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WHAT TEARS US APART

CHAPTER FIVE - THE DIVISIONS WITHIN

Laura Conrad

"Annie," I said as I ran to her. She looked haggard, pale, and an oily residue clung to
the curves of her face, deepening her features and making her appear much older than she was. I crashed into her and heard her breath exhale sharply as I squeezed.

"I'm fine, Mom," she said after a moment and then pat my back.

"Let me look at you." I put my hands on either side of her head and moved back to inspect my youngest child. I rubbed my thumb across a streak of black paint beside her ear. "What's all over you? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"I told you, I'm fine. This is just some camo paint that I haven't had a chance to wash off yet."

We were inside the Captain's Tent, a staging area for all of the High Roller's activity. The caravan consisted mostly of tankers, massive eighteen-wheelers that our mechanics had converted into rolling homes, and the Captain's Tent was the only structure that we built at each new campsite. It was essential that the Rollers were able to move at a moment's notice, but none of the tankers were large enough to accommodate a meeting of the Lieutenants. For that reason, among others, we circled the tankers and then raised the Captain's Tent in the center every time we camped.

There was a fold-
out table set up in the middle of the tent, with lawn chairs placed around it. On top of the table was a large map printed on thick stock paper. The map depicted the Rocky Mountain region and detailed all of the Roller's favorite campsites, as well as the surrounding towns and military strongholds. Pins were stabbed into various locations, depicting the movements of groups we were tracking. We took it upon ourselves to protect the settlements in the area, but it was a massive amount of space. We frequently discovered that areas we once thought were secured actually housed underground facilities. The concern about a military presence here was only outdone by the need to keep raiders at bay. It was no easy job, and the years of fighting had worn us thin, both in ranks as well as fortitude.

"Did the Lieutenants agree on a plan?" asked Annie as she pulled herself out of my grasp and walked over to inspect the map.

"They haven't met yet."

She looked at me, confounded. "Why not? What are they waiting for?"

"No one wanted to make a decision until they got a chance to talk to you first. With Hero and Kim gone, you're the one that has to brief everyone. Bonnie got here this morning with the rest of the survivors, but they said you went off to scout something. Where did you go?"

Annie walked around the table to the tent's entrance. "Bonnie said she knew how to get here, so I went back to check on something."

"Went back where?" I asked and unconsciously tinged my question with an accusatory tone, like a parent admonishing their child. I regretted it, aware that Annie was an adult now, despite how rarely I thought of her as one.

She sighed and didn't look at me as she peered through the tent flap. A sliver of sunshine split her and enlivened her red curls. "Back to Vineyard."

"What?" I was afraid she was going to say that, and I was furious with her for it. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I was doing my job, Mom."

"Your job? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Do you really have to cuss at me?"

"Yes," I said. "Yes I fucking do. Especially when you pull a stupid ass stunt like this. What did you go back to Vineyard for?"

"I wanted to see if they came back."

"Why would you do that?" I walked closer to her, but I could sense that she wanted me to keep my distance. She was angry about something, but I couldn't understand what. When she didn't answer me fast enough I berated her with another accusation masked as a question. "What reason could you possibly have to do that?"

"You weren't there. You didn't see what happened."

"Enlighten me," I said, my voice laden with derision.

She scowled at me, and I backed off to give her a moment to relax. I'd been too harsh, and needed to respect her more than I was. She was an important member of the High Rollers, but I still treated her as if she were a rebellious teen.

She let go of the flap, and the sunlight was blocked again. "I took one of them down. I had the sniper rifle, and I was able to take one of the helicopters down when the battle started."

"Okay," I said as the two of us moved to stand beside the table again. "But why did you go back?"

"They said there would be more of them. They said they would be sending another helicopter back, and I wanted to be there when it came. I figured I could take it down and give us some more time. If they came back and found out what happened, it wouldn't take long for them to start searching for us."

I considered what she said, and knew it wasn't a bad idea. If she was right, and the military returned, then they might've been able to track down the survivors. However, my stubbornness prevented me from admitting that she was right, and I found fault in her plan anyhow. "Kim and Hero left with the bodies, which meant that you were in charge of the evacuation. And besides, you know the rule about only traveling in twos. We always travel in twos, Annie."

"I know, Mom, but this was sort of extraordinary circumstances. Okay?"

"No, Annie. It's not okay." I knew I was being too hard on her, but I continued anyhow. Part of me needed her to understand that she had to take on a stronger leadership role in the Rollers, but another part of me recognized that I was being unfair. Still though, I continued to yell at her. "You need to stop taking off on your own like this. You keep doing it, and one of these days you're not going to just get yourself killed, you're going to get other people killed as well. This isn’t a game, Annie."

"No shit." She punched the table. "I was doing my job. I was trying to protect everyone."

"And you could've gotten yourself killed." I started by screaming at her, but then my anger tapered off and I sounded as if I was pleading. "You need to be more careful. I don't know what I’d do if something happened to you or your sister. I don't even want to think about it."

She was silent as she turned away from me.

We stayed quiet for what felt like several minutes. "I'm sorry," I said finally. "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

She nodded, but didn't offer any other retort. Normally I would've discounted her silence as a petulant, childish response, but I knew her well enough to see that something else was troubling her. I walked around the table and took her hand. "What is it, Annie? What's bugging you?"

She avoided my gaze and I had to put my hand on her chin to force her to look at me. There were tears in her eyes.

"What's the matter?" I asked again.

"It's my fault."

"What's your fault? What are you talking about?"

"It's my fault they're dead. All those people died because of me."

I was confused and wanted to console her, but didn't understand why she thought the attack on Vineyard could be blamed on her. "What do you mean?"

"When the helicopter opened fire on the bridge, when they killed Stitch and all those other people, I missed my shot. It's my fault they died."

"Annie, you can't…"

She pushed me away. "Don't, Mom. Don't try to say it's not because it is. It's my fault they got killed. I'm a fucking sniper. That's my fucking job and I missed my shot." She gesticulated an imagined distance in a frantic manner as she moved away from me. She was wild, angry, and venting her frustration. "He was right there, not more than fifty yards from me. I had him in my sights and I fucking missed, Mom. Do you know how that feels? Think about it." She slammed her finger into her chest over and over. "It was my job to take him out, and I missed."

"Annie," I spoke with compassion. It pained me to see her like this. "You can't think like that. You were trying to save their lives. Nothing that happened is your fault."

"Bullshit. You know damn well you don't believe that. If I were anyone else other than your daughter, you'd be pissed at me for missing the shot." She pounded her finger into her chest over and over. "I'm the one that missed. They're dead because I couldn't make the shot."

"The only person responsible for their deaths is the guy that pulled the trigger. You didn't have anything to do with it."

"I need to go," she said, her voice devoid of the passion that she'd had moments ago.

"Where are you going? You need to be here to brief the Lieutenants."

She waved me off as she walked back to the entrance of the tent. "Have Bonnie tell them. You don't need me."

"Annie, stop." She didn't, so I added, "That's an order."

She paused and her shoulders slunk as she stared out of the tent.

"I'm the God damned captain, and I'm telling you to report." I hated pulling rank on her, but I wasn't going to let her just walk away from this.

"Don't make me do this, Mom. I don't have it in me. Not now."

"You need to grow up. Stop acting like a child and learn your place." I was being harsh, but I needed to fulfill my role as captain instead of as her mother. She was an adult now, and I needed her as a soldier instead of as my child.

Her posture straightened and she turned to face me, decisive and alert. She wiped the tears from her eyes and walked to the table. "Call them in. Let's get it over with."

"Are you okay?" I asked, flitting between being her superior and her mother.

"Yes, sir." She formally addressed me, and I knew that she meant it as an insult.

"Grandma?" asked my grandson as he poked his head in through the tent's door. He was looking for me, but then saw Annie standing at the table. "Auntie!"

David rushed in as fast as his crutch would allow. Kim's son was a gorgeous little boy, with sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, but he had been handicapped a couple of years earlier. It was a tragedy that had taken the lives of several of our members, and crippled others. Our camp was attacked by a pack of Greys, and one of the creatures got hold of David. It tried to eat him while Kim was caught up in a fight with another one of the creatures. She was forced to watch as the zombie devoured her son. It was a miracle that the boy survived the attack, and another that he was immune to the virus.

David had survived, but not without horrific injuries. His face had been mauled, and he lost both his right foot and his right hand. However, the boy never seemed to let his injuries slow him down. He was a constant source of joy for everyone around him, and was an inspiration to us all. I don't think there is any better vision of personal strength than to watch this crippled child ignore his impediment and play with the other children among the Roller family. He was, and always will be, the bravest person I know.

Annie took David into her arms and lifted him up. He dropped his crutch, which had been specially adapted with a cuff to accommodate his missing right hand, and wrapped his arms around Annie's neck. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, kid," said Annie as she kissed his forehead.

"Is Mommy with you?"

"No, she went with Uncle Hero to go take care of some things. She'll be back soon though."

"Promise?"

"Of course," said Annie. "She'd never leave you. You know that."

"Are you two mad at each other?" he asked and looked at both of us.

"No, honey," I said. "We're just trying to deal with some grown up stuff."

"When Mommy gets back, I'm sure she can help fix whatever's wrong. She always fixes everything."

Annie tickled him and he guffawed as he pushed her hand away. "That's true, kiddo. I wish she was here too."

"When's she coming back?"

"I don't know," said Annie. "Pretty soon, I'd bet. You should go draw her a picture for when she gets back."

"Okay," he said and kissed his aunt on the cheek before being set back down. Annie knelt to pick up his crutch for him, but David waved away her assistance and got it himself. He knelt and retrieved the support with his left hand and then snapped the cuff over his right wrist before tucking the brace under his arm.

He started to head out of the tent when I called out to him, "Love you."

He turned and smiled. "Love you too, Nana."

"Can you do me a favor and tell Clyde to come in?"

He nodded at me and then left, allowing a brief illumination of sunlight to hit us as he went. Annie turned back to the table and started to inspect the map as I moved to stand across from her. The red-splotched map, decorated with marks that detailed our past battles, separated us.

"I guess you were right," I said, breaking the silence.

Annie looked at me, confused. "About what?"

"About fighting back."

She grimaced and looked back down. She picked up a red pin that was set aside and placed it on the map, near the Denver International Airport ruins. "I don't want to debate politics."

"It's not a debate. I'm admitting that I was wrong. You and the others were right. We should've been more aggressive."

"Don't start acting like this is your fault," she said and then looked up at me with a wry smile. "The only person responsible is the one that pulled the trigger. Isn't that right?" She wasn't being malicious, but her point was valid. I was the leader of the High Rollers, and my decision to avoid confrontation with the military might've led to the attacks against local settlements. I was quick to take the blame, just like Annie took the blame for not shooting down the helicopter. We were more alike than either of us would ever admit.

"What do you think?" I thought that Annie agreed with Hero, Kim, and the others who insisted on attacking the military every chance we had, but I wasn't certain. She was so young, and her worldview was still being shaped. At times, I thought she wanted to agree with my passive mindset, but was encouraged by Kim to take a more aggressive stance. "Do you agree with your sister about all this?"

She snickered. "Kim and I don't agree about much."

"But what about this? I'm asking you, Annie. I want to know what you think."

"I don't know, Mom."

"Don't give me that," I said, my voice returning to the admonishing tone I'd hoped to avoid. "Tell me what you really think."

She looked at me, and I knew immediately that she was hiding something. As her mother, I could decipher even the slightest hint of emotion in her demeanor, and her eyes screamed of lies that desperately wanted to get out. She turned away, aware that she'd given away too much without saying a word.

"What is it?" I rounded the table and confronted her. "Annie, what aren't you telling me?"

"I don't want to get dragged into this. Like I told Hero, I don't want to get in the middle of this fight between all of you. I even refused to go with him into…" she paused and looked away.

"Into what?" I took her arm and forced her to look at me. "What's going on?"

She avoided eye contact. "Do you remember Operation Slugger?"

"Yes, why?"

She finally looked at me, and I knew what she was about to say. "We never stopped it."

I released her arm and stepped back. Her admission of treason stole my breath. When I spoke, my one word question escaped hushed, "Why?"

"When you took over as c
aptain, a bunch of Billy's supporters agreed to continue with the operation behind your back. We've been attacking the compounds while on patrols and looking for new ones. Hero's still making bombs and sending them out with patrols. We found out that the traders were working with the military, and that they'd delivered tainted supplies to the towns. We followed them to DIA, and Hero wanted to bomb them. I didn't want anything to do with it, but he went without me. This has been going on for a while, Mom. We've been fighting back without your permission."

"For how long?" I asked as I supported myself against the table.

"I don't know, a year maybe."

"Who?" I felt the blood drain from my face and sweat bead on my forehead as I struggled with the implications of what Annie revealed.

"You don't want to know."

"Who?" I screamed, having found strength in my voice again.

"Stitch, Max, Julian, Ella, Oscar, Graves, Paul…"

She was naming the members of the patrols, which wasn't
what I wanted to know. "Which lieutenants?"

"Levon, Billy, and…" She paused, reluctant to tell me the third person's name, although I already knew.

"And?" I forced her to reveal the extent of the betrayal.

"Kim."

A tear fell down my cheek, springing from my eye with no warning, and I wiped it away as I stared at Annie with steeled anger. "Why?" I tried not to reveal how hurt I was, but my question escaped from me like a pathetic whine.

She shook her head and refused to look at me. "We just didn't want to run anymore. We wanted to fight back."

"Run from what?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What were we running from? From the military? We haven't been attacked in years. We haven't seen activity for years, Annie. What do you think we're running from?"

"They did this to us. They need to get paid back."

"That's not you talking, that's Billy. He's gotten a group of Reds set on revenge and is going to get the whole damn lot of us killed on this stupid fucking quest of his."

I watched her as she walked around the table, continuing to avoid eye contact. She stared at the map as she spoke. "So you think they should get away with it? You think it's okay to kill six and a half billion people?"

"No, of course not."

"Well, that's what it sounds like," she sa
id. "Ever since you became the captain, you've forced us to stop focusing on attacking their bases. You're backing down; giving up."

"It's been twenty years. When do we move on? Why is it so hard for people to realize that we can't keep trying to fight this war?"

"We're not going to stop fighting until we win," she said, still echoing the opinions that Billy espoused before I took over as captain.

"And how do we win? What's the strategy that will finally end this war and make it so our children are safe? What will make it so that we don't have to worry about that anymore?" She didn't answer, and I snidely said, "I'm waiting for an answer, Annie."

"Don't ask me," she said. "Talk to Kim and Billy. They're the ones…"

"Don't worry," I said, interrupting her in a way that I would've chastised myself for had I been less angry. "I'll talk to them both soon."

"God damn it," she said. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything. Don't tell them I told you. Okay? The other lieutenants don't know anything. You need to talk to Billy and Kim."

The tent flap opened and a spear of sunlight split the table in two, separating me from Annie as we both looked at the silhouette that was entering. "Hope I'm not interrupting," said Clyde.

"No," I said after a moment. "Come on in."

"Dave told me to come s
ee you. Did you want the other lieutenants too?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder while still holding the tent flap open. "I can go grab them if you want."

"In a minute," I said. "I wanted to find out how the patient is looking first."

"Which one? I've got a lot to choose from."

"The prisoner and his twin."

Clyde walked in and the flap closed behind him, enveloping the tent in shade that seemed darker now that my eyes had adjusted to the light. "It's not good, for the prisoner anyhow. He was shot in the chest, and he's coming in and out of consciousness. We've got him doped up…"

"On our poppy?" asked Annie, appalled at the suggestion that we were wasting our store of pain medication, which was heroin that the doctors had started referring to as poppy, on the prisoner.

Clyde glanced disapprovingly at Annie. He was barely middle-aged, but his face had taken on severe frown lines. Time had not been kind to Clyde, and he looked far older than his years. His hair had hardly a single blonde hair amid the grey and when he scowled his bushy eyebrows connected in the middle. "Yes, on our poppy. We need to save his life if we can."