Cristine stared through the night vision binoculars. Through the green colored view she saw the patrols behind the fences walk their routinely shifts. Cristine went to the old tower just outside the Ranch used as a sentry post. Away from the people to seclude herself for a bit and organize her thoughts. After a while Cristine walked balk towards the small crackling campfire. The heat source not as warm as earlier so she added some more wood and began to poke at it with a stick. The orangey yellow flame greedily licked at it's fuel and sparks of embers drifted upwards. Cristine's eyes quietly watched the spots dissolve before rubbing her arms gently with her palms until they become sensitive and suddenly lowered her head between her shoulders. Her back was bend over and she hugged herself within the comfort of the small heat in the middle of this uncanny chill. The anxiousness that gripped her heart, squeezed in a manner that constantly ached.
What was she supposed to make out of all this?
Sniffing, the moment she felt a droplet trickle down the corners of her eyes and brought a fisted sleeve to scrub it away until it left her face feeling raw. Cristine didn't want to make sense of her conversation with Jake or believe Joe's story. She wanted to ignore the worsening ticks of her father under pressure that were subtle at the start and became worse as time moved on. Cristine wanted to make sense of Troy's lethargy by remembering the moments the two of them didn't argue and worked so well. She wanted to disregard the feeling of her gut and rationale ignoring the signs that something was very wrong for a long time. Cristine wanted to overlook that the murder of the Trimbols had been distorted to fit a narrative. It was like a vice grip on her longs now and Cristine struggled to breath and she tried to regulate by clenching her fists together until it hurt. Until the pain was so intense she gasped and clarity returned.
The low engine hum slithered through her ears. Cristine didn't have the physical strength to look up or mentally care that she exuded this exhausted, grief-struck ambience. Under different circumstances, she would've separated her emotions to cushion herself from possible threats or people taking advantage of her... again. It was exhausting, but just when she thought she found her safe haven to trust it got crushed. Her emotions still raged from outburst in the infirmary with Dolores and now her thoughts spun over the worst possible scenario that involved her father. Cristine felt sick
"Cristine!" Her father's hasty voice rang so loudly in her ears, Cristine slipped her palms to cover them and block it out. The tension in her face and limbs grew again and her thoughts accelerated inside her head. Everything was too loud around her and the vice grip in her lungs tightened, breathing coming in quick intervals. It all threatened to spill from her brains, unable to think, make sense and do the basic bodily actions. She felt a pair of strong arms engulf her body, the familiar scent seeped into her being. "Shh... shh... it's alright Birdie, just breathe." Usually, her father's warmth and soft words would comfort her and she'd relaxed into his hold. Each time before parting, it would reset all her bad feelings.
But not this time.
Cristine eventually managed to catch her breath and slid her hands from her ears. Her father rocked them back and forth and Cristine listened to her father, listless gaze staring at the dirt, "everything will be alright." James his grip was soft and his words sounded so ironic in her ears.
"It won't." Cristine was unable to piece together how her father could look at himself, look at her, at Hailey, his family, and not feel sick with himself. Sick with actions. She often thought about the things she'd done and there would always be a soft voice inside her head that she tried to ignore. Sometimes it was good but most of the time bad and it scared her. Frightened her that every time she needed to cross a line she didn't want to again.
After freeing her hands, Cristine wrung herself from her father's embrace and pushed against his chest in the midst of comforting words that just sounded hollow to her. Cristine didn't immediately look at him, but she caught her breath first, eyes welling up. She gathered all the mental strength she could muster and finally looked at those concerned blue eyes.
"Tell me... what happened to the Trimbols." Despite the quiver in her demand, her voice didn't miss a beat and was crisp.
"..." James looked back with silent confusion, expression faltering. His daughter's defeated posture, her, upturned brows, and glistening eyes left him speechless. He shifted on his feet, jaw slack and mouth slightly open. He pressed his lips together, quietly deciding to not speak.
Noting her father's deliberate silence, Cristine said, "if you lie to me one more time, I'll ask Troy or Madison instead. Then, after all this is over, I'm going back to the outpost." Cristine shook her head with slight disbelief. It hurt even more that she had to threaten and beg to pull out the truth. "Just say it."
The air was brittle and the silence teetering.
"Tell me the truth daddy. No matter what it is, I won't- I won't tell anyone." Cristine didn't want to make such a promise, but if that was the only way her father would look at her and see her then she would make this allowance. The messed up thing was she still wanted to protect him. Their love would remain broken, but if he couldn't even be honest, no matter how cruel, what else did she have? Cristine didn't want to go back to the pretend. She didn't want to go back to the emotional indifference just when her father finally stopped drinking.
Inhaling deeply, James pulled his mouth up before looking away from his daughter. In his life, James had done a lot of awful things. And all those times something within him chipped away until he couldn't find it in himself to care and justified it. He did it, because that was his truth and one else's. He murdered pre-apocalypse and that wasn't talking about his life as a soldier in the army. The war was different and it had left James empty when he returned. James willingly murdered in the name of brotherhood. The guilt didn't sit on his chest or brains as it did with Jeremiah. James tried, but he didn't feel remorse knowing what he had done. Knowing what he kept a secret now. He had at first, but feeling remorse or guilt didn't feel right. Perhaps that was the reason why he pitied and protected Troy. Aside from the boy's volatile nature, he saw fragments of himself within him. It was why he wanted to keep Cristine as far away from any of this as he could. But his daughter was smart. He had hoped this was another secret that could remain as one. James stiffened himself militarily and breathed out deeply the moment he looked back at Cristine.
"Madison saw Troy sneak out that night and came to me," James began softly. The dark shadows of the fire danced across his serious face, but the warm glow of the embers didn't soften his face or his narration of that night. His words ominous and calm, "so we followed him... and when we caught up it was already too late. The RV was filled with bullets. Mike was outside; dead. Vernon, Kathy, and Gretchen had turned."
Cristine's thoughts ran a thousand miles per hour when processing the words. Her throat went dry quickly, but she held in her breath and asked in a anxious whisper, exhale sharp, "and Troy?"
"He killed them," James continued and this time he lowered his gaze, ashamed. Not over the fact that he was part of the cover-up. But ashamed that he needed to come clean to his daughter about this. "He said it wasn't what he intended to do following them. Said, it wasn't what you and him discussed and he didn't lie."
"...so," Cristine's eyebrows scrunched together with a shake of the head, the confession rang through her ears like a blearing alarm. "...you made it look like Walker did it?"
"Yes." James nodded, but didn't go in detail what he had to- needed to do that night to make it all seem believable to the community. "I know it's hard to under-"
"No! Don't you dare!" Cristine roar made her voice pitched. She breathed noisily and pointed a finger in accusation at her father for even finishing that sentence. Her mouth was pulled back and her teeth were bared. Her wet eyes glowed hotly, but were also hard and unforgiving. "Don't you dare say it's hard to understand when you- you just- you not only deliberately lied to me again but you covered for Troy... after- after he killed them. Why? Tell me why?"
"You know why." James allowed that ball of negative emotions to strike him. He deserved the rage and betrayal.
"I want you to say it." Blue-eyes widened, body tensing and breath stuck in his throat. Cristine didn't give her father any leeway to run from his conscious and deliberate decisions. She watched him swallow and waited for him to say the truth that justified covering this horrendous thing up. "Say it."
James rolled his lips inward and briefly looked at the dirt for a few seconds, unable to keep eye contact with Cristine. "I did it to keep us saf-"
"NO!" Cristine slammed her hands into her father's chest and the later slightly stepped back from the force she put behind that push. He didn't react to the frantic push and kept quiet. Unsatisfied, Cristine pushed him a few more times as rough as she could. "We're not your excuse! You own it like you owned setting up this lie and cover up! Say it!" James almost stumbled back from the final slam in his body and reached out to grab Cristine by the arms and stopped her. His eyes reddened and he glowered at his daughter who was now panting and crying.
"You want to know the truth? The truth was that these people are weak when it comes to it. They claim they don't want a leader, but complain when nothing is done. Jeremiah hasn't done shit, but put all of us in jeopardy, so I saw a chance and I took it! Yes, Vernon and his family died, but my family is safe and that's all- that's everything that matters." James his eyes frosted over and the strength he put behind keeping Cristine at bay was tight. He ignored how she refused to cry out in pain. "You begged me that I stop treating you like a child. You wanted us to get to know each other. Really get know each other." James threw back Cristine's words in her face and it made her nostrils flare. "Now you do. This is who I am! Drunk or sober alike, this is who I'll always be! Do you want me to tell you that I'll change?"
Cristine ignored the vice grip her father kept on her limbs and shook her head, "I wanted you to be honest with me. I want you to tell me justifies crossing this line."
"This line?" James narrowed his eyes before scoffing, hearing nothing but hypocrisy coming from her. "How many people have you killed Cristine? How many times have you lied to us- to me to get things done? Do I have to remind you with the same individual you claim is your friend. There are no lines. This is how we live now and we're alive. That's justification enough." James finished, "don't pretend all of this is new to you or that we're different because you want to feel in control by picking and choosing what's right and wrong. A kill is a kill Cristine. There's no morality in any of what we do and will be doing to survive. This needs to happen before we can all live like decent people again and not wild animals."
Cristine ignored the tears running down her face and she ground her teeth. Heat flushed through her body and her muscles quivered. "I don't hate who I've become if that's what you're implying. None of us asked for this sick world and the sick things we need to do... I just- I just thought having a community where the people we care about can live decently. That we'll only fear the people and things that want to hurt us. Not having to worry about getting sacrificed by your own. By people you think you trust." Maybe Jake was right, in a sense that a war would have sacrifices, but not at the cost of consciously sacrificing your own people to win.
James was left speechless, as if it dawned to him, but his eyes cooled down again. "We need people like Troy, like me, and like Madison to stop Walker. I don't like it, but someone needs to make the hard the calls."
"Do you even feel guilt about the Trimbols?" Cristine asked, growing weary of the conversation.
"If I do, it'll all be for nothing," James chewed on his lips. "It's no use throwing someone as skilled as Troy to the wolves when we're fighting. Not even after we've won this. We both know what he's struggling with and if it's time to put him down when it gets worse, I'll do it. I promise." James pulled Cristine back into a tight hug and rubbed the back of her head, "hate me and cuss me all you want Birdie, but you're safe. Hailey and Dolores are safe. People are willing to fight and die to keep what we've build standing."
Cristine gasped in her father's shoulder, her face creased and body so taut she couldn't breathe and felt trapped in her own skin. Her heart seared painfully and grasped the sides of his jacket, shoulders shaking and the sound of her struggling to breathe and cry. Her gasps were labored from the windedness during her outburst. Cristine opened mouth opened, her statement surprising her and shocking her father when she said it out loud, "no wonder you married Dolores so quickly after mom died. You're selfish."
As if he touched hot coal, that's how quickly James pushed Cristine off of him. His eyes widened, the shock lasting for a few seconds and James slapped Cristine. Hard. The force of the hand print instantly reddened her cheek and the sound echoed through the night. The blow rendered Cristine dazed while staring right through her father. As if his presence and actions were as meaningless as the wind. The faint furrowed of her brow indicated some sort of thought blooming, but her face relaxed into that familiar, slack expression. Her breathing slowed and after a while Cristine silently passed her frozen father. James twisted around, his jaw slack as if he wanted to call her back, apologize, but the words couldn't leave his mouth. From his peripheral, James saw the lights of two vehicles before the humming of the engines crept through his ears. He watched them race through the gates and drive all the way up to the Big House.
The others returned.
Writing this chapter was intense! So much was going on, but I hope I've cleared the dynamics between Cristine and James.
James has always been a neglectful (and abusive) father despite how I've introduced him in my first book as the kind, approachable man who always smiles. He 'made up' his (and Dolores's) abuse and neglect, especially towards Cristine with trips, gifts, but didn't really protect her from any of it (why I also added Dolores even if she has a really tiny role in my story, but has shaped who Cristine is now). Cristine is the product of her abusive environment. She still yearns for her father's (broken) love and attention. Even if she exhibits more than a few of James his cold-hearted traits, albeit not as extreme as him. Whereas James is willing to do whatever (similar to Madison), Cristine still has that line of protecting what she cherishes. It's in Cristine her nature and she'll always seek that appreciation/acceptance from others (unconsciously) when she doesn't always get that from her father, but from others. James has a more Darwinistic and 'sacrificing the few for the good of the many' approach (which I think kind of has psychopathic roots, but I'm not an expert). His justifications sound like excuses to Cristine, but James really believes in what he did, has done, and will probably keep doing. He simply finds it hypocritical of Cristine that she would define these set of rules and judge him, Troy and Madison for doing what they did when she's killed too. For James these rules are obsolete when literal lives are at stake and he'll gladly will touch the extremes. Like I mentioned before, there is mostly only grey in my story because it is an apocalypse. It's why I enjoy writing these contradicting views, motivations and beliefs everyone holds. And FTWD has done an awesome job in my opinion showcasing that. Their relationship is complex and I hope you guys were able to read between the lines even though this was an emotional confrontation and callout.
Also, I finished this chapter early, because I won't be able to update the rest of this week/weekend because I'll be on a short break!
Love to read your thoughts and opinions about this chapter.