Martial Law - The Tale of Samuel Turner

Chapter Three

Chapter Three -

I told her everything. God I haven't vented in a while. I told her about my childhood, my family, Phenix, everything but my last name. It felt nice, human interaction. I used to take it for a grain of salt but I really miss it now. I miss my old life, my old family. But I'll never get it back.

We've made it a little over halfway to Atlanta, we decided to stop in Louisiana at a few colonies that have been popping up every now and then. Apparently, the people who used to live here wanna keep the Louisiana culture alive. There are hundreds of communities or “colonies” that people have set up across the states. Some seen modern, restaurants, homes, trading outposts, but others are a little less welcoming. Others go solo, like I did until I decided Rachell might be of use.

We stopped right in front of an old looking home named “Big Joe's Crawdad Shack” and honestly I could use come home cooking right about now. There second we step in, the glares of people drilled into the back of my head. Obviously they're not used to outsiders. We had a seat at a booth next to a window that overlooks a river, the waitress gave Rachell and I both sweet tea and our menus. Almost everything but sandwiches had crawfish, thank God I don't have my dad's allergy to shellfish. I thought I'd treat myself to a home-style BLT and a bucket of steamed crawfish, Rachell decided to share the bucket, I may have a pot for a stomach but it can't hold a bucket of them things.

As our food arrived, I could feel Rachell looking at me, not full on, bit questioning me

“May I help you” I ask, she shakes her head back to reality and looks me in the eyes

“Hmm? Oh sorry you just remind me of someone” she pulls the tail off a crawfish and begins eating

“Mind if I ask who?” I take a bite of my BLT, softly moaning into the food

“Just an ex from high school, that's all”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, he was just a lot like you from what I can tell”

Within seconds, my tea was gone and an ice cube in my mouth “well, you never know, it's a small world”

“I guess so” she responded, her chocolate brown hair covering half her face

“Since I told you everything about me there is to know” I search through my bag for a few count of gold and lay them on the table “tell me some things about yourself”

“Well, My name's Rachell Wood, I lived in Dublin Ireland before I moved to the U.S. with my mom. I lost my mom back in ‘10 while we were looking for supplies. Bombers came by and leveled the area, regardless if people were there or not.”

I could hear the pain in her voice, the sorrow about to spill as tears. That memory replays in her head like it was yesterday, list like it does to me. I didn't know how to respond, how to react to her pain. I usually turn it into anger, go out and find whomever I can tag with my gun. I get up from my seat, holding my hand out to help her up. Thanks second her hand touches mine, a cold wave shoots through my arm and down my spine. Jesus her hands were cold. I could see a soft smile on her face, and probably a giggle too.

“We need to get your cold ass a pair of mittens” we both laugh, heading out of the crawfish joint and to the car. Remember when I said I missed my old life? Yeah, I mean I do, I miss my family, friends, everything. But there's something calming about doing what you want when you want now with a “partner in crime”.

“Sam?” I looked over at Rachell. The glove compartment was open and pictures were in her hand, her thumb running over the edges.

“Those are um..old pictures of my family. The short one with curly brown hair and bright blue eyes is my sister. I'm the slightly taller one with the black hair.”

“You had black hair?” She looks over at me, her eyes fixated on my hair”

“Yeah, I used to hate my natural color. Still do. I'd go as far as go into a militarized zone just for a bottle of dye”

I heard her chuckle, her face switching to a paralyzed stare “Is..is that your dad?”

I look over to see the tall, long haired, bearded man in military fatigues and his green beret on his head. “Yeah, don't worry he was on our side. Before Phenix came around.” he had his arm around me in the picture. I'd just shot my first bullseye with his clock when I was six. He was so damn proud that he wanted to take a picture, and my father loathed pictures.

“Your mom's so pretty” I looked next to my dad and saw her. Long brown curly hair, Tiny yet fierce. She was 5’4 unlike my dad who was 6’3. She had a baby in her arms, wrapped up in a pink blanket with a pacifier. Apparently I was so lost in thought I didn't realize my eyes were peeing tears.

“Sam..I'm sorry.” She put the pictures away and stared at her lap. I wipe my face onto my shirt and clear my throat, starting the car to break the silence

“It's fine, just haven't seen those in a while” I force a smile on my face, hoping she'd think it was genuine.

“Now c'mon, Let's hit Atlanta.”

((Sorry about the short chapter, I didn't have time last night and won't today to get it out, but I promise Chapter 4 will be longer! 😘😘))