Abigails Sin

Rachel Jessop

The rain pounded against the thin glass windshield in a thunderous rhythm. The only accompanying sounds were the hum of the engine and my rapid breathing. Faith's head leaned against her seatbelt, head bobbing when the tire under her went through potholes in the old road. I was driving over the speed limit but there was no one around to stop me. My foot felt heavier, like I couldn't ease up on the gas pedal even if I wanted to. My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly I was afraid I might never be able to unclench them.

"They'll kill me you know" her voice was quiet in my right ear

"they won't kill you" I said through gritted teeth. I knew none of this was Faith's fault that she was just as much or maybe even more of a pawn than I was but my anger was like a whip lashing out if different directions. "The only one who might remember who you are is Matthew but he'll go along with whatever lie I say" I glanced over to her "we'll need something to call you until we have privacy to talk to Matthew alone"

"Rachel Jessop" she spoke without hesitation. I looked over at her, somewhat startled.

"okay Rachel, whatever I say just nod your head and go along with it" I reluctantly pulled my foot up to ease on the gas when I saw the neon pink and blue sign hovering above the door to the Spread Eagle. The streets were deserted, the storm must have people hiding inside for now or maybe it was just the world we lived in now. I squinted through the heavy water running down the windshield to pull over directly beside the bar. Faith looked over to me, her round eyes were even wider like a deer in headlights.

"Come on" I pried my fingers off the steering wheel and slammed my shoulder into the door to open it. The rust creaking loud enough to be heard over the rain slamming the pavement. Faith followed behind me very closely, shielding herself from the other bar goers with my body. The smell of liquor and wood hit you like a wall as soon as the door opened. It was packed, packed for the apocalypse anyway. Most of the tables were filled and Mary was sliding beer bottles down the wooden table as if nothing had changed. It was very dimly lit, only a few of the lights were still working. The juke box lit up in the corner gave off the only colourful light in the entire room. Leaving us to stand in a mostly orange haze. Her eyes latched onto me through the crowd and I gave her a warm smile. She threw her dish cloth over her shoulder as she came out from behind the bar to greet me. Strong arms encircling my shoulders

"you're alive" her voice was hushed. I could hear the desperation in her tone

"barely" I gave her a half smirk "uh this is Rachel, I've been staying with her up in the woods"

"why? why didn't you come back?" she asked

"I was worried Jacob was tracking me and I didn't want to bring danger back with me, not to all of you"

"you scared the shit outta us" his hand smacked my back lightly making me jump forwards to almost bump heads with Mary

"Nick don't sneak up on a girl like that" Mary hissed in his general direction. Sure enough Nick Rye was beaming down at me, all smiles and a beer in his hand. A shirt advertising his company 'Rye and Son's' clearly printed on his faded black t-shirt.

"scared the shit outta you? what about me?" I tried to laugh but it came off shaky.

"I was just going up to see your brother" his bearded chin jerked in the direction of the upstairs rooms

"upstairs?" I gave Mary a questioning look

"we turned one of the spare bedrooms into a sort of meeting place" a look crossed her face when she realized what I must have been thinking. Blush coming to her cheeks as she turned around determined for me not to see it. Faith and I followed Nick up the stairs, leaving the old country music and bar chatter below us. I turned to make sure Faith was still following me, she was gazing around wildly as we walked, her eyes scanning every object in her field of view. Must have been what I first looked like when I woke up in Johns Cabin. The sounds below us were now a distant hum. Nick walked down the hall and took the first door to his right. An old wooden door painted white that was starting to peel off in flakes. He pushed the door open and light flooded the hallway. A brighter white light. This room had much better lighting than the downstairs. A bed sat against the flower painted wall under a window. Everything was pushed aside hastily to make room for a large table covered in papers and maps. The side walls were now home to guns leaning here and there, medical supplies, and bullet proof vests. Matthew stood at the table, knuckles pressed into it where he leaned forward gazing down at a map with a puzzled expression on his face. Brows furrowed in concentration. A steaming coffee had been knocked over directly beside him, the remains of it dripping down onto the floor but he didn't seem to notice.