chapter 39

"Why not!? I want to help!" Hailey snapped back in a heated tone. Her anger flared some more when Cristine and her father all but ignored her. They were treating her like a child and it wasn't fair. Biting hard into the plump flesh of her lower to stop it from quivering, she stood in front of the door, barricading the front door of her and their parent's cabin.

"We discussed this Hailey." James shook his head.

"No you told me I can't sign up for the militia when we obviously need the manpower. Cristine is going. This is bullshit!" Her nostrils flared angrily. After the horrific reveal that Mike and his family were murdered in cold blood, it changed the course for everyone. No one was even thinking of leaving. Fear for Walker and the Nation turned into vengeful ire and made it clear they were safer and much stronger when together. There wasn't any news from Jake even when the community returned to Broke Jaw Ranch, but the Indians were on a warpath and no one was going out until absolutely necessary. Hailey wanted to fight too and get revenge for Mike if it was the last thing she'd do.

"Watch your mouth young lady." Dolores piped up from behind the coffee table. Worry seemed to be her permanent expression lately and it was understandable. So much violence and death had surrounded them in the span of five days. Of course she wasn't used to any of this and knowing she and her family were at the top of a kill list didn't help either. So hearing her only child act out like this and demanding to fight, Dolores had enough. "You will do no such thing! Your place is to stay here and do your part behind the walls."

Hailey winced, but didn't back down. "I know how to use a gun and know where to strike an infected! I'm not some damsel and I refuse to wait around like some coward-"

"Enough!" James roared, making everyone in the room jump from his thundering voice. Hailey remained planted against the door, Dolores her eyes were wide and Cristine moved her tense jaw back and forth. This argument grew from a breeze into a full-blown tornado. The words spoken by Hailey were well-intended for the situation, but they provoked James his usual patient side that originated from fear for his family's safety. The wood under James' boots creaked as he shifted and hoisted the sports bag with guns on his shoulder. The harshness inside his eyes sharpened when laying eyes on his youngest, and equally as stubborn as his oldest, daughter. His mouth tightened with a tense over-protectiveness that Hailey didn't always see him show Cristine. Why was her father treating her like some weak and frail child?

"That's the end of this," James hissed, pupils dilating and shutting down any form of resistance from Hailey.

Cristine knew Hailey had toughened up considerably. Teaching Hailey everything she needed to know in the infirmary and she even taught her how to kill an infected. It was mostly how to get herself out of a sticky situation, how to think ahead and fool people into thinking she wasn't a threat. But Cristine knew that, outside of the safety of the ranch, her baby sister wouldn't make it with how easily she let her emotions get the best of her. Not without her, her father, and this place still standing. She and their father would protect them.

"This is a one-time thing for me Hailey," Cristine added to even out the tension and her sister's misconception that she was joining the militia any time soon to go outside and fight. "I swapped some of my shifts with you and Alicia so I can help train the new recruits. We're short a few hands and I've done it before. Besides, the three of us need to be ready at the infirmary for anything at any time. That's our job."

-

It felt like forever since Cristine last moved between the militia. She counted all the new and old faces that volunteered. They were either practicing on the shooting range with a bow or rifle under tutelage of Coop and Blake. Others were taught the basic hand to hand skills with knifes, machetes and whatever sharp objects by Jimmy and Joe. Men and women alike signed up. It was a mixture of younger and older. Correcting her worn out cap to shield her frowning eyes from the glaring sun, Cristine her emotions were grim. While this was exactly what they needed, this only happened because of the gruesome deaths of the Trimbols. They had the memorial service and burial on the exact day their caravan returned to Broke Jaw Ranch. A few hours later, everyone went back to their routines and used their grief and anger to strengthen the militia, the infirmary, defenses and continue with the regular chores.