"I'm sorry about Vernon." Cristine murmured while cleaning her father's cut lip. "But it's his choice and if he chooses what's out there over here, that's the end of it daddy. You need to let it go."
"I know that... I thought this would strengthen the community not fracture it." James didn't look at his daughter, but at the ceiling. He didn't even flinch when she dabbed the septic against the cut to clean it. "It's hard to hear your friend of 30 years just run away like a coward." He sucked in a shaky breath thinking of the betrayal of someone he though his close friend. He decided to shift his thoughts to something else and gently brought up the other bitter news of their community. "I heard about what happened in the infirmary."
"Jack saved Hailey's life... all our lives. Hailey and Alicia are still a bit shaken up and Jack's- he's spending his last moments with his wife and newborn daughter." James finally looked at his daughter, but wasn't that surprised to see the callousness within her hardened and tense features. It seemed to be a permanent facial expression for her lately. As if shedding a tear or sharing her personal grievances would be selfish. James his heart ached seeing her like this. Cristine was the one with the biggest heart. She was just an expert at shutting down her feelings when it mattered. Which didn't mean that it didn't hurt her or that she cared less. She cared more than most.
"How are you feeling Birdie?" Dark brown flickered and the twitch of her lips was the only sign that Cristine was suppressing her emotions. James softly continue, "it's alright to grieve-"
Cristine cut him off with a straightforward question, "how did the dead enter the camp daddy?"
James didn't miss a beat responding with an equal directness, "the militia hadn't reported a lot of activity from the dead coming north so we wanted to cover more ground. We split in smaller groups to-"
"Why?" Cristine cut him off a second time and removed the wet cloth from her father's lips. She was searching for her words from the way her facial expression shifted. The dent inside her brows pull together. Trying to make sense of his words and not coming to a logical conclusion. Cristine looked at her lap in thought before her eyes landed on him. "We have contingency plans in place for situations like this. It wasn't necessary to thin the militia out... the plans are here to make sure we get ready for evacuation. We don't engage with living or dead. We survive." Cristine squeezed the words through mouth as if they burned on her tongue. "We lost two of our own today," Cristine emphasized. "So I'll ask you again dad. How did the dead enter the camp?" Cristine tilted her head and there was a flicker of remorse in those blue eyes.
"You're still riled up from before Bird-"
"Don't." Cristine sneered, the words sounded patronizing through her ears. "Don't treat me like a weak little girl. I'm not your weak little Birdie. You never allowed me to be that, so don't start now. Not after what you allowed all those years." James sucked in a harsh breath at the severe words, like acid on his skin and a strong scratching over his heart.
"..." The fact that her father didn't have his response ready told Cristine more than enough. She saw his grimace when he grinded his molars and looked away. But doing that did little to distract James from Cristine's accusatory question.
"For the same reason you and Troy torture that man for answers." James clarified with a narrowing gaze. Cristine shook her head in slight disbelief and scoffed. The subtle tics of her father's eye twitching and roll of the tongue over his lips more noticeable to her.
"I didn't put our people in danger and got two of ours killed in the process because my feelings got hurt." Cristine hissed under her voice and jerked her arm from her father's strong grip, wincing at the force he put behind when he grabbed it. "You lost a fucking friend so what?! The world is gone to shit and the stakes are much higher than that."
"Watch your mouth," James didn't like the tune of his daughter. His nostrils flared, "you know more follow Vernon?" He asked incredulously as if he heard a bad joke. "For all we know Walker has men waiting to ambush us and we're more divided than ever. What we need is to placate the Trimbols and the sheep that want to follow him to their deaths."
"How does that justify putting our people's lives- the camp at risk to make a point when it didn't even lead to the desired outcome?" Cristine paced through the camper and the anger made her eyes misty, but she refused to shed a tear. She didn't deserve to cry when a wife and child just lost their husband and father in the span of minutes. She had her family, she was alive and the luxury. She wasn't going to be selfish and cry.
James gave his daughter a complicated look. "I told you not to interfere and focus on your duties as our medic. This is my business to take manage and I make the calls."
Now Cristine was getting annoyed with her father and his high strung attitude. Normally, she would let it slide. But her father was treating her like some ignorant child! He had no right to do that now of all times. To care and pamper her when he never properly did that during her childhood. He just got two of their own killed and didn't even feel bad about it. "I don't know what the bad blood between you and-"
"Exactly Cristine, you don't know!" James yelled at his daughter, "don't mistake your place in all of this. This business is mine and the Founding Fathers to handle."
"Why? Cause you did something bad before the apocalypse and don't want us to know? Who did you kill daddy?" Cristine saw her father's face turn ashen, then green and red. But she didn't stop and cause her father was being a hypocrite. "Cause that is the only reasonable explanation I have for this- this hell we're all in. What're you so afraid off? You feel guilty because what you did is coming back to haunt you?"
"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," James snapped.
Cristine narrowed her gaze, voice low and cold, "I do. I killed people and you judged me for that like some hypocrite when I needed you. But I'm not going to wallow in self-pity and whine about it. The past is of the old world and the old world is dead." Exhaling deeply to take a pause, Cristine added, "I know you're trying to atone by treating me like I'm Hailey, but I'm not. I will never be Hailey daddy and with the world as it is, I'm grateful I'm not. Else I wouldn't be able to cross the state to find you after you left me without a word." Cristine would always miss the idea of healthy childhood she never had. But she learned from a very tender age that people were cruel, even if they were kin. The only exception was Hailey. A childhood where she was despised and neglected by her stepmother. Where her father acted as if the abuse and drunk outrage never happened. He made it up with gifts and trips, but he never talked to her about it. He never once acknowledged it. They had their tender moments yes, but they never spoke about the reality. And the reality was that deep down there was hurt, pain and resentment. Her father tiptoed around those cropped up feelings and Cristine did too. To keep the peace. But not anymore. Not when this could be someone's final day on the earth. One of theirs.
"I have to make it up to you. I-I have to somehow." James sniffed and looked away but she didn't miss the tear rolling from his eyes. "I didn't keep your mother's promise... I said I'd protect you and I didn't. Not even under my own roof. God I-"
"You can keep mom's promise by getting to know me. The real me. Not this fantasy you have of me and you lying to me." Cristine raised her chin and forced the words from her mouth, "that won't keep us alive."
The conversation made Cristine feel lighter the moment she stepped back outside. Inhaling to get air into her lungs, her breath visible in the chilled evening air Cristine gently rubs at her arm. With the uncanny feeling of being watched, she looked in the general direction where the person stood and her breath hitched just that little bit. The muscle between her eyebrows pulled taut. Her stomach dropped and her heart raced by the eyes peering back. She couldn't see them clearly, but she imagined their severity. He must've been walking around camp looking for someone, spotted her during his stride and stopped. The way he just stood there, watching her cautiously and not moving an inch. His tall figure elicited a dry gulp from Cristine and a chill crept up her spine. It summoned the bad omens to come.
Troy.
-
"There we too many dead between us. Jake said he'd take the long way back to camp and told us to wait near the west trail," Madison explained. She and Nick arrived simultaneously with Troy. Both bore the ill news of Jake's disappearance and reappearance at the Nation's campsite. "We had contact for a while and then we didn't. Last thing he said that there needed to be another way. We did know what he meant, but we wanted to go out and look for him. We couldn't." Madison eyed her audience one by one until her gaze landed on Troy.
"Jake went to Black Hat reservation to negotiate with Walker. They probably have him scalped by now." Troy's tune was callous, his irritation at an all time high. "What happened here anyway? Was it the Nation?"
"No," James answered with a shake of the head and Cristine briefly lowered her gaze to look at the floor. "Infected managed to slip inside. We wanted to cover more ground to be sure... we lost two of ours: Jack and Theo."
"Shit," Troy raked his hand through the top of his curls and chewed on his lips. "Well Waker's men attacked the Ranch and with our manpower we would've easily won, until Jake pulled this stunt. Should've known he wouldn't be able to get right with this." Troy distracted himself while wringing with his hand and the light dip of his shoulder and dark circles under his eyes told the story of the weariness catching up on him and his body. "We pack up and go back home. Regroup until we hear more from Jake."
"And Vernon?" Madison asked and it was Cristine who did a double take. A short glance between the mother and her father angering her. Stretching her body and raising her chin she asked, "what about Vernon?" Madison looked at Cristine from the corner of the eye, her silence while calculated, didn't convince her that the mother was all that unaware. Madison was like a shadow present at the right moments, with the right information to use to her advantage. As menial as it was.
"The Trimbols are leaving with a few. Theo and Jack and now news of Jake only convinced them it's safer elsewhere. They plan to go for elevation."
"What kind of bullshit is that?" Troy piped up, voice that slightest bit pitched. The hurt and betrayal in his claim lodged in there. "We're sticking our necks out while they're in a safe zone and they're still going to run?! Tell me you're not okay with this?"
James shook his head, vexed and with a click of the tongue answered, "no I'm not, but it's out of my hands son. They made their choice and I'll respect that. Best we pack and return with the ones still willing to do what's right." Troy wanted to reply, but at the last moment didn't and pressed his lips into a thin line. The flex pulled his face taut and his anger dissolved into nothing. He then wordlessly left the tent in a strong stride and Cristine watched his figure fade into the night all by himself.
-
Cristine flipped her blade back and forth, sucked in her breath and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling of the infirmary tent. The blade felt heavy inside her hand and the anesthetics were still so fresh. The urge to vomit, yell and cry. All those reflexive signals crawling up her body she buried them. She needed to focus. This wasn't about her. None of this was and like Alicia said everyone needed to do their part. Clenching the hilt tightly between her hands, until it hurt, Cristine exhaled once again. The pain managed to clear up her mind and made it a lot easier to push down her hesitance.
"You don't have to do this." Cristine looked in the corners of her eyes at Alicia and showed the brief grimace from her lips. "It doesn't have to be you who-"
"It does," Cristine cut the younger girl off with a light shake of the head, numbed to the idea of taking on this responsibility. "It needs to be me. Jack asked me to. Least I can do is do right by him. Besides, it's not the first time I had to put down my own people." Alicia clearly wanted to say more, but hearing how adamant and calm Cristine was under this pressure evened out her protest. She didn't seem to think it was fair anyone would ask this of another person. But this was the reality of their world now.
"I should've known..." Alicia began softly with a downward gaze before shrugging with a cynical smile and shake of the head. "About Jake. One of the last things he said to me that he wished we could have a place where our community would be safe for the Kathy's and their babies." The young woman's shoulders dropped. An invisible weight making her appear more exhausted.
"If it wasn't for you." Misty blue eyes flicker up when Cristine stated factually, "if you didn't pull me out of my panic, we could have lost a whole family. You protected Kathy, me, the baby. It can be hard, but you're strong Ali-"
"Cristine." The tender moment between the two was interrupted by the flap of the curtains getting pulled open by Blake. He paused. Looked between the two and seemed to realize his disruption, but eventually urged in a rushed voice, "it's time."
Sickly pale. Haggard skin and the feverish shivers that excreted sweat that drenched through his clothes. In just two hours, Jack's condition deteriorated so quickly it was shocking to see how weak he was. Both his wrists were cuffed against the iron handles of the medical bed. White curtains enclosed him from the outside world and Cristine gulped.
"His voice was scratchy and weak. "Didn't... think you had it in ya kid." The usual sternness inside his eyes was present even in his severely weakened state. "You brought my baby girl into this world."
"I said I would." Cristine tried to make this as easy as she could, but she couldn't keep the forced smile on her face. This was never easy no matter how often she had to do it. And knowing it was her father who indirectly caused this only added more to her guilt. No one could know and she'd carry this vile secret to the grave. Even if she somehow did the 'right' thing. What use was it to cause a panic? Jack was still dying and the community still remained fractured. Consciously keeping this secret was perhaps worse. Especially watching Jack and spending his final moments with him
"Yes.. yes you did." Jack sighed and even that seemed to cause him discomfort. He stopped, swallows hard, watery eyes look into the dark coal eyes of the young woman who brought his baby into this world and also ended the one of his infected son. It was ironic and a twisted play of fate. "First I heard what you did to our little Cam I was livid. I didn't- didn't understand and I wanted you gone. Dead. Took me and Kathy a long time to come to terms with how things are now. Especially her... but now." Jack winced and took a sip from the water Cristine gave him to ease his parched throat. It didn't help, it still felt as if a fire lit his throat. "Now I know this world won't get better and we... our people aren't really prepared. Most aren't like you." Jack suddenly reached for her hand with as much strength he could muster and Cristine felt the surprisingly strong grip. She flicked her gaze from his squeezing hand and then Jack's severe eyes. "I- I need you to look after Kathy and my babygirl. I need to be sure they're taken care of. They won't make it on their own."
"We're a community Jack. We take care of our own. We'll take care of Kathy and... I didn't even ask what name you gave her." Jack dry heaved and it felt as if with each second his bodily functions just weakened and given her background as an disease specialist, Cristine knew exactly what was happening. Jack was suffering. She wiped a coat of sweat from his forehead and waited for his answer.
"We called her Christine.. with an H after the C, so we'd know the difference." Cristine visibly froze, like a deer caught in headlights. The answer was not one she expected and she didn't know how to feel. Her heart was full, her stomach lurched and she blinked rather quickly to push back the hot pressure lodge behind her eyes. The short smile of disbelief on her face a mixture of pain and guilt and Cristine hurriedly sniffed.
"That'- that's a good name," she said light-hearted and the older man chuckled, before shivering from the chill. "You got taste Jack."
"I knew you'd like it." Jack's body relaxed and his breathing slowed and sounded louder. Grinding his teeth he gestured at the cover of her blade resting near her right hip. "I think it's time Cristine. I can feel it in my bones."
Cristine bobbed her head down and reached for the bottle of morphine on the side table and Jack's eyes curiously followed her hand. "To ease the pain. You won't feel a thing. You'll fall asleep and then-"
"Then you'll... you'll put me... to rest." His breaths were labored and his eyes half lidded. Jack was exhausted and not just because of the effects of the infection. "M-maybe.. maybe this is better... I'm .. I'm going to meet our Cam, Kathy... meet our champ." Cristine gently stroked Jack's head and with a small smile administered the anesthetic inside his vein and watched it take effect almost immediately. She then took the blade, tightened her grip on the hill after she turned Jack's head to the side to reveal his nape and slid the blade into the softest spot of his nape that connected to his spinal cord and the brain. The slick sound made her grimace and she watched the blood spill from the wound, onto the metal and cot.
It was done.