𝙵𝙻𝙴𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙴 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙾 𐂃

Chapter 60

The party returned in the middle of the night. The rush of adrenaline still hung in the air as Troy and the others parked their vehicles. Some were injured, but most were fine. James ordered for a debrief. Even those who weren't on the mission looked flushed and packed with vigor over the success. Jeremiah was nowhere to be seen still, but James was more willing to take this temporarily leadership role upon himself. The Survivalist were libertarians and usually didn't like to be told what to do, but when it came to times of crisis, all humans, even the Survivalists by default looked for a leader to guide them. James as one of the last Founding Fathers and the Otto's were the ones everyone looked to fulfill that role. Gathered near their open mess hall, Troy disclosed tonight's events, "we got to most of their fighters. They're probably just finished clearing the dead. The real damage will be when their injured turn. They won't know what hit them once the night passed. I reckon they'll be too busy putting down their own down and licking their wounds than focus on us for the time being," Troy reported.

"Good. That leaves us plenty of time to regroup and prepare for the second wave." James glanced down at the map on the middle of the table. His statement surprised majority of the people present and auspicious glances were exchanged until Madison voiced most their question.

"Second wave?" She inquired and shot James a puzzled expression, "we're attacking again?"

"They're weak and vulnerable," James answered, voice cool and tapped on a specific point on the map. "Best to end all of this indefinitely, especially with them distracted. There is a way we can come out victorious. I like those odds."

"We should negotiate," Jake piped up. The frown on his face grew. He didn't realize James wanted to plan another attack. "We lost people on both sides... knowing Walker he'll choose his people over more bloodshed. He's lost as many fighters as we have.. the Nation is as vulnerable as we are."

"No." James his voice was clipped as he shook his head, barely sparing Jake a glance. His blue eyes glared at the map, the ire tethered at his fingertips but it was perfectly wrapped in a box and stored for later use. James was a patient man and his anger would only explode when he'd let it. "He won't. You don't know how Walker thinks... what drives him. I'm not going to risk our people- my family again on the whims of a man who keeps killing us. It's us or them. We've talked enough and lost too much. We're not doing this again."

"My father won't-"

"Your father and I talked when the militia was out. He'll die for this place before making deals with Walker and he's right." It was as if James was already several steps ahead of Jake's protest, so when Otto sr. was mentioned a terse silence hung in the air for a few seconds. "I understand the need for peace Jake, but we will never be able to set our differences aside and live peacefully. I gave up on that ever since they got to Phil and Vernon."

"The Tribe was packing to leave the Reservation." Troy was on James' side and barely spared his older brother a glance, arms crossed and looked at the older man, nodding in agreement. "Walker was definitely going to attack while we were down and recovering from the anthrax attack. No point begging for peace or surrender now that we're this far and have a chance of winning. I agree with James."

Cristine watched Jake's body slump, his already sickly pale face twitching with horror. After passing her many moral thresholds, Cristine's ability to care or feel sick about her actions began to dwindle. Reaching this point. Talking to Madison. Confessing to Troy. It all made Cristine finally realize why her father never worried about her as much. Why he was always more concerned about Hailey and Dolores. She inherited this side him. A side he, in her opinion, masterfully hid. Even from her. A side the Ranch desperately needed to win. It was just that this side of her father reverted him into an unpredictable and relapsing drunk. "Me too," Cristine voiced her agreement. She wasn't going to make the same mistake again. The time of talk was long over and the violence wasn't going to stop until one side was down. That side wasn't going to be them. Cristine made eye contact with her father. His quick, appreciative glance bright inside his piercing gaze. Moving her eyes from one pair of blue to the other, she gestured at the map with her head. "We won't have any more chances after this. I'd say is offense is the best defense."