Part 2

Six years earlier, the world had yet to be hit with apocalypse. Her childhood seemed idyllic in hindsight but it was not 1997 anymore where she worried about first kisses and if she would be able to get into the rated R movie. Nor was she battling the pains of pre-adolescence as she balanced coning people to believe that she was in junior high while simultaneously feeling the school's stresses. She was now sixteen years old and still in the family business. She didn't stick around for the way of life, but because she didn't want to leave her sister or her father. Plus, she never got close enough to anyone else to ever want to leave.

Wichita gave a slight smile coming back to the present to the SUV from her memory. She didn't lie to Columbus when she told him that she had told him about Scotty Lynch. She simply left out the part that she was working a con that required her to be three years older to get close to the target's son. Her mind drifted back to six years earlier.

Her father had always been a con artist. However, she never knew that was what it was called. While her childhood up until that moment had seemed perfect, it might have been slightly unusual to others. Most girls didn't go out with their dad's every weekend to pull cons or go to the desert shooting range. Her mom wasn't any better. She was always knew the science of smooth lying and elaborate stories. Her now six year old sister knew more about con-ing than she ever did at that age. But the way that her younger sister lied was scary. She was so deeply entrenched in the pretend that she sometimes feared that her sister had lost herself. She was wrong.

She understood over time that her sister simply had a blind hope in what they did. She put all that she had into the cons not because she believed in them but because she had faith that somehow Krista and her father miraculously had a handle on what was happening.

Krista looked around at the shelves pretending to be interested in the merchandise. Her mother entered the store. For years of practice, she knew not to acknowledge her. She focused more on the merchandise. Her mother was wearing tight fitting clothes. She had a look of panic on her face.

"You have to help me!"

The man was she was pleading to was in his mid thirties. This was a fancy store. It's dresses were being solid for over $300. The man tried to stay calm as he looked down at the woman.

"Ma'am, this isn't the store for you, I'm sorry we can't help you." His voice was beginning to waiver.

"Please, sir, my boyfriend's a comin'. I need to pay him off. Please let me just take a loan."

"Ma'am, I'm callin' the police," the man said determinedly, but didn't move toward the phone.

Something was holding him back. His conscious, his hope that he could do something better. And that's what her family counted on.

Krista looked around the room making sure that was no one else there. They had planned on this. It was the end of the day. Everyone had gone home besides this one manager. Her mother continued to look desperately at the sales clerk.

"Please, sir. Please let me take a loan. I will work here for years to pay it off. . . ." her voice trailed off .

Her mother saw the man that the manger guessed was her boyfriend, approach. Her mother looked desperately at the manager. The manager looked fearfully at the man approaching the store through the backdoor. There was a small child in his arms with a gun at her head. The little girl had tears streaming down her face. Krista had to give her sister credit, man that girl could cry on command.

"Well, well, here you are," he father said seriously. "Come with me, darlin', and I will let your daughter live."

Krista watched her mother look at the manager desperately. Her mother was pleading. The manager's face changed. He was going to be a hero. Just what they wanted.

"I'll pay you," he said trying his best to be brave. "For the girl and her mother."

Her father's face revealed a slight grin. "How much do you have, boy? I only take cash. And don't be lyin' or you'll be sleeping with one eye open the rest of your life."

"One thousand here and two more in the back." He voice remained unwavering.

Krista took her cue.

"Please just give it to him," she sobbed.

The manager looked at her in surprise and then back at the helpless woman, her daughter and the crazy boyfriend. Before he could say anything else, Krista watched her father shake her sister more.

"Go get the rest of the money. Quickly, or all of their lives are on you."

The manager took one last look at everyone and ran into the back. They all stayed in the same positions with the same expressions on their faces, except Krista glanced at her sister and gave her a slight wink of approval. The manager came back into the room with a bag of money.

"Just give it here and I'll let these ladies go."

The manager gave one last brave look at us all and handed the man the money. Krista's father released her sister who went straight to her mother.

"Thank you," her mother sobbed holding her close.

Krista watched as her father gave a nod and ran out the back.

"How can we ever thank you?" Krista heard her mother ask pleadingly. "I will keep to my promise, I will work for every day. When should I start tomorrow?"

The manager looked at her in surprise. His adrenaline was fading. He couldn't believe that this just happened. Krista approached him.

"You were so brave," she said with a hint of flirtation. "Call me. I'm going to wait for the police outside."

The manager looked at her surprised. Krista gave a small smile.

"I called them while you were being a hero," she grinned.

Krista gave him her card and started for the door. He didn't call after her. She exchanged looks subtly with her sister and her mother before she disappeared out into the dark night.

She walked confidently down the street. Looking over her shoulder and waiting for a slight second she followed the back alleys for a few blocks. She looped around to a busy street and caught a taxi. She got out at a crowded corner and walked four more blocks and then took another taxi. Finally, she ended up on another crowded street at an old town house. She finally stopped at the second floor at the last door on the right. She unlocked it. After peering her shoulder one last time, she opened it.

"About time, kiddo," her father laughed. "That guy was a pansy ass bitch, eh?"

Krista gave a soft smile as she took off her boots. She began to change and pack up her belongings. After such a big heist as that, the family rule was to move on. When she was about finished, the door creaked open. She didn't look up because she knew who it was. Her sister climbed up next to her.

"Where are we going now?" her sister asked curiously.

"To a new place, kiddo" Krista said with a smile as she pulled her sister close.

"Do you think we can play a family in the next place? I like those visits the best," her voice was hopeful while not being wistful.

Krista looked down at her with a sigh. She felt as if she had a more normal childhood, despite its deception. She couldn't help but feel bad for her sister. What this all she would ever know?

After trading cars and splitting up the money, the family broke up and drove across two states before meeting up again. It was the routine. They needed to not stick out. Each day they drove with someone different. Eventually they would meet up after Krista's father repainted the license plates and switched cars at least twice.

They settled in a small hotel room after their routine week on the road. It was long enough for Krista's father to grow facial hair and for her mom and her sister to dye their hair or get hair cuts. They always tried their best to cover their tracks.

Later that night, Krista tried her best to keep her sister distracted from the fact that her mother was getting drunk. However, in a small hotel room and with her mother being the woman she was, it was a difficult task. Krista never questioned her mother's love. She knew it wasn't there. What she questioned was why her mother stuck around.

Krista stirred in her sleep a few hours later. She could feel her sisters small frame snuggled up against her. She kept her eyes closed started to fall back asleep, but the murmurs of her parents' voices brought her back to the waking world.

"What's the next big gig?" Krista heard her mother ask.

Krista remained still.

"I don't know if we should do another big gig, honey," her father said quietly. "We should lay low. Our number one priority isn't the money."

"It's the girls," her mother sighed in drunken frustration. "I know, but remember the good old days? When it was just you and me?"

Krista felt her heart skip a beat. She heard her father hesitate.

"That was sixteen years ago. We can't keep having this conversation. We love them-" His angry whispers were getting louder.

"Sixteen years ago, Frank, she shouldn't have happened. Nothing should have happened six years ago either," her voice was raging. Her voice calmed at the next comment she made, but remained enraged all at the same time. "Twenty years ago shouldn't have happened . . ."

Krista heard her father get up.

"You're drunk. Stop talking. You can't continue to want to disown them. I won't put up with it."

Her mother gave a scoff.

"Sure you will, Frank," her words slurred. "You always do. I gave birth to them. You don't think I try to love them every damn day? I do. But you know what I think about? Those nine months of hell they put us through. The crying when they are babies. . . . I won't do this anymore."

"Fuck you," his words sneered.

There was a long pause before he started again and when he did his words were soft but distinct and dripping with meaning.

"If you want out, no one's holding you here."

With those words, he turned out the last lamp.

If Krista had a dime for every time she heard a conversation like this, she would be a rich woman. However, hearing it more frequently never made her feel any better. It made it hurt worse. Her mother had run off to go on her own adventure multiple times. But for some reason, she always came back. Not knowing when she would leave next hurt just as much as not having her there at all. Krista pulled her sister close and shut her eyes and tried to will herself to sleep.

The next morning when Krista woke up she heard a car leaving outside. She gave a light sigh. She knew it was her mother. She sat up slowly in time for her father to come in. He gave her a slightly deflated look.

"Sorry, kiddo," he said as he sat down next to her careful not to wake her sister.

Her father certainly had not been the perfect man. She had to grow up quickly. Despite several levels of maturity, even though she was sixteen, every time her mother left she felt as if she was eight years old again.

She watched his father for a moment. He always looked so worn out. From far away he always looked like a hero. Close-up, he was a man worn from dreams that were never fulfilled. He gave a pained smile.

"You know what will make us all feel better?"

Krista gave a small smile.

"Pacific Playland?" she asked expectantly.

He gave a smirk and a nod.

Wichita was brought back to the present in a jolt. She was in the back seat of the car. She looked around her. Immediately spotting that Little Rock, who sat next to her, was fine, she looked ahead of them to the road.

"Great," she muttered, unimpressed.

There was a herd of zombies running toward their car. Tallahassee looked back at them with a mischievous smile.