Chapter 7: Liquid Courage
Each day out here was longer and harder than ever. It made Bailey realize how much she had taken the farm for granted. Back there, they at least had a steady supply of food coming from the garden and the chickens, as well as whatever papa was able to scrounge from hunting in the surrounding woods. But now, they had no garden or chickens, and not many wild animals roamed the streets. They had to rely on supply runs to nearby stores and houses, which seemed to bear them little results. Everything in the nearby area had been looted well, and it became more apparent day by day that they couldn't stay where they were. However, traveling was somewhat difficult given Chris's situation.
It had been weeks since his leg had been set, but he still needed more time to heal before he could function properly. He was able to bear a little bit of weight on it now, but mama wanted him using it as little as possible. Because she didn't have any pins or screws to keep it in place when she aligned the bones, he had to be much more careful than if it had been a regular surgery. At the most, Chris was allowed to be a look out and keep things tidy and organized around the pub.
Between all of them, they only had two guns. Her shotgun, and a handgun they'd found by pure luck. Because of her papa's paranoia, she kept the shotgun on her at all times, whereas the handgun was passed around to anyone on watch or on a run if she didn't go. She knew it wasn't fair that she had a gun on her at all times, but there was no arguing with her papa on it.
Days became long and hard while nights were short and sleepless. It was hard to find enjoyment out of anything anymore. Her thoughts often lingered on the horrifying images of her abuelo's death and the walker herd surrounding their home. She didn't speak much - only when she was directly spoken to. Out of everyone, this grieved Sam the most. He had seen her so full of life before and now she was a mirror image of the muertos.
Chris did his best to lift her spirits, but even his words couldn't penetrate the shell she had begun to form around herself. The empty feeling dragged on for days, not wavering for anything, until one night when it seemed like Sam didn't want to see her like it anymore.
Mama and papa had gone to bed, leaving all of the children awake. Alejandro was supposed to be on watch for half of the night, but there wasn't much to watch. Not one person had come by the town since they got there and muertos were very scarce.
Bailey had gotten comfortable in one of the corners, pulling up her blanket and resting next to Bruno as she stared blankly at the wall, a hand absently stroking the dark fur of her companion.
Sam was the first to approach. At first, she didn't look up. But he had brought with him a lantern, and after he settled down next to her, she took a glance. To her confusion, he was carrying with him a bottle that looked suspiciously like alcohol. Growing up, she never saw Sam drink or even smoke. Alejandro had been the one to be rebellious and do each of those things.
He must've noticed her confused expression, because he smiled and uncorked the bottle.
"You know, I was about your age when I had my first drink. And we're already in a pub, so I figure this is as good a time as any for yours," he said, holding out the bottle to her.
Her eyes flickered down to the amber liquid inside, then back up to his face.
He chuckled, retracting the bottle just a little. "I know, probably not what you expect. Your good boy brother to be offering you underage alcohol. But believe me, I've never been as good as I seem."
For the first time in weeks, she cracked a smile. A small one, but it was still there. "What is it?"
"Whiskey, I think?" Sam bit his lip and looked at the label. "Yeah. Figure it's better than something soft like a beer or glass of wine."
"Are you...sure this is a good idea?" she asked, looking down at Bruno.
The dog looked up at her with a tilted head, as if knowing what she was about to do.
"You don't have to. I was just offering," he said softly.
Bailey looked back at the bottle. It couldn't hurt, could it? If anything, maybe it would help her feel a bit better. And if not, she'd just never touch it again.
With careful hands, she reached out to take the bottle from him, pausing to look at the label. She expected herself to be more hesitant than she actually was, and within seconds she rose the bottle to her lips.
A bigger swish made it through her mouth than she expected and after she swallowed the large gulp, she immediately began to sputter. The liquid had a bite, all the way down to her stomach, and she hadn't expected it. Her body racked with deep coughs and she rose a hand to her lips, squeezing her eyes shut as they began to water. Even with the harsh bite, it had a warmth to it that settled comfortably in her stomach, bringing her a certain sense of ease.
Sam chuckled as footsteps rapidly approached. Looking up through her tear-filled gaze, she saw Ale looking down in bewilderment.
"Did she just...? Samuel Garcia! You gave her alcohol?" Alejandro hissed.
Wiping her eyes, she spotted Chris approaching as well, seeming slightly concerned.
"Relax, Ale. She can handle a couple swigs of whiskey. As long as she isn't as much of a lightweight as you," Sam snickered.
"She's underage!"
"And did that stop you when you took your first drink at fifteen? A year younger than she is. You did much worse at her age. Come on, take a sip and join us. We could all do with a bit of relaxing for once."
Finally regaining her composure, she shot a small smile up at Alejandro. "I'm fine, brother. Really. I feel fine."
Alejandro snorted. "You just drank it. You're not going to feel anything for a little bit. Give me that."
He bent down and took the bottle, settling himself on her other side. In spite of everything that happened, she felt the stirrings of happiness in her chest.
Sam turned his attention to Chris. "Have you ever had any?"
Chris shook his head. "No."
"Well, like I told Bailey, now's as good a time as any."
He gestured for the other teen to take a seat, which he did as best as he could given his leg. They all sat in a small circle, with her brothers at her sides and Chris across from her. After Alejandro had taken his turn, he carefully passed it to Chris. He examined the bottle, just as she had, but seemed more hesitant. However, upon seeing everyone watch him expectantly, he finally tilted it back.
His reaction was much like her own. As soon as it went past his lips, he spluttered and coughed. She could see why Sam laughed when she had done it - it was rather amusing.
He recovered much more quickly than she had, but she couldn't suppress a giggle anyway. At this noise, he perked his head, chocolate brown eyes locking with hers as he smiled. Something about the depths of his gaze comforted her and she leaned back, relaxing a little.
"The children have been christened!" Sam laughed. "Don't drink too much more. Or you'll have a hangover in the morning."
"Just a sip or two more and we'll be done. Promise," she said, taking the bottle from Chris and taking another sip.
This time, it went down much more easily, but she still was unable to suppress a wince. For a couple moments, they passed the bottle around, taking small sips and easing into a deeper relaxation as the buzz began to form. Sam was right about Ale being a lightweight. After three sips, he was already giggling like a girl and five minutes later, he'd passed out.
With a chuckle, Sam stood and grabbed the handgun that was stuffed in their brother's pants. "I'll take watch until it's time for papa. You two rest. I'm sure you're both a little buzzed by now."
He leaned down to kiss her on top of the head and she smiled up at him, letting him take the bottle before resting happily against Bruno. Sam was right, she was feeling different. Her body felt lightly tingly and a warm, happy feeling resided in her stomach. She hadn't been this content for days.
"My dad would kill me if he saw this," Chris murmured, unable to keep himself from grinning.
"Mine too," she laughed, leaning her head against Bruno's side. After a moment of silence, she asked, "what was your papa like?"
He stared at the ceiling thoughtfully for a moment. "Kinda a jerk. But he loved me. And I loved him."
"That's how it always is, isn't it? My papa can be harsh, as you've seen. But he does it all because he cares. I think...parents do that. We think they're being harsh, but really...they're just protecting us."
Chris remained silent for a moment, his eyes drifting out of focus as he thought. She watched him lazily, wondering what he was thinking. Normally, she might stay quiet, but they had become friends and she was going to ask.
"What was everything like for you? Before?" she prodded, resting a hand on Bruno's head.
His gaze shifted to her and he looked at her, seemingly pondering. They had asked a couple personal questions here and there, but they had always refrained from telling each other everything.
"Really...kinda shitty," he admitted, his expression changing to a more somber one. "My parents were split and I lived with my mom. Got to go to my dad's on certain weekends. School sucked... Everyone hated me. Sad life I guess."
Bailey pressed her lips together, a bit of seriousness returning her from her mellowed out state. Her family had its own issues, but it sounded like things really looked down for him. Guess if he wasn't happy before and he wasn't happy now it wasn't much of a difference.
Carefully, she scooted closer to him, her eyes wide and doe-like. "That's the past. All of us have it as a part of us but...we can move forward. And...we might not be living in the best world now but...we're forward. In a different time. And...for the record..."
With a brief burst of courage that was likely from the alcohol, she leaned forward, pressing her lips close to his ear.
"I don't hate you," she whispered, voice hot and laced with the warm scent of whiskey. "Far from it."
Goosebumps formed on his skin and she spotted a shiver crawl up his spine. He remained silent for a moment, seemingly trying to process her words, before he leaned over too, mimicking what she had just done.
"Good. Because I don't hate you either," he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her ear. "Far from it."
A hot flush rose to her cheeks and her stomach churned with heat and butterflies. He kept his mouth near her ear, breathing slowly, seeming hesitant. Gingerly, he tucked his head in, his lips momentarily brushing against the dip of her jaw just below her ear, leaving hot trails of fire in their wake.
Bailey nearly gasped. Whatever alcohol that was in her system seemed to leave immediately and she swallowed thickly.
Chris moved away, a coy smile on his face as he slowly got to his feet. "Goodnight, Bailey."
A/N: I'm back! After months I finally finish something. This chapter is so incredibly short, but I needed to get something out and figured if I get this out it'll at least be a step in the right direction. Hopefully I can get back into the swing of things and start writing more regularly again. I'm sorry if this chapter isn't the best, but after my depression it was hard to start writing again. But I'm confident now that I'm moving forward I can start writing better again! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and thank you for sticking with me throughout everything. You guys are the best!