Enemies

Chapter one

"I don't fucking care how! Fucking find that fucker!"  My dad's low, gruff, growl like yell resonated throughout the house.  I was in my room, working on my latest story laying on my stomach across my bed, writing by candlelight.  Granted, I could've turned on the light, we had a powerful generator, but somehow this was more fitting.

"Goddamn it Dwight, don't fucking talk back to me; round up your fucking men and fucking find him!"  I couldn't hear Dwight's response, but I heard the door shut, and then; silence.  I shut my journal and walked out into the living room.

Peaking around the corner I could see my dad sitting on the worn black leather sofa with his head in his hands.  Lucille was propped up against the mantle of the small fireplace.  My father's usually slicked back black hair now hung loosely in front of his hazel eyes, the streaks of gray making him look much older than 41.

"Dad? What's going on? Is everything ok?"  When he looked back up at me his eyes clouded over with kindness and paternal love, but there was also sadness, and worry living there.

"It's nothing Harley, go back to bed." His voice was tired, fatigued.

"I wasn't asleep anyway, I was writing, and its obviously not nothing."  I sat Indian style on the floor in front of him, forcing him to look at me.

"Damn it, Harley I said it was nothing." He snipped, and rose up from the couch, walking away.  I felt my own anger bubble.

"Oh yea, because I scream and cuss in the middle of the night all the damn time." My voice was sharp, dripping with attitude and sarcasm.  He spun on his heels and pointed at me, full on parent mode.

"Watch your fucking mouth!" Had his tone not been so serious, and his voice not risen to the level just below a yell, I would've found the irony in this funny, but right now?  It just pissed me off more.

"As if you have any room to talk, mister every other word I say is 'fuck', and in case you missed it, just in case you haven't fucking noticed, the whole world has gone to shit! A 'potty mouth' should be the least of your concerns."

"You think I don't fucking know that Harley? What? Do you think somehow the dead not dying has somehow slipped under my radar?  I'm trying to keep you safe, and maintain some kind of normality in your life!"

"Normality? You think this shit is normal? You took a bat, wrapped it in barbed wire and named it after mom. We're about as far from 'normal' as we can get.  And trying to keep me safe? That's a goddamn joke! I'm behind these walls 24/7 and what happens when they fall? What happens if one day" my voice cracked and tears stung the back of my hazel eyes.  My dad's eyes. "what happens if one day you're not here anymore? What happens when I lose you too?"  I covered my lower face with my hand and looked up to the ceiling in an attempt to hold back tears.  It didn't work.  "And don't-" my voice cracked once more "don't tell me I won't lose you too. I'm not stupid enough to believe it."  And with that, I lost it; and tears fell down my face relentlessly.  My dad wrapped me in a hug, and I hugged back, my face pressed to his black motorcycle jacket, and let the tears fall as he smoothed my unmanageable red hair; my mother's hair, and shushed me.  His tough guy demeanor completly melted away and was replaced by the kind, loving side of him only my mother and I got to see.

Once I finally calmed down he sighed, and let out a bittersweet chuckle.  "You're too damn smart for your own good, you know that?" I smiled and laughed slightly through the tears.  "I miss when you were little.  I remember you running through the house, your red Pebbles hair, tied up on top of your head like a waterfall bouncing with each little step you took.  You were running around cussing up a goddamn storm.  You had me rolling on the floor, laughing so damn hard I was crying.  You're mom was yelling at me 'Negan' she'd tell me 'it's not funny, what if she goes around school talking like that' but she could hardly finish her sentence before she burst out laughing too."  We both smiled, a sad smile at the mention of my late mother.  A smile reminiscent of better times.  The story I had heard so many times wrapped around me, swaddled me in comfort and peace.  "But you're right.  You're not a kid anymore, and this world isn't safe.  I'm not gonna be there for everything, and keeping you sheltered from this world? Hell I might as well shot you myself for all the good it's gonna do you." He sighed once more  "one of the groups was going to hilltop, intercepted a fucking van.  The people in it did not play fucking nice.  Killed all the men but one, to deliver a message."  His cold chuckle would've been to send chills down anyone's spine.  "Fucker said that he and his people were gonna protect hilltop now; told us for half our shit, he'd protect us too." Dad shook his head in disbelief.  "Can you believe the fucking balls on this prick?  I got Dwight tracking that fucker down now.  It won't be too long before we find them."

"Dad?"

"Yea kid?"

"Can I help?"

"Now why the fuck else would I tell you? So you can sit on your ass? Hell no! Time for you to get used to the real world."