The Remaining: Fractured Part 19

Angela laid the blanket out on the ground inside her shanty, pulled a folding knife from her pocket. Abby stood beside her, leaning on her mother and twisting about in the fidgety manner of all small children. Angela opened the knife and cut a hole in the center of the blanket-a small, rectangular affair, not meant for much more than to be draped over a couch.

With the cut made, she draped it over her daughter, putting the little blonde head through the slit she'd created so it hung on the girl's shoulder's like a poncho. Abby looked down at it and swished it back and forth, as though feeling out how drafty it was.

"Still cold," she said, then swiped at her nose.

Angela smiled and rubbed her daughter's shoulders. "It'll do until I fix this one for you." She picked up the small, black winter jacket and displayed the ragged hole in the elbow. She stared at it for a long time. Just another ch.o.r.e to do. It all felt like busy work. Like she was just biding her time. Like it was all just a bunch of distractions, trying to get her to stop thinking about the truth.

Stop thinking about Jerry.

Stop thinking about Bus.

Stop thinking about Lee.

The worst part was that none of it worked. Mothering Abby and Sam. Cooking meals. Mending clothes. Helping out with some of the ch.o.r.es around the compound. Like some domesticated dream that she was being forced to have. And all she wanted to do was wake up. Get out of this dream world. Take the action that needed to be taken.

Is any of this ever going to feel normal again? How long do I think I can fake it?

Abby tapped her shoulder. "You okay, Mommy?"

Angela forced a smile. "Yes, Honey. But you need to be more careful when you play."

"It's not torn that bad," Abby touched the torn fibers of the jacket. "I can still wear it."

"You're just gonna make it worse." Angela stood up. "It's not like it was, Honey. We can't just go to the store and buy you a new coat. We have to take care of our stuff now."

"I know."

The tarp that covered the front door swung aside and Sam poked his head in, the .22 rifle he'd got from Mr. Keith slung on his shoulder. It struck Angela how adult he appeared lately, always concerned for Abby, always serious. Oddly, he often asked Angela how she was doing, as though he felt that it was his responsibility to fill in for Lee.

"Sam," Angela waved. She grabbed her own coat, put it on. Her fingertips went to her hip under her jacket, wanting to touch the cold metal of her gun, but it wasn't there. She hadn't got it back from Jerry when he'd let her out, and she had no inclination to ask him for it. "Where's Mr. Keith?"

"I dunno," Sam stepped through, looked behind him as though to make sure he wasn't followed. In a lower voice, he stated ominously, "Talking to some people."

Angela became still. She looked at the young man standing across from her, tried to take a reading from him, but his dark eyes let nothing on. G.o.d, he's such a strange kid.

"Can I go play with Sam?" Abby pled. "I hate sewing."

"You're not sewing," Angela rolled her eyes. "You're watching me sew."

"I hate watching you sew."

Angela rubbed the fabric of her daughter's torn coat, feeling a knot forming in her stomach. That little twinge of sharp pain every time the prospect of her child being in danger occurred to her. Was it safe for her to leave Angela's side? She wanted the little girl with her, felt like she was more protected with her mother. But Abby wouldn't understand why she couldn't play with Sam. And Sam was old enough to watch her, wasn't he?

She grit her teeth. "Okay...Sam, is that alright with you?" She prayed Sam would say he was busy with some other project. Some gross boy thing that Abby would not be interested in. Skinning rabbits or gutting fish or something.

But Sam just nodded. "Yeah, we can play soccer with the other kids."

Abby looked relieved. "I'm good at soccer."

Sam smiled. "You're pretty good."

Angela zipped up her jacket. "Sam, can I ask you to do something for me?"

"Yes?" Sam stuck a thumb in the strap of his little rifle.

Angela put a hand on his shoulder. "If Jerry or any of his guys try to come talk to you or Abby, you come straight to me or Mr. Keith, okay?"

Sam looked at her as though it were a strange request, but he nodded. "Okay."

Angela watched the two kids exit the shanty, hand in hand. It's gonna be okay. We're all within earshot here. If anything happens...

She clutched her hands together. "Nothing's going to happen."

Angela left her shanty, wis.h.i.+ng she had a way to lock it behind her. She felt open and exposed to this community that felt less like a community and more like strangers. Strangers who were neutral towards her at best. Openly hostile in some cases. So many of them were eating Jerry's bulls.h.i.+t hook, line, and sinker, and it made her clench her jaw until it hurt that people could be that stupid, that gullible.

But they weren't all that way. There were a lot, but there were plenty that thought like Angela. And she was going to find them. She was going to find them and she was going to make this right. It was her responsibility. She had to take it.

"Angela!"

She raised her eyes from the gravel ground and found Jenny waving and jogging across The Square towards her. A hesitant smile played across Angela's features. She raised a hand and waved, somewhat less enthusiastically than the former nursing student-turned-doctor. She looked around, saw that the few people in The Square hadn't really paid them any mind.

"Hi, Jenny," Angela said as Jenny drew close.

Jenny dodged all pretense and immediately put her arms around Angela, her voice thickening as it grew quiet. "I'm so, so sorry. I heard. I heard what happened. If you need anything..."

Angela's smile turned grim. "I'm fine."

When Jenny pulled away, there was the barest s.h.i.+mmer of tears in her eyes. "It's horrible. I just can't believe that Bus put you in that situation!"

Angela almost coughed. "What?"

"Holding you hostage..."

"Jenny!" Angela felt her face flush and fought the urge to slap the woman, as though she were a piece of machinery that had a stuck gear. Angela opened her mouth to speak, but took another glance around and this time found a pair of eyes watching them.

Greg, funny enough.

Jerry's words jangled through her mind, harsh and reverberating like a cymbal crashed too close to her ears. Those men that do things for me might find you, Angela. Maybe in the middle of the night when you're snug in your bed, cradling your daughter...

She turned quickly back to Jenny, found the woman staring with a perplexed expression that bordered on taking offense. As though the sharp tone had been completely unexpected, and obviously perceived as unnecessary.

"Angela...what's wrong?"

Angela put an arm around Jenny, clutching the upper sleeve of her jacket perhaps just a little too hard. "Come with me. We need to speak in private."

"I don't understand..."

"Just be quiet and walk with me," Angela hissed, feeling the eyes of Greg boring into her back as she moved Jenny towards the rows of shanties. At first she moved towards her shanty, but then decided she wanted to be farther away.

She kept moving down the rows of hastily erected shelters, walking quickly, but not so quickly as to raise suspicions...she hoped. They kept walking until they hit the fence that bordered Camp Ryder and for the first time, Angela noticed the hodge-podge of sc.r.a.p metal, corrugated roofing, tires, boards, and other unused items that had been welded and lashed to the fence.

"What the h.e.l.l is this?" She said.

Jenny looked at it. "It's Jerry. You know he's big on fortification-no one in, no one out-that sort of thing. The second he took over he pulled a group of five guys and they've been doing nothing but reinforcing the fence and the gates."

Angela grimaced.

"Why?" Jenny asked.

Angela shook her head and just muttered, "Berlin wall."

Jenny looked around, growing mildly irritated. "What the h.e.l.l's going on with you?"

Angela looked behind them. There was no one around and the closest shanty was over twenty yards away. When she found Jenny's eyes again, she spoke deliberately and quietly. "What were you told? What'd they say happened in the office?"

Jenny put her hand to her chest as a freezing wind knifed at their skin. "They never came out and said anything. I heard that Bus lost it, tried to hold you hostage when he saw Jerry coming to take over. But Jerry was able to get him away from you and then had to kill him."

Angela didn't think her eyes could stretch any wider. The wind sucked the warmth and the moisture out of her mouth as it hung open. "Are you serious?"

"Look, I'm no big fan of Jerry," Jenny whispered. "But I'm glad he saved you..."

"Jenny! None of that happened!"

"What?"

"It didn't happen like that!" Angela rubbed her face. Her eyebrows knit together in a combination of disbelief and anger. "Bus never held me captive! Bus was the one that convinced me to surrender when I was getting ready to shoot it out with them!"

Jenny shook her head. "Oh, Angela..."

"Why do you think they held me prisoner?"

"I thought it was just to make sure that...well, I don't know."

Angela was close to snapping. "Whose side are you on right now, Jenny?"

Jenny reached out and touched her arm. "You're my friend. I'm here for you."

Angela put a hand to her mouth and looked away as she felt her eyes starting to burn. Bus' murder flashed through her brain, memories she didn't want but that had been erected like murals on the walls of her mind. And then Jerry's words, once more, whispered in her ear with hot, malicious breath: those men that do things for me might find you, Angela. Maybe in the middle of the night when you're snug in your bed, cradling your daughter...

Jenny bent close. "What happened in there?"

Angela sniffed, wiped her hand off on her jacket, and forced a brave face. "Nevermind. Forget I said anything." She s.h.i.+fted her weight. "I've got to get this jacket sewn back up. But after that, do you need any help at the medical trailer? I need to get back to work doing something."

Jenny watched her friend for a long time before nodding. "Yeah. I could always use the help." She swept stray hair behind her ears. "We're hurting, Angela. We've run out of meds, and it looks like this cold or flu thing is just getting started with us. I've got three people with full-blown pneumonia right now, and I've got no way to solve it. I don't..." She didn't finish her thought.

"Ladies!"

Angela and Jenny turned towards the shanties, saw Greg standing there, his thumbs stuck in the pockets of his ratty jeans, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Angela's heart felt like it had exploded in her chest and immediately she began to formulate explanations for what they were doing whispering in this quiet corner of camp.

Jenny actually managed a smiled. "Hey, Greg."

Greg let the silence stretch uncomfortably, situated his old Yankee's ball cap on his head, then jerked a thumb back towards The Square. "Jerry's callin' a town meeting. Wants everybody to meet up at The Square so we can talk stuff out."

"Okay," Jenny nodded.

Angela seethed, but kept her mouth shut.

Town meeting? Town meeting? Like he's the f.u.c.king mayor? Like he's running this place?

Greg winked. "Message delivered. See you there."

Angela and Jenny made their way through the rows of huts to The Square where a crowd had already gathered and Jerry stood on the tailgate of a pickup truck, smiling cordially and greeting people by name, bending down to shake hands and slap shoulders.

Angela stood on tiptoe to try to see over the heads of the others. Where's Abby? Where's Sam?

There were a few children in the crowd, but not the usual amount.

Maybe they're still off playing.

She tried to listen for the sounds of the children's soccer game, but couldn't hear over the bubbling murmur of voices all around her. She found the face of another woman she knew had children. She reached through a wall of bodies to touch her arm and get her attention.

The woman turned to look at Angela, and her face immediately soured.

Angela ignored it. "Hey, are the kids still playing soccer?"

The woman nodded. "Last I saw. Why?"

Angela smiled. "Nothing. Just being a mother."

The woman quirked a brow haughtily and turned away.

And Angela grit her teeth and thought, Didn't I bring you food and extra blankets? Didn't I make sure that you had medicine for your snot-nosed brats? Didn't Lee and his team find the children's cough syrup for you that kept your son from getting pneumonia?

What a b.i.t.c.h.

Never did like her.

Jerry raised up his hands for quiet and cleared his throat loudly. "Thanks for comin' out so quick, folks. I know we all got jobs to tend to, and I'll make this brief." His eyes panned over the gathering. "It's been a few days since we were able to take back control of Camp Ryder, and since then we've successfully ended the senseless waste of our precious resources. We're no longer burning through the things that will keep us alive, because we're not trying to convince other groups of survivors to be friends with us."

There was a mild round of applause.

Angela bit her tongue, wondering if he was going to bring up the lack of medicine.

Or maybe that's what he wants. Maybe he wants us to have to rely on him.