Troubles | TROY OTTO |

Chapter Eleven

Time has always toyed with her since she was young.  Mostly, it would rush by - rising sun turning to sparkling darkness in the blink of an eye.  But when the land shrouded in shadows, it would crawl slowly - as if it wasn't moving at all.  Ella found herself trapped in time's familiar web, waiting impatiently for it to move on.  Her afternoon had bled agonizingly slow, incessant worry refusing to leave her regardless of how many times she shifted through inventory with useless hope of distraction.

Troy had said he would take care of the current problem her silly warning had created - the Clarks and the plan neither Troy nor Ella had any knowledge of.  There is a sickening twist of relief and fear all at once.  She couldn't help but wonder what he meant by his proclamation, but she was certain it would be nothing good.  Ella had made a mistake - one that would likely cost the lives of the small family.  Guilt threatens her, nipping at her heels each time she runs to find a new distraction from her woes.

Truthfully, she hadn't meant for her whispered statement to the Clark children to be seen like a threat, but a cautionary reminder.  Troy is playing nice at the bidding of his father, but the second the trio displayed any hostility, he would surely spin it to the bidding of ridding the ranch of their presence.  After all, they weren't winning any popularity contest - not when so many blamed them for thr unfortunate accident that took Charlene's life.

These revelations plague her every move, dragging time to a virtual halt.  With no injuries and no true purpose in the infirmary, Ella has found herself fidgetting uncomfortably in the burning sun alone.  Troy was busy flitting between armory, pantry, reserve, and vehicles in preparation for the mission bestowed upon him by Jeremiah.  Likely, she wouldn't see him that night, either.  The man was critical and cautious.  He'd check over the needs of their trip ten times over before he was satisfied.  After all, his men were his priority - including those that needed to be found.  He would be meticulous about supplies before retiring to his own home to prevent distraction - because that's what Ella was to him:  a beautiful breath of air that reminded him not everything had to be about gaining the favor of his disinterested father.  Troy couldn't afford that right now.

Left to her own devices, Ella shuffles down familiar beaten paths, greeting each and every person who graces her on her adventure.  Some - like sweet, old Russell - stop to chat with her mindlessly, not used to her wandering away from the infirmary in the middle of the day.  Others - like Vernon Trembol - toss a wave in her direction as they pass.  It's those moments that make her realize how dulled her life has become since Charlene had left.  Ella no longer had a best friend to preoccupy her when Troy became too absorbed in his personal aspirations to get Jeremiah Otto's seal of approval.  Gretchen would be a decent option, but the teenager was currently attentive to Alicia Clark, leaving her out of consideration for the time being.

Her feet pause at the top of the hill as she watches people bustle at community chores below - distant figures buzzing in all directions.  Questionable opinions and morals aside, the bond of Broke Jaw Ranch was something to be revered.  It was a carefully woven image of perfection - the ideal ways of community.  It's not a thought she ever considered when she was a teenager.  At best, it was more of a cult than anything else.  Even now, technically, despite her becoming fond of everyone as she had grown older.  Still, they were the family she didn't have and part of her was thankful for her father dragging her here, even if she hated it at first.

Someone shuffles to a stop beside her relaxed figure.  The silence isn't disrupted until Ella turns her head to see Nick standing there.  Nerves gleam in the brown gaze of the nurse, but she smiles sweetly at him like she always does.  He may not like her anymore (as far as she knows) but she couldn't change the way she interacted with him.  She liked him.  He reminded her of Troy: a beast wearing the skin of a man, hoping to go unnoticed in its hibernation.  But they always come out - whether or not you want them to.

Nick meets her gaze with his own, lips pressed together.  His hands are stuffed casually in his pockets, but his spine is stiff - clearly unsure of how to proceed.  Ella made him comfortable and reassured; even now, when he knows that she knows.  He should be disgusted with her for not stopping Troy, but he isn't.  She saved Luciana when Troy had refused and clearly cared for each individual rancher on the land.  Despite being guilty by association in the eyes of Alicia, Ella was a good person.  Maybe that's why he convinced his sister now to mention Ella's knowledge to their mother.  He didn't know what Madison would do if she knew, but he didn't want Ella to suffer the consequences of her inaction.  Alicia hadn't been happy about it, but agreed for now.

"We didn't tell our mom."

If Ella is surprised, she doesn't show it.  Nick can see why some of the ranchers are unnerved by the girl, truly.  It was hard to understand what she was thinking, the same series of expressions fixated on her features.

"He won't hurt her unless she gives him a reason to," Ella offers in response.  "This is his home.  He's okay if there's nothing threatening it."

Nick nods in understanding, sweeping his eyes over the ranch while she continues looking at him.  They land on Troy hovering by a truck, neck craned in the direction of the figures on the hill.  It makes Nick nervous to see the squinted stare in their direction, but maybe it was nothing but the harsh sun to blame.  Lips part to huff an absurd laughter, knowing it was more than just the sun.  He was too close to Troy's prized possession and subtly shifting further away only subsided the glare slightly.  The Otto didn't trust any of the Clarks around Ella - friendship declared or not.

"I think it's you he's more concerned about."

Ella's gaze travels to the new object of Nick's attention, observing her lover from afar.  Mike and Cooper shove each other near him, mouths moving in an argument that Troy doesn't acknowledge.  The corners of her lips tilt into a dazzling smile that Nick catches from the corner of his eye.  He can't seem to share the fondness the girl has for the militiamen.

"Isn't that the same thing?"  She muses with a hum.  "The people here...that's what makes it home, right?"

Baffled, Nick twists to gape at her response.  There is an affectionate softness lighting her flushed cheeks and he's not sure the cause of it: the man at the bottom of the hill lifting his hand in a small wave or the unexpected confession of her appreciation for this place and its people.

"It's beautiful."

There's something about the way she says it - the certainty and sincerity of her words - that makes him believe it.  With newfound eyes gifted by the radiant girl beside him, he looks to the gated community again.  He sees Jeremiah, Vernon, and Russel at the picnic table; three distinctly different men turning red in the face as they laughed at some unheard joke.  He sees the little girl chasing a boy bigger than her with a stick wielded like a sword, ready to defend herself in an imaginary battle he couldn't understand.  He even sees Mike pulling Troy into a loose chokehold, trying to bring him down to his level - and Troy lets him with a roll of his eyes before Blake says something that makes both Troy and Mike join forces and turn against him.  He doesn't see a prison of corrupt ideas or the desperation of returning to the traditional world that was lost to the undead.  Instead, there is nothing but opportunity...and hope.

Suddenly, Nick isn't so sure about leaving with Luciana anymore.

Unedited.