Broken

Chapter 32

We changed our course and followed Patch out of Atlanta. The trip had been fairly silent. Patch was walking by himself in the front, while Seth and I took up the rear. Charles and Hank were whispering to each other as Mary Grace strayed to the side of the road. Seth took a step closer to me.

"What do you think about Patch?" he said in his usual quiet voice.

I was a bit surprised with his question. I had just assumed we were going to let him in, no questions asked. But obviously everyone was doubting him, except for me. I shrugged.

"I think he's broken," I said slowly.

Seth nodded. "Yes, he is."

"Why do you ask?"

Seth watched Patch as he kicked a rock down the road.

"I don't think we should fully trust him."

"Why not?"

"I agree with the fact that he's broken. But... I can't help but not trust him."

I sighed, slightly annoyed. "Can you explain your theory?"

"No, cus I don't have one. But my gut... my gut says otherwise."

I kissed sleeping C.J. on the forehead. "Well, tell me when your gut gives you a better reason. He's just as broken as us, so why can't we keep him around?"

"Charles!"

All of us whipped our heads to Mary Grace. There were three insane. One of them had Mary Grace. I almost dropped C.J. in shock.

"Mary Grace!" Charles tried to run to her, but Hank grabbed his arm.

"It's too late. She's already turning."

"Mary Grace!" Charles yelled desperately, clawing at Hank's hand.

"Get off of me! Let me help her!"

"Charles! She's turning insane! There's nothing you can do!"

"No! I can't lose her! Not my dear Mary Grace!"

The insane stepped closer, leaving Mary Grace on the ground, shivering. I pulled my bat off my back. Seth grabbed my arm.

"Just protect the baby. I can defend both of you."

I nodded and stepped back. Patch pulled out his guns as Seth cocked his shotgun. Hank practically wrestled Charles to the ground, but that didn't stop Charles from fighting against him. Their fighting drew the attention of the insane, but they didn't notice.

Seth shot at the first one, a man. The bullet caught him square in the chest, killing him. The other two, both women, dodged Patch's shots. One of them pounced on Seth and tried to punch him. He managed to roll to the side, but the other one jumped on him too. Patch ran to his aid. I stayed back; making sure the baby was safe. Then, Mary Grace stood up.

The welts on her face were new and fresh. She stared at me with lifeless eyes and began to come to me. I took a step back, holding my bat in front of me in defense. She looked at the baby and smiled.

"My baby!"

I shook my head. "No, Mary Grace. She's not your baby."

"Yes she is!" she screeched. She lunged for me.

C.J. was not going to die like Ashley. She was not. I slid out of Mary Grace's way. With tears running down my face, I swung at Mary Grace's head, and I was right on target. With a sickening crack, her head broke open. Blood sprayed everywhere. I shielded C.J. from the contaminated blood, taking the blow. Mary Grace fell to the ground, dead. Charles screamed Mary Grace's name again and gave up fighting, collapsing in a sobbing mess. I hugged C.J. and looked over at Seth, who was collecting his shotgun.

"Die you insane scum!" Patch yelled.

I looked at Patch, who was repeatedly beating the dead insane woman on the head with his gun. Seth gave me a "do you see this?" look and ran over to him. He grabbed Patch's shoulders and yanked him away. Patch looked angrily at Seth.

"Let go of me!" he pulled away from Seth.

Seth released him and gave him a sad look. Patch walked away, mad. I placed my bat on my back and saw Charles crawl over to Mary Grace, tears flowing down his face. I walked to Seth, trying to hold back my emotions. Seth slung his shotgun over his shoulder and met me halfway. I cradled C.J. in my arms and felt my tears tumble down my cheek. I threw myself into Seth's chest, wanting to feel his presence and warmth. He wrapped his arms around me and let me cry into his shirt.

We continued in silence. Charles took a turn holding the baby, giving me a break. I stayed close to Seth, but I did that more often now. He was my safety, my security. I felt safe with him. I saw Patch eyeing us, and I thought about what Seth had said. How could Patch be bad? Sure, he did excessively beat that woman, but I don't blame him. We've all had moments when we wanted to/did do that.

"Beth, are you alright?" Seth asked softly.

"No, but you already knew that."

Seth forced a small smile. "It was a formality."

I looked down at my feet. "I miss Cassie."

"I know. I understand."

"I wish I could bring them back."

"Me too."

I took his hand and held it with both of my own hands.

"I'm glad you're here."

I felt him release some tension. He gently squeezed my hand. His hands were way bigger than mine, and they were calloused from the all the work we had done. But, they were gentle when they needed to be, and powerful when necessary.

Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble about his hands. Gosh, what a girl move, Beth.

We made camp somewhere on the highway. Charles took first watch, and none of us questioned it. By now, all of knew what it was like to lose someone and not want to sleep.

More traveling. It never ended. The battles, the walking, the death. It was constant.

Those weren't the only constants. Patch's behavior was strange as well. He was acting... weird. He would beat the crap out of the dead and would stare at me for hours. It was honestly creeping me out.

We had just entered the city outside of Montgomery when I decided to talk to Seth about it.

"Seth?" I whispered as I stepped closer to him.

He looked down at me and waited for me to continue.

"I think I'm starting to believe your gut feeling."

Seth raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yes!" I lowered my voice even more. "Patch is really starting to creep me out."

Seth nodded. "I agree. We need to keep an eye on him."

"How?"

"It's pretty easy, Beth. You just don't him out of your sight."

"Should we tell Hank and Charles?"

"No, not yet. Let's wait and see what happens."

We continued in silence. The more people we've lost, the more conversations died away. It was as if none of us wanted to know or tell anything about the hell we lived in.