Cutting Losses

Chapter 3

Bill awoke with a sharp inhale, his body tensing before his mind fully caught up. Instincts honed from years in combat jolted him awake, his hand already hovering near his rifle before he realized where he was. He exhaled slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the safe room. Francis was still there, sitting near the door, keeping watch like he said he would. The biker’s back was to him, but Bill could see the tension in his posture, the way Francis was gripping his gun just a little too tight.

Bill rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn as he stretched his stiff limbs. It was clear Francis hadn’t moved much, probably hadn’t even rested. Bill’s heart ached for a moment, seeing how much the man was trying, how he was bearing the weight of everything even if he didn’t know how.

He slowly got to his feet, wincing as his joints protested the movement, and made his way over to where Francis was. “Go get some rest, kid,” Bill said, his voice low but carrying the weight of the order. “I’ll take over.”

Francis grunted in response, but didn’t move right away. Instead, he kept his gaze on the door, as if he was reluctant to let go of the responsibility. Bill knew that feeling all too well.

Just as Bill was about to press the issue, Francis finally shifted. He stood up, turning to face Bill with a tired but determined look. Before Bill could move to take his spot, Francis placed a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him. There was a gravity in Francis’s touch, a rare moment where he wasn’t joking or deflecting with sarcasm.

“We made it this far, man,” Francis muttered, his voice quiet but steady. “Louis and Zoey... they’d want us to keep going. To finish this.” He swallowed, glancing away for a moment before meeting Bill’s gaze again. “We need a plan. We’re gonna make one after I rest, alright? We’re gonna figure this out.”

Bill stood there, his throat tight as he listened. The words hit him hard, not because he didn’t know them to be true, but because it was the same thing he had been telling himself since the second Zoey was gone. He had seen so many people lost in his time, so many faces that would never come back, but Louis and Zoey... They were different. They were part of his team, his family.

Bill stayed silent for a moment, his emotions churning just beneath the surface. But when he looked at Francis, really looked at him, he saw the same pain, the same exhaustion, the same determination to keep going. It was the only thing keeping them both on their feet.

Finally, Bill gave a silent nod, a small acknowledgment of what Francis was trying to say. He didn’t have the words, not now, but he appreciated the effort. It was enough for now.

Francis gave Bill’s shoulder a brief squeeze before stepping past him, making his way to the corner where Bill had been resting earlier. As he lay down, Bill settled into his spot near the door, taking up watch as Francis had done before. His eyes scanned the room, the streets outside, but his mind was elsewhere.