Critical Measures Page 2

  “I just don't understand how she can have so many resources. I was at the camp, Matthew,” Stan said, “and even though a lot of people died, there still were so many left. I don't know where they're all coming from, but we have to be clever about this. If we aren't, they will be able to take us out just due to sheer numbers.”

  “There are apartment complexes in the city,” Adam said. “Lisa has taken control of them. She leaves food there and guards, and then uses the apartments to store the dead bodies, but there are people living there as well. She takes whoever she needs and adds them to her camp.”

  “These people, surely they can't be happy living in those conditions?” Matthew said, his eyes gleaming as he sensed an opportunity, but sadly Adam had to dash his hopes.

  “They're not, but they're all basically waiting to die. They won't be of any use. That's probably why the people in Lisa's camp are so willing to let her do what she wants. As far as they're concerned she's the one who has the power to send them back to that place, and nobody wants to go back there. It's cramped, you have to live in squalor, and you only can eat when you're allowed. We can't depend on them.”

  “My only concern right now,” Matthew said, “is that it seems as though a full-frontal assault won't work because of their superior numbers. And even a surprise attack isn't guaranteed. They might be more willing to arm the people in the camp now that they see us as a threat, and they're likely to be more vigilant after the rescue mission yesterday--”

  “I'll go,” Annabelle said. Everyone turned to look at her, shocked at the conviction in her voice.

  “I can sneak in and kill Lisa.” Stan stared at her, unable to understand what had happened to his daughter, what this world had made her into. Diana looked worried as well. Annabelle's words hung in the air. Nobody was quite sure what to say.

  “Stan, I understand she's your daughter, and that she means a lot to everyone here, but why is a child here?” Matthew said, the weariness getting to him. His voice was a little snappy and dismissive. Annabelle scowled.

  “I'm not just a child, I'm a Girl Scout, and this affects me just as much as it affects everyone else. I was the one captured by her. I've suffered just as much as any of you, and if I can help end this, then I want to. I'm not stupid. I know the world has changed and that we have to change with it. I've seen Lisa up close. I've heard her speak and I've seen the way she treats other people. She's an evil woman and I can do what has to be done. You've said it yourself, you can't attack from the front. So, let me sneak into the camp and end this. Dad, it's like when you used to take me hunting. You know I can do this.”

  There was a pleading tone to her voice. “I know you can do this, Annabelle. I'm just not sure you should,” Stan said.

  Annabelle slumped and folded her arms, sulking. It didn't seem that anyone ever gave her credit, even though she had done just as much to survive in the world as them, even though she had suffered, too. She had been locked up and then told she was going to be executed. She had had to think about what it was like to die, to face that eternal oblivion, only to be saved at the last moment by her father. Yet, in those moments she had realized how empty life was, and how easily it could be taken away. She wondered if her mother had felt like that when she died, and Annabelle was filled with an overwhelming grief.

  Death became a reality for her. She'd seen the other woman throw herself in front of a bullet. She'd seen the tall guard get stabbed and bleed out in the corridor, and for a time she thought Diana had died as well. Death was a part of life, and she could run from it no longer. The only way she could understand it was to have control over it. If she could get into that camp and kill Lisa, then all their problems would be solved. She didn't understand why the adults didn't let her do what she was capable of doing. She could get rid of Lisa and they could deal with the others. She was tired of being protected all the time, of feeling like the adults were trying to hide the reality of the world from her when she knew it better than a lot of them.

  “We'll talk about this later,” they all agreed, and Stan said he thought he needed a word with his daughter, in a stern tone that she was all too familiar with. It had taken her back to the times when he told her to do her chores or tidy her room, a strange sense of normality in a world that had changed so much.

  “Okay,” Matthew said, “I'd like you all to think about what we can do to get to Lisa. Because I don't know if we can withstand another assault here. We've lost so many people and we still need a lot of help to clear out all the rubble. I've sent some people out on scouting missions, and hopefully they can bring back some food. I'm just glad we have the well so we won't run out of water. I know it's hard to be out there with everyone at the moment, but I appreciate you helping us.”

  Adam and the others left Stan with Annabelle. As they walked out of the church they overheard the prayers of those on their knees, asking God for salvation, and to watch over those who still lived. Adam hoped their prayers would be heard.

  They went back outside to help the relief efforts, but it wasn't easy. People kept glaring at them, and some spat at them. A few people even came up to them and told them they weren't welcome. It took all their willpower not to fight back, because ultimately, they felt like they deserved all this, at least Peter did. He tried apologizing to them and explaining that they had been misled, and that they had been told this camp was a threat. Nobody wanted to listen, though. Their wounds still were raw and all they wanted was to get a little anger off their chests. Adam and the others stayed together, afraid that by splitting up they would be making themselves vulnerable. He knew Matthew had talked to the camp and told them of their presence, but it seemed as though a lot of them did not agree with their leader. All they saw was that they had brought the enemy into their midst.

  With a heavy sigh Adam and the others kept trying to help, hoping that eventually they would be forgiven. “I'm getting tired of apologizing,” he said.

  “Don't think it's going to end yet,” Diana said.

  “Would you forgive someone in the same circumstance?” Tara asked.

  Adam couldn't give an answer. He'd like to think so, but he couldn't be sure. He didn't even know whether there would be a home for him and the others here when this was all over. He liked to think there would be because he liked the sound of what Matthew was trying to do with the place, but it might be too difficult if nobody else accepted them. He was tired of roaming the world. It was cold and harsh and all he wanted was a warm bed and the safety of knowing there were other people around to share the burden of trying to stay alive.

  There was too much uncertainty in the city, and he didn't want to trawl across the world, searching for a safe place when there may never be another one. He knew Lisa had made it difficult to live in this area, so he'd have to go farther across the city, or maybe even to a new one. That meant more traveling, more camping, and more risk of being found by other desperate people. The world was a scary place, and he didn't feel safe in it. Enemies lurked everywhere, and he certainly didn't want to subject Peter, Diana, Tara, and Annabelle to that. It always seemed that every decision rested with him, and he tried to do the best for those he loved, but it always seemed to go awry.

  He tried pushing those thoughts away from his mind, though. There still was so much to accomplish, so much to overcome. There still was Lisa to deal with, and everything that came with that. He had his own problems, but he thought about Stan too, trying to be a father in this world. Annabelle's words had shocked all of them and Adam felt guilty for letting things get this far. He had tried his best to keep her innocence intact, but maybe that was a futile thing. The world had wrecked so many lives. Perhaps childhood wasn't a thing anymore either. Annabelle had seen more in her short life than many had seen in lives that lasted decades, but it clearly had taken its toll. The way she had spoken so coldly, so dispassionately...it had sent a cold shiver down Adam's spine.

  Chapter Three

  Stan had been sitting in the church, listenin
g intently to what Adam and the others were saying, when Annabelle had piped up. He couldn't quite believe the words that came from her mouth. She was so young and so much the daughter he remembered, and yet she was so different as well. When they first had seen each other again it all had been so simple. They had hugged, and he thought everything was going to go back to the way it was, but of course that was unrealistic. He couldn't blame Annabelle for being reluctant to stay with him. She'd become used to being with Diana. Given all their time apart, he may as well have been a stranger, and yet it pained him still to be so distant from his daughter.

  All through his life he had prided himself on how close he had been to her. They had spent so much time together than even his wife had been a little jealous of the bond that had existed between Stan and Annabelle. She was his angel, his little star, and the hardest thing in the world had been to watch her run away into the city, never knowing if she was going to survive.

  She had survived, but at what cost? He always had taught her that life would be hard, and he'd tried to prepare her as well as he could. He'd taken her hunting and taught her how to survive in the wilderness. He'd taught her things that weren't usual for a child to learn, especially a girl, but Stan never had liked the stereotypes anyway. In his mind everyone should know how to take care of himself and he was proud of Annabelle that she had lasted this long. Yet, it came with a cost, and he wondered how much he was to blame for this change in her attitude. She spoke so casually about killing Lisa, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, but he never had wanted her to be so detached from her own humanity. Perhaps that was the only way she had been able to cope with the losses she had suffered, and he hated himself for failing her. He should have seen those men coming, should have known he couldn't let down his guard, but there were just so many things to worry about. He'd had to take care of his family, and he had failed them.

  He knew all about detachment. After he had survived, which was a miracle unto itself, it had taken him a long time to recover from the trauma, both physical and emotional. He'd had to get used to living with one eye and one hand, and by the time he was able to function as a human being again, so many days had passed. He tried looking for Annabelle, but the area was clear, and he knew that even if she had survived, she would have obeyed him and run as far away as she could. The likelihood of ever finding her again was basically impossible, so he had given up.

  In some ways he wished he had died, because at least then he wouldn't have to live with the same pain every day, the dull ache in his hand, the sharp stab in his heart whenever he thought about his family. Everything had been torn away from him, and he didn't know what it had left behind. He'd found a purpose with Matthew, but it still felt as though he was going through the motions. Seeing Annabelle again had awakened something inside him, had reminded him of his place on this Earth. It was to protect her and guide her. He had failed, but now he had the chance to make up for that failure. Annabelle had come back to him, and he was going to make everything alright.

  It was not going to be as easy as the first hug, though. That was pure instinct. Actually, talking to her and reconnecting with her was going to take more of an effort. Stan wasn't sure where to begin. There was a fire in her eyes that hadn't been there the last time he had seen her. She had changed, grown up, and it was hard to believe she wasn't yet a teenager. She was as world-weary as the rest of them, and this messed-up wreck of a world had forged her young heart into something strong and resilient. Perhaps in a way she was stronger than the rest of them because kids were more adaptable than adults, and she hadn't inhabited the world for as long as they had. They were used to things being a certain way, and it had taken them a long time to adjust, but Annabelle could change more quickly. Maybe she was more aware of the truths of this new world; that killing was necessary sometimes to rid the world of a great evil. Stan wasn't exactly against killing Lisa, but he knew that something such as that came at a cost. He wasn't sure he wanted Annabelle to pay that price yet.

  Stan took Annabelle by the hand and led her through the camp. In the distance they saw Diana and the others helping out, but Stan did not go toward them. He wanted to speak to Diana more, to thank her for taking care of Annabelle. He didn't know if he'd be able to thank her enough for everything she had done. Diana was a strong woman, a formidable woman, and he was glad she had found Annabelle. At least his daughter had had a good role model in his absence. He took Annabelle's hand and moved away to the rear of the camp, near the well. It was deserted, and they were alone. He was glad for the chance to be with his daughter, even though there still was some awkward tension between them.

  Around the well were a few stone benches. Before the world ended this place had been a small park, a small piece of nature in among the brick and mortar of the city. The well was a few feet wide, with a bucket that could be lowered to the water, although at the moment it rested on the ground. This was the only water source for the camp and everyone who lived there had been thankful it had survived unscathed. In the past, Stan imagined the well had been used as a wishing well, with people throwing nickels and dimes down into the water, then wishing their heart's desire. He'd had half of his answered. If he could have anything else, it would be to see his wife again, but she had been taken, and there definitely was no getting her back. The only thing he had left now was Annabelle.

  “We need to talk about what you said in there,” he said.

  “I don't know why everyone is always so afraid of letting me do something. I can handle myself. You should know that better than anyone,” she snapped. Stan inhaled wearily, not wanting to get into an argument with his daughter. He kept his words slow and soft. In this part of the camp it was quiet, and almost easy to forget about the rest of the world and all the horrible things that had happened in it.

  “I do know, but that doesn't mean you can just go off and do whatever you like. It doesn't mean we're going to put you in harm's way.”

  “Why is it alright for everyone else to put their lives at risk? I'm not helpless. I want to be a part of this. I'm tired of everyone taking the risks for me when I can do a lot to help.”

  Stan understood her pain. He remembered it from when he was a boy himself, always wanting to be older than he was, not wanting to wait and let time take him there naturally.

  “Don't be in a rush to grow up, okay? I know it must be hard to be with adults all the time and to be treated like a kid, but it's just part of growing up. Enjoy being young because it goes by all too quickly. Do you remember your old life?”

  “Of course,” she said, placing her hands in her lap. Her legs dangled near the ground, her feet barely scraping it.

  “I do, too. Sometimes it was the only thing that kept me going. I think about everything I lost. When...when we were separated I thought I never was going to see you again, and I didn't know how I was going to cope. I had to watch your mother die, and I thought I was going to die, too. I thought at least I had saved you, and at least I would be at peace, but I was spared and forced to carry on living. The only thing I wanted was to have my two girls back. I would have given anything to have you with me again, and sometimes I had to force myself to not think of the past because it was just too painful.”

  “I did the same thing,” Annabelle admitted. Stan was glad to see they still had some things in common.

  “I don't want that to happen again. I've already lost one girl I love, I don't want to lose another. We've been given another chance, Annabelle, and we need to make sure we make the most of it.”

  “I kept thinking about when we went camping and you taught me everything you knew. I thought about the Girl Scouts, too. I thought about things that would help keep me alive.”

  “Did you think about your mother?” he asked. Annabelle nodded. Her face was scrunched up with emotion and she started to cry. Tears rolled down her young cheeks and she fell against Stan, who put his arm around her and pulled her into him. “I thought about her a lot, too. It's importan
t we don't forget her.”

  “I thought about the way she always used to make sure you had the biggest potatoes, and I had the crispy ones, and she always saved a little bit for me. She always shared her ice cream with me as well. I remember watching movies with her on those days when she would make hot chocolate with marshmallows and wrap us up in a blanket in your bed, and it was as though we were the same person. I remember how it felt so safe and soft to be in her arms, and how I never wanted to leave, how she'd do anything for me.”

  “She loved you so much,” he said, and kissed her on the head. The emotions were overwhelming him, and he knew now why he and Annabelle had been reticent to talk. They couldn't talk without discussing her mother, his wife, and they both had been running away from thinking about her, because it was too painful to bear.

  “You know what I remember? The night you were born. You were born a few weeks early, just couldn't wait to see the world. Your mother looked so beautiful. That night we held each other, and we promised each other we would take care of you no matter what, that we would give you a good life. I'm sorry I had to break that promise, Annabelle. I tried so hard to keep us together. I tried...” his words faded into choking sobs and his strong, powerful body shuddered with emotion. Annabelle rarely had seen him cry. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears, and just threw herself into him. They spent a good few moments crying before they caught their breath again and were able to speak.

  “We have to remember your mom and keep living in the way she would have wanted. We can't let her down. We have to think about what she wanted for you. She would have wanted me to protect you.”

  “She would have wanted me to protect you, too,” Annabelle said. Stan had to smirk at the quick-witted response of his daughter.