Fighting For America

Part 11 (Chapter Fifty-Nine - Epilogue)

Chapter Fifty-Nine

The Rebels are Coming, the Rebels are Coming

I heard Camdyn crying and pulled myself into a sitting position on the cot, wincing.  

I looked at the wound on my stomach and saw that the redness was spreading and there was even more bruising around the cut.  Streching my legs, I moved to stand so I could pick up my daughter, but my wounded abdomen would not let me stand.  I fell as soon as I rose to a full upright position because the pain was so bad.  There was no trash can in the room, so I supressed the nausea that came with the pain until I could make it to the toilet across the room.

The toilet was cordoned off with collapsable room dividers.  I guess the people watching my through the cameras all day weren't interested in that part of my life.  When I got the the toilet I wretched violently.  When I was finished I tried to stand and was hit with the nausea again.  I sat by the toilet for probably ten minutes, but it seemed like hours.

When finally all I could do was dry heave, I managed to scoot myself out from behind the partition and attempted to crawl back to where my baby was.  She had stopped crying after a few minutes so I had assumed she hadn't been ready to wake up in the first place and had gone back to sleep.

I had never been more wrong.

There, holding my baby was the man I hated the most in this world.

"Johnathan, please, put her down," I pleaded.  I know I sounded pathetic, buy I was trying to do so many things at once that my injured body just couldn't keep up.  I was trying not to cry, trying not to panic, trying to move, and trying to sound brave.

"Oh, Madi, you don't look so good," Johnathan smirked.  "It just so happens that I was watching the cameras this morning and heard the very loud, very annoying screams of our child.  You weren't tending to her, so like the true father I am, I decided to comfort my daughter.  You should be ashamed Madi, dear, for letting our baby cry so.  Only bad mothers let their babies cry."

I felt like Johnathan had just stabbed me again, this time in my heart.  I felt bad for letting my daughter cry, I really did, but she had only cried for about five minutes so I thought she was finished.  Besides, I was sitting with my head in a toilet because of pain caused by the knife wound Johnathan had given me.  I was a good mother.  No one was going to tell me differently.

"My daughter was crying because every time I try to move I get nauseated and have to vomit.  Now, unless you want me to hold my baby by her neck like a cat and crawl to the bathroom only for her to watch my puke my guts out, the stroller seemed like the best bet.  And for your information, I am a great mother.  She was only crying for so long because her supposed father tried to kill her mother and left behind an infected knife wound!  Now, give. Me. My. Baby." I enunciated each word heavily for effect.

"Oh, Madi," he said sadistically while stroking the downy softness of my sweet Camdyn's hair.  "Madi, Madi, Madi, I wish I had killed you.  Then I could have my baby all to myself.  Unfortunately, the powers that be do not want me messing with their plans, and if I mess with their plans, I will be out of a job.  Besides, I am still her father.  I don't care if that idiot son of Mitch Harper's pretends to be.  I am this baby's father! She is mine as you are mine!"

I heard the possessiveness seep into Johnathan's voice as his arms encircled even tighter around Camdyn.  I had to do something.  I had to protect my daughter from being to close to Johnathan when he eventually reached his breaking point.  "Johnathan, can you just give her to me, please?"  I pleaded with him knowing that if I pretended to be submissive he was more likely to give into my demands.  "I just want to make sure that she is okay.  Will you do that?  Will you let me hold her?  Then, I promise, we can talk."