Until the world falls apart - Fear The Walking Dead

XVIII-Murderer or not ?

A ray of sunlight pierced through the bedroom curtain, and it took me a few seconds to recall last night. As I turned my head, I saw Troy lying on his stomach, his hand resting on my thigh, his hair tousled. I decided to get up and splash some water on my face when I looked up and saw Troy standing behind me, his warm hands trailing over my bare stomach. He kissed me on the neck when suddenly someone knocked on the door. Feeling uneasy, I hid in the bathroom, and Troy threw my clothes at me to get dressed, a smirk playing on his lips. I recognized Jake's voice; I couldn't hear the conversation, but something seemed off. Once dressed, I headed towards the door, and as I saw Troy's belongings covered in dirt and fresh sand, it was strange, but I didn't dwell on it. I then left Troy's room, trying not to make too much noise, but a very familiar voice echoed. Alicia emerged from what seemed to be Jake's room, looking irritated, but I didn't yet know why. However, she gave me a mocking look, understanding the situation and where I was coming from, but she said nothing.

As Alicia left to find Jake, I crossed paths with my mother, who also seemed disturbed. I was about to ask her what was going on when I saw Gretchen's horse in the stable; I recognized it immediately, as I used to groom it every morning to help out. A strange feeling gripped my gut, as if I knew something bad had happened to them. They hadn't returned, hadn't changed their minds, and they wouldn't have left their horse like that. Unless something serious had happened to them, and I felt that it was the case. My mother briefed me on what she and Jeremiah thought. To prevent the story from spreading, our small group headed towards the road the Trimbols had taken. We were searching for something that could explain and give us clues about what had happened to the family. Nick and I were in the back of the pickup truck, my mother was driving, and Jeremiah was in the passenger seat.

"They might have let him go. It's a long journey; two horses require a lot of food and water," my mother said.

"They would have killed him if it was too much of a hassle for them," Jeremiah replied.

"He could have escaped."

"They're dead, I'm sure of it," he said bluntly. "Now it's just a matter of figuring out how it happened."

A little further down the road, the family's camper was there, riddled with bullets. We got out of the pickup to inspect the area. Jeremiah warned us to be careful because of potential dead bodies. He went into the caravan, and gunshots were heard, then he emerged.

"Is it Vernon?" I asked.

"And Cathy," he simply replied.

In the back of the van, a horse was being eaten by zombies, and I fired a shot towards Gretchen. She was Alicia's age; I owed her that much.

"Are you okay?" I asked my mother.

"He thinks it's Troy," Nick added.

"No, I don't think so," she replied.

"It can't be him," I said simply.

"And why not? Because you spent the night with him?"

"Shut up, Nick."

"That's enough!" my mother concluded.

"The Indians take everything; they took the helicopter and would have taken the horses," Nick said.

"I know, yes."

"There's enough supplies in the camper to last a week."

We didn't respond to Nick; my mother just covered the Trimbols' bodies and went towards Jeremiah. I don't know what they said to each other, but my mother never let anything show. Back at the ranch after the silent drive we had just experienced, we knew things were going to change, and not for the better. Troy and the others were standing there, waiting for us, all looking nervous about what they were going to discover. We all got out of the vehicle, and my mother opened the pickup truck's trunk without a word to show the corpses. The ranch residents were already scared, but now, it would be much worse. Many murmurs arose; they were all worried, and for once, so was I. I turned to Troy, but something was wrong, I knew it. I had gotten to know Troy since our arrival, and now, he was far too nervous. I hoped it wasn't him. I could have even prayed if I were a believer; I didn't want him to have done this, not like this, not for revenge. I knew him well, and I knew he had his demons, but I wanted to hear it from his mouth if he had anything to do with this.

"I'm sorry. They were good people. My family and I weren't prepared like you; we were strangers, and you welcomed us. Travis was killed by the same people who killed the outpost group, Walker's men who killed Vernon and his family. If you leave, you'll die. Walker goes as far as killing families to scare us," she declared.

The more she spoke, the more I realized that what she was saying didn't make sense. It wasn't Walker who had done this, though I would have preferred it to be. Troy's clothes full of sand and droplets of blood belonged to the family. And the worst part of all this was that I knew my mother inside out, consciously or not. She was the one who had sent Troy to kill them, to keep the population under her wing and her orders. To strengthen her position as a savior, but she was no hero. When I came to my senses, Troy was staring at me, as if he knew I had figured it out. How could he leave and kill an entire family without me realizing it? I had felt so safe and comfortable with him that I had slept like a baby. But evidently, he had decided otherwise. Alicia left first, and I followed closely. Troy grabbed my arm and whispered a semblance of an apology in my ear. But he didn't owe me an apology; it was to them. I was just disappointed and angry at his actions and how much my mother had him on a leash.

I was sitting on the steps of the cellar where the reserves were located; I had placed myself there to think, but I was quickly interrupted by the residents and their incessant comings and goings. My mother appeared quite quickly; she looked at me incredulously, as if nothing bothered her.

"That was quite impressive," I said.

"It was necessary."

"How can you tell such a big lie and sleep well at night? Seriously, how do you manage that?" I asked.

"I told the truth. No one is going to die, not tonight, not tomorrow, not for a long time. With Alicia and Nick, you are safe. I will sleep like a baby."

There was a silence, and then she spoke again.

"If we say it's Troy, no one will believe us, and besides, I think it suits you better for them to think it's Walker rather than your..."

I looked her straight in the eyes, and she managed to disgust me, with her twisted plans, her bullshit stories.

"You should have told me earlier."

"You would have said no."

"No, I understand, I hate the idea, but I understand. But be careful not to lose yourself; you're on a dangerous path, Mom. They would all be surprised to know what you've really done."

She called my name several times, but I didn't respond to any of her calls.

After my discussion with my mother, I sat down near a fence, gazing at the horizon. It would probably be the last time before much more serious problems arose. As if she were unaware, she had triggered a war that wasn't ours. Troy arrived shortly after, keeping a good distance from me, as if he were ashamed, and I hoped that was the case.

"I didn't go there to do that, I swear," he said in a low tone. "All I wanted was to talk, for him to look me in the eyes. I wanted him to face me like Vernon did with my father; he owed me that much."

"And he didn't want to do that, right? So you took it upon yourself to kill them?"

"He said things, and I did things, and it went wrong. It's not what you wanted to hear, huh?"

"I'm trying to understand you, Troy, but what do you think I feel when you do things like that? You killed them! And for what? For your ego?"

"It wasn't for my ego; I just wanted to talk to him, and I..."

"But how did you go from talking to killing? I don't understand. I'm trying, but I can't. Just when I think I know you, you do something that makes me think otherwise, and honestly, I'm lost here."

"Bella, I... it got out of hand, yes, but I didn't mean to!"

"But the problem with you, Troy, is that a slip-up can lead to murder! Do you think it's normal to kill innocent people like that? Do you think they deserved it? Do you think I want to wake up next to a murderer like that?"

He looked at me, lost, as if no words could come out of his mouth anymore, as if he only deserved that and was only good for that. It broke my heart, but at the same time, I couldn't condone such actions. My love for him might have blinded me to this, but my reason couldn't. I was now trapped between my heart and my reason, between him and my humanity.