Alone

Chapter: 10 // six feet under •

I couldn't have felt any more worse as I stood next to Gabriel and Carl, squeezing the pistol so tight my knuckles turned white, my arms taut from keeping them above my ribcage for so long. I couldn't have felt any more worse when we took the guns, when we left all those women and young girls defenseless and abashed. I have never taken anything from anyone that they didn't need, I wouldn't so as to take a crumb from somebody's plate if I knew they were starving.

But it was the right thing to do, at least this is what everyone's been telling me. My only motivation to continue is for my people.

That starts with picking off the Saviors one by one and ends hopefully with them too. If we can bring the world back to civilization even for a while, then we've won.

After we load the truck with the guns, Carl unexpectedly pulls me aside against the truck, my shirt in his fist. I breathe heavily as my heart pounds with the force of a stampede of elephants in my chest.

"Carl," I gasp, my sweaty palms sliding down the truck. "What did you see out there?" He questions seriously, as if I'm hiding something from everyone.

My parents.

"It doesn't matter."

"They died,"

"They gave up. A friend of mine was killed by a Savior."

"You bury your folks?"

"Yeah,"

"What's in your pocket?" I dig out the note in my pocket from my parents, dried blood and tears stained on it. I bite my cheek before ultimately handing it over, he reads it for a pretty minute and I watch his lips twitch.

"I'm sorry." He sighs, and then tucks it in his back Jean pocket. My eyebrows pinch together and a fiery feeling burns in my chest. "No no no, what are you doing, that's mine!" I yell, and he grabs my shoulders gently, his body towering over me.

"You have something that belongs to me. So I'm taking this from you." His hot breath fans across my face, I lick my lips and try not to look at or think about his.

"Like what?" I roll my eyes.

"Did you have to take them out?"

"No."

"Did you look at their faces?"

"Mm,"

"What's this?" He fingers the bullets on the necklace I made.

"The thing that killed my parents."

"No. Your parents killed your parents."

"They're still dead and I'm not. What do I have that's yours?"

"Are you okay?" His ocean eyes bore into my boring brown ones, making me physically weak in the knees. I want to cave in, kiss him, but Enid's around. Probably watching.

"We should go," my voice cracks, I quickly climb in the car and slam the door on him. Enid stares at the side of my head as I try to keep it together, but she can even see I'm going fall apart.

"Look, I don't care how mad we are at each other, I'm still here. Whenever you're ready to talk." She says, and I nod against the window, my eyes shut so I can't cry.

"I know. Me too."

Just then, Jesus slips in the passenger seat in front of me and I blush as we make eye contact when he glances behind him, "hi," I softly whisper, my pulse pounding heavily.

"Can we talk later on?" He asks, and I feel like I have no choice. "Yeah."

...

"Hi," I tap Jesus on the shoulder from behind him, he snaps his neck towards me and blinks fast, "hmm?" He moans. I fold my hands in my lap.