Chapter 5 – Dialogues, Crises and Confrontations
Ellie
Since yesterday afternoon the orientation and training of the community's residents has begun. Alexia chose twenty-five people, among them me, to start learning what was needed, as well as the main leaders of the locality who joined the accredited ones. The three training shifts were eventful; the strong woman as a bull seemed to know exactly what to do both in explaining everything to us and in practice, as the last one, which had ended about an hour ago, had taken place in the streets of Portland.
She taught us in practice how to kill the toughest runners - we had been lucky because we had run into a numerous horde that gave us some difficulty, but we managed to work as a team, annihilate them with the long-range rifles, and burn the enemies to eliminate the Cordyceps and its spores, just as we needed to learn.
The outdoor activity did not seem to be a difficult task in the extreme as long as it was done carefully, so I did not understand why we had to live with her unwanted presence for several days - especially me having her in my home. I would like to resolve this situation as soon as possible and get rid of the figure that had been in my home since yesterday, but all the Campbells asked of me was patience. Since I have immense respect and regard for them for having taken in Maria, Dina, JJ and myself, I chose to comply.
During most of my free time from yesterday I stayed away from my residence in order to escape the unpleasant company of Joel's murderer as much as I could as well as my past which aroused deep bitterness in me. However, as I had to keep an eye on her, since it was a request made to me by Alexia, sooner or later I would return to my home. And this is what happened that late afternoon just as I had done the day before, as soon as I entered my house after slamming the door violently.
To my complete relief she was neither in the living room nor in the kitchen, so I just threw myself on the sofa in a nonchalant manner after taking off my backpack and leaving it beside the desk. I sat there for a few moments just listening to the silence around me, but then went to my room to put away my weapons and change my clothes.
As I was near the bathroom, I could hear the sound of the shower running and slowly rolled my eyes; having someone sharing the space with me was already something different and, even more so because it was Abby, I had to admit that it was unthinkable that we would occupy the same room in a peaceful or at least civilized way.
However, I didn't like in the least the almost spontaneous acceptance she enjoyed in front of the children. Most of the adults would not even look at her or speak to her, because of all that Dina and I had endured in the theater in Seattle, and since people had undeniable appreciation for us, all they did was not treat her well from what I had reported.
Yet the strong-as-a-bull woman didn't complain, she didn't even seem to mind the fact that people ignored her, because the children loved her. She interacted with Serena, JJ and the others in ways I never thought possible. Despite having little time with the residents around here, except for those who were in training, at dinner last night, which was the night of the long-awaited community meeting, and at breakfast this morning Abby was the attraction with the little ones, much to my chagrin.
I never imagined that she could act in an affable manner with anyone, although this was the second time I was surprised by something like this, because ten years ago, when I went to Santa Barbara to get back at her and released her from the pilaster, the first thing Abby did was to release the boy named Lev with immense concern and affection, to carry him to one of the boats that were anchored on the beach so that they could reach the destination they had set out for at the time.
I could not understand how the person who killed Joel could be capable of gestures so contrary to what had been done to him in such a monstrous way, nor could I understand how the person in question could treat children in such a relaxed and cheerful manner. As I watched her act gently with JJ early this morning, as if she had known him for a long time, I felt uncomfortable because something told me that I was being unfair; all I could see in front of me, however, was Joel's murderer. I didn't feel able to dissociate her image from what happened that day at the Baldwin mansion, no matter how hard I tried.
As I left the bedroom to return to the kitchen, I bumped into her as she was leaving the adjoining room. My room was the last door in the hallway, which was next to the bathroom. Upon seeing her I took a few steps back on pure instinct, unable to face her, although she was just holding the towel that had been given to her by Alexia.
"Do you know if there will be a community dinner today?" The inquiry took me by surprise.
"No, that only happens once a month and will probably take a while to occur, because we'll be leaving Portland soon." I grumbled.
"So, what can I eat?"
"I don't know, it's not my problem. Either dig something or talk to the Campbells. My job is to make sure you don't attack anyone with a bat. I replied, unhappy to have her in my house.
It was only after I had spoken rudely that I turned my eyes to Abby. Her body was undeniably well built, the muscles in her abdomen and arms even more evident because the white T-shirt she was wearing was made of a thin fabric. Her hair was loose, which gave her a different look without the usual braid. Her sweatpants were tightly cut, so I could see that her thighs were probably quite shapely... Startled to notice her physique I quickly looked away and returned to my room, although I could see her smile briefly as she moved the corners of her lips in a discreet manner. All I wished for was for this damned mission to be over, for all of us to be trained as quickly as possible so that we could leave Portland, because having her in my residence was something massacring to me.
The uncomfortable feeling became even greater when upon arriving in the living room, I found her sitting in front of my desk making some notes. "Hey! That's my seat." I spoke, again failing to look at her directly.
"I need to log the workouts; this desk looks comfortable."
"Do it, but not here. Go to your fucking room and..."
"We won't be able to succeed in the mission if you continue this childish behavior." She replied, as she put down her notebook and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"You think so?" I inquired; my tone sarcastic.
"Yes."
I laughed humorlessly and closed my hands into fists. "What behavior did you expect me to exhibit, being that you murdered with a damn golf club the most important person in my life?!"
"I'm very sorry." That was all she offered in response, yet she didn't move a single step to stand.
"Are you saying you're sorry?"
"Not exactly. I am sorry that you went through something similar to what I experienced when I was only fifteen. But I won't lie to you, I don't regret killing him."
In a thoughtless act, as if my body was acting on its own volition, my right hand hit her face with such force that it was enough to make her lose her balance and knock her off the chair. I felt irritated because she didn't show any kind of regret about what she had done to Joel, which made me wonder what I would decide to do with her after the training was over, because if at any point I had even considered sparing her, it was now out of the question.
"You're a bastard…" I growled, sitting sideways under her torso as I repeatedly punched her in the face.
Abby held my wrists with some force as I tried to free myself from her grip, however she was much stronger physically than I was, but not strong enough to get me off her, even though she did her best to push me with her elbow hip in a clear demonstration that she didn't intend to fight me.
Her face was bleeding from her lower lip and left cheek from some of my blows. But I didn't care. I simply couldn't stop to listen to reason in that moment of rage, especially when having the subject of Joel's death so present in my thoughts.
I arched my body upward enough to step with some force on her thigh. Abby groaned low in pain, however, she released my wrists and managed to push me from my position with such abruptness that I fell to lying on the cold floor of the room.
We scuffled again, because I wouldn't give up trying to hit her at any cost. If Joel had suffered, I believed that she should feel the consequences of what she had done to him. However, she definitely didn't want the clash; she pushed me again and moved to the opposite side of the room with some speed, out of my reach as I continued to lie on the floor, breathing noisily.
"If I can continue the conversation instead of us using our fists... I'm sorry I did to you what he did to me, Ellie." She continued her reasoning as she gasped.
"What the fuck are you saying? What story are you going to tell to self-abolish?" Although I inquired, I wasn't sure if I wanted my questioning answered.
"The doctor that Joel Miller killed on April twenty-eighth, fifteen years ago, was my father." Her tone was restrained, sad and somber. "That's why I didn't state my reasons to you in the theater in Seattle, because it was too painful a subject for me to justify what I did to a stranger."
"We're not exactly close enough for you to tell me that now." I spat angrily.
"I know, but we had extremely relevant actions in each other's lives. Because Lev got my attention in the theater, I left Dina and you are alive, and because of that you let me off the pilaster a year later."
"Don't thank me. I had gone there to kill you." I replied, in an attempt to irritate her.
"I know, but ironically it was you who saved me, who helped me get someone innocent off the pilaster, otherwise Lev would be dead."
I stood up and sat in the chair after putting it back in front of the desk, since because of our little struggle the object had toppled over. It scared me significantly that we were talking, being that I had just had a pike of anger a few moments ago.
"What the hell do you want from me now? Why did you come for this mission, being that you could send any of your friends here?" I asked without looking at her, after a few seconds of tense silence.
"I can't change the past, Ellie, neither I nor anyone else has the power to do that. But I believe that, ten years after the day we fought in Santa Barbara, you and I are mature enough to face the facts, to have some kind of dialogue. That's why I just told you what Joel did to my father, for the same reason that I understand why you killed people in cold blood in Seattle… I'd be a hypocrite if I judged you, don't worry, I won't do that anymore, even if they were my friends and I cared about them. But just as I understand your motivation for getting revenge, I want to try to make you understand my reasons, before you choose to kill me, or maybe you again end up letting me live, so that I can help more people to survive in this world of shit."
Her speech shook me intimately in a way that I didn't feel able to put into words. I had never been as good as she seemed to be at such conversations, especially since, when I had tried to express my feelings to Joel years ago, I had been received rudely by him. I had never had a family throughout my childhood and adolescence, I didn't even know what it was like to have the affection of a mother or a father. I lived in a lonely way in a FEDRA quarantine zone, although I met a few times with Marlene, who was the closest person I had to a family until then.
What little love I had was in mutual survival with Joel, who after almost a year of crossing the country with me to deliver me to the Fireflies, took me to Jackson so that I could have a life. However, even though I was not sacrificed in the hospital as I would have liked to be – even after I found out that getting the vaccine would cause my death –, I knew in my heart that his gestures were a valuable show of affection for me – at least that's the way I looked at it –, even though I didn't like it one bit that I had been plucked from Salt Lake without even having a chance to talk to the doctor who was going to perform the surgery, who I was now absolutely certain was the father of the woman I hated most in the world. I just didn't know what I should do with this information, whether I really needed to say anything to her or not, because if there was something to be said, I didn't know how to start.
Maybe Abby was right after all, maybe hating her for past events didn't help anymore, especially a decade later, yet I didn't know how to make this feeling stop. For this reason, I stood up and, without taking my backpack or my knife that had fallen out of my pocket during the fight we had just had, I left my house without saying a word and without looking back.
I needed a few minutes alone, because when there were only the two of us in the same environment I couldn't even act in a civilized way. All the anger I had had kept for years came back with full force, and all I wished I had asked her during those moments I sat there without saying anything was: how did she do it? How did she just overlook everything bad I had done to her; how did she bury the past so easily? However, I chose to do what I always used to do when a situation demanded a lot from me: run away. It was easier than facing the facts.
I hurriedly went to an area duly protected by local residents, who had put up a fence around the residential area at the back of the place we occupied, in which there were some grapevines that were full of grapes. I sat down nearby and suddenly felt bad without my diary in hand or even my sketchbook. I had to do something to express how I felt, or the panic I experienced years ago would come back with full force, all because I saw the one person who aroused such confusion in me.
The feeling only got worse, so I started breathing hard and felt my hands get cold, and my vision blurred. I closed my eyes tightly while my heart was beating too fast as if I was running away from a horde; I was breathing heavily and all I could do was wait for the bad feeling to pass, because I knew there was nothing that could alleviate it.
Suddenly, a hand on my shoulder was enough to startle me a little, but not enough for me to have any kind of abrupt reaction; I was more distressed to contain the emotional crisis and the insistent ringing in my ears that drowned out any other sound around me, than properly seeking to know who me was beside.
"Take a deep breath."
It was her, the tone strangely gentle, the expression concerned, as she did what she was directing me as if to encourage me to follow her. At first, I didn't want to accompany her in the relaxation exercise, but moments later, as the crisis only got stronger, I decided to accept the help she was offering me.
Then I heard her whisper a request for me to take off my boots, and even though I didn't quite understand why, I did as I was asked and put my bare feet on the floor. However, I still had my eyes closed, as if I feared that when I opened them, I would be in a nightmare, and she would kill me.
"Tell me what you feel."
"The earth… The grass that is damp, your hand on my shoulder…"
"Okay. What do you see?"
With questioning I was forced to open my eyes and face her. "Besides you?"
"Yes."
"The sky is already dark, the grapevines in front of us, there are fireflies a few feet away from us… Not soldiers, but yeah… Real fireflies."
Abby laughed lightly at the realization made by me, and suddenly the sound made me feel different. "Okay. What do you hear?"
"The crickets that are nearby…"
"And smells, do you smell any?"
"From the grapes and the grass." I answered, before taking a deep breath. The crisis was beginning to subside, I seemed to feel that I had mastered my body again.
"Are you feeling better?"
"I... Yeah… I… Thank you." I spoke, visibly out of embarrassed.
"You don't have to thank me. I think it's the least I can do."
"I still don't understand what you want from me… But I think I'll figure it out in the two weeks ahead of us."
"Maybe I just want to be polite." She replied, before handing me my knife and standing. "Do you want to be alone?"
I was surprised to hear her inquire, because it was unnatural for someone to ask me that kind of question. "I'd like, yeah."
Without her insisting that she stays by my side or asking me anything about what had just occurred, she merely walked away. As for me, I remained quiet for countless minutes, unable to come up with a solution as to what I should do about the person who had just assisted me.
I don't know how long I stayed in the forest alone, but I suddenly felt hungry and decided to move. However, I didn't go back home; since I imagined that she might be there, I preferred to go to the residence that Dina, Alexia and JJ shared. I walked slowly, heavy steps because, although I had improved from the crisis, I felt my body was exhausted. Maybe it was the day of training, or maybe it was because of the emotional exhaustion? I didn't know for sure.
I stopped in front of the door of their house and hesitated before knocking. I could hear the happy laughter of JJ and the two women; it was a happy family that I had no right to pester with my problems. I turned away and walked a few steps distractedly, not knowing where to go. My feet then led me to the small bar in the community.
Johny was the man in charge of looking after and keeping the establishment functional. He served sandwiches and craft beers, which could suffice for me. As soon as I got there, I occupied a small table with two seats that was as far away from the entrance door and near one of the windows as possible, because all I wanted least was to have another of those strange crises, I had experienced hours before.
I ordered a drink from the short fellow and sat still, sipping the liquid in small sips in a desperate attempt to feel better. I was so engrossed in my musings that I didn't even notice that someone had sat down in front of me.
"Are you okay, girl?"
It was Alexander and Alexia's father. We used to talk since Maria, Dina, JJ and I arrived in town. He was a man around fifty, with a quiet temperament who liked to listen to stories, but who acted harshly with those who tried to hurt the people he cared about. He had gray hair and vivid blue eyes, always attentive to everything around him.
"I'm better off than I was a few hours ago, if that's any consolation." I finally said, my tone restrained.
"It's just that you don't look well."
"I know." I replied, before sipping my beer. "What made you notice?"
"Your expression is one of sadness, and you're drinking without feeding." Gregory commented, visibly concerned. "Before the outbreak, when people did this in bars, it was because they'd had heartbreak." He continued, which made me roll my eyes. "But I know that's not what happened to you at all."
"Not really." I hastened to speak.
"You have looked different since yesterday, when that girl came here to instruct us." He stated. "I can see it in your look. I'm old enough as it is, and there are certain things that there's no hiding from me. So, if you want to talk about it, I will also order a beer and I am willing to listen to what you have to tell me. But on one condition."
"What?"
"I'll order sandwiches, too. We had a heavy day of training; we faced a whole horde, and you need to replenish your strength."
Since I needed someone to listen, I silently nodded, not least because my stomach really complained about being empty. I watched him get up and go to the counter Johny was at to place his order, until minutes later Gregory returned to the table with a tray that contained two plates and a beer.
"Thanks." I thanked him as he picked up one of the plates.
"You're welcome. So, I'm listening." He began, as he looked at me intently. "What's ailing you?"
"You know about the whole story that went on between Abby and I…"
"Yes."
"I just don't know how to act towards her." I spoke too quickly, as if my body was expelling the words, I was struggling to hold in.
"Well, you have two choices: hate her forever and live unhappy that you can't forgive yourself or open yourself up to the possibility of getting to know her better."
"I don't know if I feel ready to live civilly with the murderer of the man I had as a father."
"I understand. But you won't know unless you try. Don't you agree?" He inquired, as he sketched a smile.
I nodded in a slight movement of my head. "I just don't understand what you mean by forgiving me… And what does that have to do with hating her or not?"
"You know I'm sincere, don't you?"
"Yeah, I know."
"Okay, so there's no point in getting mad later if you end up hearing something different than you expect."
I flashed a smile. "I'm not going to be mad, not at you." I assured.
"You may not hate her, but you hate the fact that you can't forgive yourself for things happening have the way they were, for Joel being killed the day after you said you were willing to try to forgive him. And when you see the Soldier Abigail, you personify, you see it all in her figure." Gregory commented cautiously, while at the same time analyzing my expression. "You don't know her, Ellie. None of us here know her, really. And we're acting intransigently, if we reason coldly." He paused his speech to sip his beer. "When I was on my way to this bar, I witnessed a scene that stunned me; I got to thinking about how whoever killed Joel and did what he did just now could be the same person, and I came to a conclusion that made sense to me."
"What happened?" I inquired, fearful that she had had some aggressive reaction with someone. But judging by the way he was talking; it had probably been the opposite.
"JJ was being harassed by some bigger kids, two 15-year-old teenagers, brothers Richard and Tyler. She came out in his defense on the spot, even though she knew he was Dina's son and Jesse, the man she murdered."
"Wait... She did that?"
"Yeah. I was surprised at the moment too, because I didn't understand how the same person who killed Joel so cruelly could have come out in defense of JJ like that, stood up to the boys and everything..."
"What did she do?"
"She stopped them from pushing JJ and told them to stop pestering him, then called Maria and Dina." He replied. "They were fearful because of such close proximity to Abigail, but I think she possesses enough detachment to handle that situation."
"I think so, because she acts similarly to me." I commented, before I finished eating my sandwich. "And I was surprised too, because before she came here, we had fought, she and I."
"When you say fought…"
"Physically. I started the fight." I admitted with a heavy sigh. "As soon as she told me some things, that she can't fix the past, but that she's willing to try to convince me that I should leave her alive later... I ran. I left my house because I desperately needed to be alone, but unfortunately I didn't feel very well." I paused my speech to take a long sip of my beer. "I was near the grapevines when my heart raced, my hands froze, my ears plugged... I was breathing fast and hard... It was horrible. I thought I was going to die."
"Before the outbreak we called it a panic or anxiety crisis."
"Really?"
"Yeah. At the time we even had specialists called psychologists, who treated people stricken with something like that." He told me.
"I read about it in a book."
"Well then, unfortunately we don't have that resource now." He commented amused.
"But did it work?"
"I don't know, I never needed any such professional, but I believe it did. At least people turned to professionals in psychology and psychiatry often and it was a constant concern before the fungus." He replied sympathetically. "But tell me, how did you get better from the crisis?"
"It was Abby. I didn't realize I had been found by her... I don't even know exactly how it was that she found me so quickly... It would even be something I'd like to ask. I had a constant feeling that I was going to die, but when she started helping me by asking me to breathe and to notice the things around me, I got better, as if I could focus on the world around me and not in the crisis." I told, still surprised that I had been helped by the other woman. "So… Maybe you're right: we don't know her at all." I spoke, before turning my eyes back to him, just as I had finished my sandwich. "But you said you came to a conclusion, right?"
"Exactly."
"What?" I asked curiously.
"That Soldier Abigail Anderson is the same person who brutally killed Joel and who took Jesse's life, but who is also capable of acts of kindness like the ones you told me about with the little boy who follows her wherever she goes and like the one I witnessed defending JJ... Or even in helping you… Because she is human, she is as human as we are, Ellie. So maybe it would be interesting for you to at least observe her in these two or three weeks, not to think of killing her only for past facts, no matter how relevant they may be." He pondered. "I'm not talking about forgiving her, because I know that's a much more complex process that requires you to forgive yourself above all else, but at least trying to see her as someone who might deserve something other than death might be a good idea." He suggested.
I took a deep breath to digest what I had just heard. Gregory was one of the few people who listened to me, who knew how complex my problems were, including about the nullity I experienced when the subject of my immunity came up. He always had balanced opinions about everything, so I enjoyed listening to him whenever possible.
"Well, I think two or three weeks will be enough for me to make a decision."
"I think so." He sketched a smile as he noticed that I was reassured.
We continued to have friendly dialogues about the uncertain fate of the community and how tense we felt about the fact that smarter and fiercer infected were surrounding us, until I felt ready to go home. I said a visibly grateful goodbye to him and left Johny's bar much lighter emotionally.
I didn't know if I would find Abby awake, but I wished my reaction would at least be calmer this time if we saw each other. On the way I ran into Dina, who related to me what had happened to JJ and the older boys; she also told me that her son had been helped by the last person she thought would do anything, but that she felt grateful anyway and had come to my house to tell that to the stronger woman.
As soon as we had wished each other goodnight and I had watched her safely enter her home, I walked a few more yards to enter my own residence. The dwelling was completely dark; I sighed as I sneaked inside and went to my room.
As I passed through the hallway, I noticed that the door to Abby's room was closed, which probably indicated that she didn't want to talk to anyone or that she had already gone to bed, since we would be waking up early for two more training shifts that she commanded.
So, I decided to respect her space and headed to my room to get a t-shirt and pants to change into after showering. It took some time before I was dressed again in a more comfortable outfit, because I preferred to take advantage of the fact that we had electricity and could enjoy hot water to feel the liquid relaxing my muscles.
After I got dressed, I went back into the living room to get my sketchbook. I approached the desk cautiously, noticing that both my diary and the other notebook were in the same position I had left them in before I left, which meant that she had not even touched them.
With the object in hand, I went to my room, since there was a case with several typical drawing pens in it. As soon as I sat down on the bed and flipped through the notebook to a blank page, I began to draw the picture I wanted: Abby sitting next to me with her hand on my shoulder as she was helping me overcome a panic crisis.
The next morning was uneventful. We left early as soon as we finished breakfast, for another practical lesson in downtown Portland. We were a little tense, however, because we knew that the area had not only abandoned buildings but also large pockets of mold, which could make our learning difficult. But Abby took a safe position, arguing that we needed to know how to act in such inhospitable environments, which I mentally agreed with in the end.
Once we reached the central region, she explained to us that, from her own experience especially in the last few years of fighting runners with enhanced abilities, she noticed that they seemed to have some progressive improvement in hearing; 'the stronger they became the more they listened,' she concluded, urging us to be careful with side dialogues so that we didn't attract the creatures' attention.
As there were thirty-one of us, and Abby was walking beside Alexia, I strayed from the group to enter a partially destroyed bookstore. I had had the opportunity to read a few books as a teenager, but not as many as I would have liked; I entered the space in order to find something for myself, and I also needed to find something that would connect me in some way with the strongest woman, because I definitely didn't know where to start a civilized conversation with her.
Countless copies lay on the floor, some torn, some dusty, but many of them seemed in good condition. However, it occurred to me how right Gregory was: I did not know the person who was now instructing our residents, because I simply did not know what to get her to read in her spare time.
And so absorbed was I in front of the various books on various subjects that I didn't even realize that a runner was watching me; I only realized when he lifted me off the floor by pulling me by my right arm and kicked me hard in the stomach, before pressing me violently against the nearest bookshelf.
I roared in pain as my spine took the full brunt of the blow, while I shielded my face with the arm, he hadn't held in a desperate attempt to keep me from being bitten by him, although he made no move to do so. I tried to kick him from below to make him lose his balance, and when I did, I too went down. I was punched twice hard in the head before he ripped off my backpack, something that so far, no other infected had done, with one of the punches hitting me in the forehead and just as I felt everything was about to lose focus, I heard the sound of gunfire echo through the bookstore.
"Ellie!" It was Alexia's voice, who ran up to me in desperation to check if I was okay. She crouched down to examine me and took a deep breath once she ascertained that the infected hadn't bitten me. "Damn, what a scare you gave us, girl!"
"He's dead." It was then that I could hear Abby's voice, which made me doubtful as to who had fired. "Proceed with the squad, I will stay here to help you, we will catch up with you soon."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Go… We're not going to kill each other." I commented softly.
Alexia nodded and stood up to leave the scene, while the stronger woman kicked the body of the dead infected man out of the bookstore without any kindness, in order for it to be burned. I was sitting up, eyes ajar, when I watched her come back near for me. We had not talked earlier today, only what was necessary in view of the mission in the downtown area, but we had not exchanged any specific words. The silence that surrounded us was somewhat awkward, but not as tense as the previous two days. Suddenly she opened the backpack she was carrying to take out kit first aid items, since I had a small cut on my head.
"Was it you who shot it, or was it Alexia?" I inquired as I sat down, relieved that I had found a way to start the conversation.
"It was her. I had the rifle in my hand too, but since I realized she had hit it first time, I put my gun away to check you."
"I shouldn't have put mine away…"
"Yeah, that's one of the guidelines, you know." Abby's tone was gentle.
"I know, but maybe I considered this too quiet of an environment." I justified myself. "I don't know… I don't know what was going through my mind at the time."
"No problem don't even worry about it. It was a small cut, you probably hit your head when he pushed you or when you fell, something like that."
"I guess so." Her touch as she bandaged it was gentle in a way, I never thought possible. I closed my eyes and caught myself caught in that feeling of care that no one had had for me in a long time, though I held back a sigh at feeling her so close to me. "I had come to get books… For us."
"That's right?"
"Yeah. I don't read much, but I'm curious." I replied with a light smile.
"I read a lot in my spare time, I like to know about practical things and read fictional tales, too."
"I'd better know, then."
"Why?"
"I'm just trying to be polite." I returned, as I quoted a phrase, she had told me at the end of the previous day, when she had helped me in the moments when I was in crisis.
"Point for you, little girl."
"What did you call me?" I inquired, pretending to be offended as I noticed that she displayed a mocking smile.
"Little girl." She repeated, defiantly.
"I'm not a little girl, huh… I'm as grown up a woman as you are!" I complained.
Abby laughed. "Okay, okay, woman as grown up as me who got knocked down by a runner, let's get back to the squadron before they show up to look for us."
Her tone was amused, which made me show my tongue before I pulled away. "Did you call me a little girl because I'm shorter than you?"
"Obviously!"
"I may be smaller in size, but I know and very well how to even things out in a fight."
"On that I can't disagree." She replied, as she handed me back my backpack and then looked away.
It was then that I realized two things, one good and one bad: the good was that her eyes were a shade of blue that I considered beautiful, orbs of a grayish blue that changed hue depending on the light or the environment we were in; I felt that I could watch those eyes for a long time, but it scared me to face her like that. However, I also realized that, hearing me talk, she had probably remembered the times we had faced each other, perhaps even more from the night on the beach in Santa Barbara, which was far from a good thing.
I was annoyed with myself for having reminded her of a bad fact, because this was definitely not my intention. After all, it had been the first time that I realized how much fun Soldier Abby Anderson could be, which made it clear that maybe it was worth getting to know her more and more.