RIVER FLOWS NORTH — PART 3

Morning came swiftly, filling the shelter with direct sunlight, turning the room into a hot box that made it almost unbearable to breathe.

Troy eased himself onto his elbows and blinked the lingering touch of sleep from his eyes, slowly sitting up to lean back against the closed door for support.

The Clark siblings were still asleep as far as he could tell, curled up against one another. He let them sleep for a while longer and then proceeded to move about the small space, searching through the few items the former inhabitants had left behind to see if there was anything they could use or would need. There was no food, no clothes, and from what he could tell, everything was absolute junk.

He got to his feet, picked up his rifle, and cautiously headed outside to relieve himself.

There were no solid dreams of nightmares Nick could recollect when Troy's shuffling around woke him. There had been water, and there had been the hot box he recalled from another vision. There have been snippets of what had happened on the bridge between him and the proctors. All a jumble of images and words.

Nick shifted subtly, to not wake Alicia a little while longer, wincing mutely at the intensified pains inside him, and snuck out after Troy.

Otto was zipping his fly and all but jumped when Nick came out. A few dead walked aimlessly in the distance down the road. More were unseen from this vantage point.

"You slept okay?" Nick asked quietly. "Passed out like a dead last night."

Troy took a short step away from where he'd pissed against the side of the small shack, eyeing the dead in the distance. He didn't suppose they'd picked up on their scent yet because they weren't rushing toward them and were doing their every way dance of pointlessness, but he fought the instinct to put them down anyway – to clear them out.

Better safe than sorry was the way he liked to work. The way he liked things done.

"As decently as to be expected," he supplied in a similar tone, smiling, giving Nick a once-over in the brightness of the morning. The sun hadn't even hit its full peak yet. Clark had bruises on his face, shades that hadn't been there the previous day and made him look as if he'd taken a literal tumble in a giant washing machine. "Are you okay? How are you uh… feeling?"

Nick shrugged listlessly. "Like I've been hit by a truck. I'm fine. I can walk, I can talk, I can protect myself. 'S all good. We need to get going. After a minute."

He strolled for the back of the house to do what Troy had done, and cast a passing glance at him, smirking.

"Don't fight your urges, take 'em out. We'll be ready in a sec."

Troy smirked slightly and observed him for any signs of a limp as he disappeared around the corner to take care of his own business. Troy saw the slight compensation in Nick's walk—indication that he was still experiencing pain somewhere—but let him have for now. He had his pride, he had his sister and he had a mission.

Alicia woke to a faceful of dirt floor, having slid down against the wall after Nick moved. Momentarily befuddled, she pushed herself up on one elbow, brushing soil from one side of her face, and took a look at her surroundings. She was alone.

Urgently, she got to her feet in the blazing heat, feeling like she was close to suffocating from the lack of fresh air, and headed outside, squinting into the rising sun.

Troy was the first thing she saw, his hair ruffled by sleep and his rifle hanging from his shoulder.

"Where's Nick?"

"Taking a leak," Troy retorted, gesturing to the spot he'd been a second ago, giving her the same studious treatment he had her brother. She forged better than he had, but the bruise around the cut on her forehead was ugly as all hell. "You need to, too? If so, I'll uh… I'll stand guard."

Alicia instinctively cast a quick glance in the direction Troy pointed out, assuming Nick had gone down the side of the shack. Her eyes narrowed slightly at his following suggestion, ever-so-suspicious and wondering whether his offer was genuine or some sort of twisted prank. For some reason, the mental image of Troy jumping out of nowhere to push her over while she was crouched and vulnerable played across her mind. Probably not likely.

"Stay," she responded a little awkwardly before she turned and made her way to the opposite side Nick had chosen to take care of business.

Troy could see a series of emotions playing across her face and when she spoke, it was like an owner to a loyal pet. He supposed he could take offense but it was too early for that and somehow, without even a word, she'd made the thing twenty times more awkward than it should have been. He turned away from her, distancing himself from the hut slightly, back turned to the both of them, eyeing the dead in the distance almost praying they'd attack now just to wipe this sudden stench of weirdness off him.

Nick chuckled to himself as their short but colorful conversation reached him. He zipped up and strolled for the front yard, watching Troy hurrying toward the dead on the road.

"How you feeling?" Nick asked as soon as Alicia approached and he assessed her. She didn't seem all that rested, but he guessed he looked no better himself.

"I'm fine," she said, noting the bruises now decorating his face, making her wince. "You look like shit."

She was sure, in truth, they all did. No one really looked all that good these days. Too much stress and horror, not enough rest and happiness.

"How's your ribs?" He hadn't complained about them yesterday, but seeing as they had both received similar treatments, she assumed his was aching, as well.

Nick narrowed his eyes a little at the question, wondering whether they were truly seeing through all his efforts of acting fine or she had her own problems with that.

"Not coughing up blood or anything, so it must be a good sign," he said, adding a smile to indicate a joke. "Don't worry about me, I must've filled my dying quota for at least another week."

That wasn't gonna happen. The not worrying part. But she wasn't going to baby him, either. She hadn't quite reached Mom-status yet. "Let's hope so."

He returned to the house to roll up her blanket and get the bag so they could start back to see if the car was still where they had left it.

She followed him inside, a little reluctant due to the heat, and reclaimed her water bottle to have a few sips. The water was warm but they couldn't afford to be picky.

Strange to think this time yesterday, she had just finished up breakfast with Diana. Alicia hoped she was okay. That Eddie and the proctor boys hadn't taken advantage of her vulnerable state.

"Strange how so many crazy things can happen in one day," she murmured in thought, screwing the cap back on her bottle. "I can't remember the last time I felt bored."

Nick looked at her over his shoulder, stuffing the blanket into the bag. "Anyone would take bored over petrified or trying to not die after getting into another pickle," he said, and held on to the wall as he straightened up, hiding the wince from Alicia's eyes. "Boredom is truly a rare gem these days. You miss it?"

She shrugged, moving to stow her bottle in the bag he was holding. "There are things I miss more. Like sleeping without my boots on. Even on the ranch, I rarely took them off. Just in case, you know?"

He doubted she kept them on while sleeping at Jake's, which wasn't all that rare, but he didn't remind her.

"I do. It seems like a non-issue, but having no place to feel that safe is what truly sucks."

He led the way outside, seeking Troy out with his eyes as he took the bottle for a sip or two. It was finished, and Nick pushed it back into the bag in case they needed it later to refill.

"You never got to that cabin, did you?"

Alicia followed his gaze further down the street to see the youngest Otto dispose of a few infected.

"No," she admitted, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "I probably would have made it there by last night if I hadn't chosen to give this girl I met a ride to the trading post."

"A girl," he repeated, and regarded her. "And then what happened?"

"On the way there a car rammed into ours. Some assholes trying to loot us, I suppose." Or worse. They hadn't truly had time to make their intentions clear. "The girl, Diana, her name's Diana, her leg broke in the collision. It was really bad, so when we finally made it to the trading post we had to seek medical help. We found this doctor named Eddie who managed to set her leg and make her a cast. While he worked, we got to talking and I mentioned I had volunteered at the hospital before the world went to shit. He asked me if I would be willing to assist him with a surgery. I was reluctant, but he did help me after all, and I wanted to repay the favor.

"The 'patient' turned out to be a man named Proctor John."

She paused to give Nick a significant look, highlighting the irony that had reunited them.

He mulled it over, and found a slight relief in her association with John being truly that of a nurse that he somehow dragged away with him.

Was it all? Just a surgery and a whim to take a detour?

"He didn't let you go after that, I assume?"

"I didn't follow him out of the kindness of my heart." She shot her brother a small smile. "When we met he was in a wheelchair. He had a tumor pressing on his spine and it was paralyzing him. Eddie was tasked with removing it. John refused anesthesia of any kind, so my job was to keep him from moving while Eddie cut him open. If the operation failed, they would kill Eddie and me both.

"But it was a success. And no, he didn't let me go. He brought me… I guess to change his bandages, since that's what I ended up doing while his men rounded up the rest of the workers. He saw that I recognized Strand and informed me of the deal that had been made to save Mom, the two of us. I didn't know you were there until they hauled you all into the office." She shrugged. "Anyway, John informed me that the deal with Strand was off because he didn't uphold his end of it. So, I made a deal of my own. John ensured me Mom would be spared if I went with him to Texas. He's planning to set up a trading route between here and there. I took the deal."

Remembering the condescending manner and the ease as John ordered them all dead made Nick sick to his stomach. He felt sorry he didn't make sure John went down with the dam. But then again, there was that boat holding his family – Nick's own damn deal that went south.

"I guess I ruined your trip to Texas with kind Uncle John," he murmured, and forced a smile for her sake. "We'll have to be careful from here to Texas, then. Barely that was any close to a big number of his people who died on the dam. If he survived, he's gonna be a permanent problem until he forgets about us. Which might never happen."

She couldn't help but laugh, and she was happy to find some humor among all the misery. "I forgive you. I don't think I would have liked Texas very much. I stood out like a sore thumb with all those bikers. I don't even own anything leather.

"And you're right. He founded the motorcycle club before the outbreak and now has chapters serving under him all along the Mexican-American border. They're setting up trading posts from the Pacific Coast to the Mexican Gulf. Which means it's likely we might run into them again."

A potential meeting she very much dreaded.

"Thankfully, most of those who saw our faces are dead now, so it leaves just John and one or two of his men that got out. He's not the kind of boss who goes everywhere himself, so we might be fine until we run into him directly."

Nick shrugged, eyeing her.

"We only need to find mom and warn her to get out of his possible way, and then we lay low and maybe move to a state with no proctors. We'll see how it goes. Just need to find her first."

It was nice that he already included her in his future plans. Despite his earlier offer, she hadn't been entirely certain he wanted to. She assumed she'd be a drag on his time with Troy, like when they were kids and Alicia would follow him everywhere he went. It was never cool to have your little sister in tow while you were trying to fit in with the older boys in the neighborhood. But perhaps it wasn't like that anymore.

Nick thought back to how they got to the ranch. It seemed like forever ago.

"That time on the Villa when I went to search for Travis for her," he murmured, watching Troy take a swing at another walker. "I did find him. He found Chris and chose to stay with him. Asked me to tell her I didn't find him… and so I did. He said his son needed him. I think he was scared to bring him back to be with us. I wonder if it woulda turned out better if he did come back with me."

Her brow furrowed slightly in thought, and the memories Nick's words brought to mind. "I don't think it would have mattered. You still wouldn't have come with us after what Mom did, right?"

He scowled in confusion, skimming through the events of that night. He remembered seeing the fire and immediately assuming it had to do with mom, but then they said differently.

He stared at his sister, perplexed. "Daniel started the fire."

It was only back at the hotel when Alicia truly understood Nick's reasons for leaving them. Leaving her. But the way he looked at her now had her doubting everything again. "Yes, Daniel started the fire," she parroted. "But Mom–"

When Troy returned, the two appeared to be having another heavy-duty conversation, one he assumed was probably too early for the morning and was following the two around like a plague. Near-death experiences allowed you to get a lot of shit off your chest.

"Everyone okay? Ready to go?" he interjected cheerfully.

Troy's arrival made Alicia fall silent. She looked between the two, uncertain if it was wise to potentially reveal something awful Mom had done now that they were about to go look for her.

"Yeah," Alicia said, taking the bag from Nick and hauling it onto her shoulder. "Let's go."

Nick saw Troy, heard him say something along the lines of We should get going, but he couldn't tear his eyes off Alicia. She pulled the bag off his shoulder and he didn't move, his mind spinning around her insinuations he couldn't understand.

After what mom did… But mom… But mom… Mom…

"Alicia," Nick uttered, feeling like something inside his aching chest was being slowly wrenched out by a horrid hunch. "What happened at the Villa?"

Alicia paused in her tracks, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue before she turned her gaze back to her brother. "I overheard Mom telling Travis…" she began, hesitation clinging to every word, "that she locked Celia in the cellar with all the infected."

His eyes narrowed; Nick couldn't comprehend what she had just said. He stood staring at her dumbly, trying to wrap his mind around the words and get to the meaning. It didn't sound right. It couldn't be right. It couldn't be at all.

"Why?" he heard himself ask. It was like being in a nightmare and out of control. His own voice was alien and hollow, he didn't feel his mouth move. A brief recollection of some Bible snippet swept through his mind: about Lot's wife who disobeyed God and looked back over her shoulder at Sodom as it burned, and turned into a pillar of salt.

Nick physically felt himself becoming that pillar, while inside of him, there was a storm of pain.

Nick hadn't known, Alicia realized. He hadn't known how badly Mom had betrayed him, and it killed her that she had to be the one to tell him. It pissed her off. Why did she have to be the one to break Nick's heart when it was not her doing?

She swallowed, shifting the bag on her shoulder in an attempt to get more comfortable as she closed the space between them.

"She said it was to protect you," Alicia confessed, looking up at him with a grim knowing. "But we both know the real reason. She felt threatened."

That was the final, hard blow with a ragged, rusty blade into the heart. She stabbed it in and twisted, slowly, until there was nothing left to beat.

A lump in his throat blocked the air, like a rotting tumor, and spilled more pain down into his chest. Nick staggered back a step, then two from Alicia, no longer seeing her or anything else around. He could no longer think, his brain was stuck on the same phrase, repeating it over and over like in a world gone mad.

To protect you… to protect you… to protect you…

His mother's face flashed in his head, her hammer pointing at Troy, but her eyes boring into him to convince, to bend, to break and make him see her way that was the only right in the world.

'All I ever did was to protect you. You can't judge me! You can't judge a mother for protecting her children. I had no choice!'

Nick sucked in a short, painful breath, wheezing, then another, feeling dizzy and almost dying. He closed his eyes to try and grasp at reality, at what he had to do now, where he had to go, but all he could see was the Villa engulfed in flames.

He backed away, as if he could no longer stand her presence, and though it hurt, Alicia couldn't blame him for it.

"I thought you knew. I thought that's why you left…" she murmured, though she was not sure Nick heard her. He looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack, struggling for breath, to remain on his feet.

She dropped the bag to the ground between her and Troy and took a few steps forward, hands hovering at Nick's side to support his weight in case he lost balance.

"Nick, I'm so sorry."

It was desperately hard to breathe and his heart was thrashing in his ears. Nick could barely hear anything, although he was aware of Alicia's voice somewhere near. He just couldn't respond. He no longer believed he could make a sound, and he couldn't let her touch him because then he would crumble to the ground and never get up.

He shook his head, forcing himself to open his eyes. The light gave a bright flash, and then the terrain started to seep through. He sucked in another shallow breath of pain and started walking in the direction the car should be if it was still there.

There was still a raging fire blaring inside his skull. I might be going mad, he thought briefly. This was it. He was going mad, and it wasn't some weird, impossible things happening around him like back in LA.

It was reality, the truth of it, the darkest, deepest, most horrific truth that was driving him insane. It was real, what she did. A fact. Like that pillar of salt standing in the Israel desert somewhere, reminding everyone how dangerous it is to find out the truth about things you keep wondering about.

Alicia started ahead but before Troy could join her or nudge Nick along, they appeared to fall into their unfinished business, pushing him into the shadows temporarily to absorb everything as he always did.

Madison killed someone else?

Someone else important enough to Nick to make him look as though he lost a loved one?

So much for noble and doing what she had to to protect her family. He guessed that was why, unlike them, he admired certain aspects of her personality and thought she understood him, why he had constantly believed that she did. Troy wondered if she'd ever been honest, if anything she'd said to him, anything she'd supported was actually true or if she was only aiming for her own means. He knew it was the latter, he'd seen and experienced the evidence, but part of him at least trusted — from what he knew and had observed of humanity — that it was more than that. That they were two very similar beasts.

Troy reached down and picked up the bag Alicia had dropped in attempt to console her brother, and steadily fell into line behind them.

Alicia didn't feel particularly guilty about allowing Troy to carry the bag along with his collection of weapons. If he wanted to play the beast of burden, she'd let him. But she was worried about her brother. Even as they trekked across the dusty field back to the car, he looked as though she had just slapped the life out of him. She gave him some space, walking in silence until Troy pointed out the outline of the Jeep and trotted towards it enthusiastically. Where did he get all that energy from?

"And it's still there," he chimed conversationally, satisfied that another thing appeared to be going right this morning and that it was a positive sign to what he assumed was going to be a hell of a long day.

He dumped the bag he was carrying into the backseat, checking the tires, water and fuel respectfully to make sure some bandito high on life didn't find it in the middle of the night and tamper with it.

"Nick?" Alicia caught up with her brother once they were alone again, eyeing him carefully. "Are you okay?"

For a long time, Nick was just a machine that moved forward, squealing its rusty joints and gears. It took forever until the storm around his head started to exhaust itself, and he saw a dead desert it left behind.

In his former life, he had read about Tarot cards. The book was old and used, it belonged to Gloria's grandmother. Gloria thought it was funny, but Nick somehow didn't share the idea. There were pictures of different versions, and some engraved themselves into his intoxicated memory.

The image of The Tower engulfed in flames frightened him back then. He had stared at it for an hour, unable to perceive how it could have scared him so. People were falling down, throwing themselves out of its windows, their mouths gaping in mute screams.

Only Nick had heard those screams. He saw the flames leap and devour the tower like some Biblical apocalypse.

And then, there was The Star. Representing hope after everything old had been destroyed. It shone down at the waste and ruins of the Tower, some peace after the storm.

Gloria would have appreciated the cosmic irony of his mental connections.

In his story, however, there was no Star. No hope.

Just the ruins.

Alicia's cautious voice pulled him from the murky waters of his inner workings. He saw the car, Troy's back as he headed for it like an impatient lover on a long-awaited date, and he saw Alicia's face, worried, wounded.

She didn't deserve his pulling away. But she didn't deserve placating or lying, either. No more.

Nick shook his head subtly once, stopping to wait for Troy to start his jeep.

"No," he mustered in a quiet, husky voice.

Alicia nodded in understanding. She hadn't expected him to be okay, but it was one of those questions you'd ask anyway. Because it was an opener, a way in.

"What can I do?"

In the distance, Troy had busied himself with the Jeep, checking it over, loading their stuff in the back.

Troy checked the fuel gauge as he turned on the ignition. If they could have stopped to refuel before heading to the dam the day before, he would have more, but there wasn't time.

A stupid mistake in an apocalypse.

Like many he'd made over the course of the last few months and since meeting Madison.

Everything else was fine and would get them through the day sufficiently. He climbed into the driver's seat, turning off the ignition while he waited, giving them time to finish their talk and to join him.

She swallowed, studying Nick. "You still want to find her, right?"

He read distress on her face. She didn't know what to do, and it hurt him to be the reason, but he couldn't help any of it just yet. He needed time to start feeling again. He could only hope he would, because for now, he felt lost somewhere in a thick veil of mist; everything was grey and lifeless.

"We will," he nodded and went to the passenger's seat.

Alicia didn't know how to comfort him, and reckoned there wasn't actually much she could do to help the situation at current. He needed to process, like she needed to process what Nick had told her about Troy. And she would. Once they found Mom, and Alicia knew she was safe.

"Back to the dam?" Troy asked.

"Yeah," Alicia replied as she climbed in the back, closing the door on her side and resting heavily in her seat. It was going to be another long, long day.

People were still collecting water. Nick wondered if they had slept at all.

The dam's ruins reminded him of The Star card. He had been pushing all the Villa thoughts away during the drive, but hadn't been very successful. He kept seeing Celia's reserved, wise smile as she sipped wine while talking to him. He saw her eyes, the way they glistened when she saw her risen son walking next to Nick.

Nick couldn't believe it, and yet, he could. And that was the grimmest, scariest thought of all. Deep down, he believed. He knew why. It was all written in his mother's eyes.

They searched the same streets, asked around, widened their search, but found out nothing useful. A few people gave them false leads that brought them nowhere near their mother or Strand. However, one of the elder Mexicans waved a hand further down the stream and told Alicia he had seen a tall black man walking that way. He didn't talk to that man but heard him speak Spanish.

It sounded like Strand. They needed to drive further along the river shore.

It took them four hours, a lot of clueless people, a brief snack break and a short trade for half a bottle of some Mexican moonshine in exchange of one of Troy's pistols. He was far from happy, but they finally cleaned Alicia's scratch with alcohol and renewed the band-aids.

And then, they spotted a familiar back with blond hair. Strand stood by her translating, his hands flying up and down to help the descriptions.

Neither saw them. Alicia's hand had Nick's forearm in a vice grip. She was breathing rapidly, endless relief all over her face.

Thankfully finding Madison wasn't as hard as Troy had anticipated, and she wasn't dead. Not because he cared about the latter but because he suspected the news of her passing now would further break Nick. There was a lot of unresolved issues between the two and a lack of closure – well, that could destroy a person.

He remained seated in the jeep, sipping at a bottle of water, eating of the last protein bars they had left, patiently waiting for the scene to play out and the siblings to take the next step or whatever they had planned.

Nick didn't know what he felt. There might be some relief, too. He still didn't want her to die. He would never want it. That hadn't changed. He didn't want to go with her. That hadn't changed, either.

But she needed to be warned about the proctors. That hadn't changed.

Alicia's initial reaction was relief – a warm sensation that temporarily brushed all the aches and pains away, making her feel light on her feet and almost dizzy with euphoria.

But soon after, came the uncertainty and doubt. She knew the moment they let her see them, she would run to them, wrap them in her embrace, and tell them how worried their absence had made her. And then, she would tell them the new plan of action, possibly to get in the car if she and Strand had already found a vehicle, and that would be it. Back to the same old Madison-run show.

Alicia didn't want that.

And what was worse: she didn't know if she would be able to fight Mom's hold on her. If she would be able to break free from Mom a second time.

"I'm coming with you," Alicia told Nick, finally releasing her hold on his arm. "If the invitation is still valid, I wanna go with you."

Nick tore his eyes from mom and Strand to look at Alicia when her hand slipped off his. His lips twitched in a faint and failed attempt at a smile; he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin affectionately.

"We should do this first," he said quietly, and started toward them, leaving Alicia to decide if she wanted to come or stay behind.

He had to do this, either way. He braced himself as he went.

Alicia almost reached out to pull Nick back, but didn't. Instead, she took a deep breath and followed. She couldn't let him do this alone.

Strand caught sight of them first, and as expected, when he pointed them out to Madison, she came running, almost knocking over a little old lady carrying a too heavy container of water. She flung her arms around Nick, hugging him to her, and pulled Alicia in, as well, once she was within her reach. Alicia hugged her back.

"Oh my God," Madison breathed, and Alicia could tell she was on the verge of tears. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Once they pulled away from one another, Alicia could see that Madison, too, had received her fair share of bruises. The same went for Strand, though his were harder to immediately spot due to his dark skin. It was a miracle really that they had all survived.

"We're fine," Alicia ensured her, though she wasn't certain that was the case at all.

Strand stood behind, smiling, seeming genuinely pleased to see the kids in one piece. Madison looked at them, from one to another, tears welling up in her eyes. Like she couldn't get enough of this happy moment, of relief and gratitude to whatever might have served the purpose of helping them survive.

"Are you sure you okay?" she asked, touching Alicia's bruised scratch with her fingers, wincing as if it pained her and not her younger child. "We were looking all over for you. When I got out of the water, it was too far down from the dam, and I only found Strand by nightfall."

"Asking around wasn't getting us too far," he added from where he stepped away to give Clarks a semblance of space.

"I'm so happy you're alive," Madison said, in almost a whimper, pulling her kids to her once again, planting a kiss to each their temple.

When she let go, Nick said: "You need to get out of here right now. Proctor John survived, along with one or two of his loyal guard dogs. If he was pissed before, now he must be enraged. He'd be looking for any of us. He's preparing to stretch his net along the coast up to Texas, so we better steer clear and keep our eyes peeled for any of his gang. I imagine he's a rather vengeful man."

"You imagine right," Strand said. He looked spooked. "Let's not waste our time, then."

"All right, let's go," Madison said, and made a step after Strand, but then frowned and stopped, seeing the siblings weren't moving. Her frown deepened at their solemn faces. "What is it? What's going on?"

"I'm not coming," Nick said. He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. "Troy's waiting in the car. We're going on our own."

Her face expressed a heartbreak, and then there was a ghost of the familiar disappointment beneath it. It reached out and cut Nick. And that he did feel.

She battled herself for a moment, then said: "He can go with us. Let's just go and discuss it late—"

Nick was smiling, and it stopped her. He imagined it should seem misplaced, and it was. There was no humor in it. "I told you back at the dam, Mom. I'm not gonna talk about it, or argue, or discuss anything. I just wanna go. Please. Don't try to convince me of anything or pour some more shit on him. It's not gonna cha—"

"You mean I shouldn't remind you who he is? WHAT he is?" Her face pinched with self-righteous indignation. "What you've chosen over your family? Over your mother, your sister? Your blood? He's a killer, Nick. He doesn't feel anything for you. He'll throw you under the bus the first chance he gets—"

"He's been pulling me from under all the busses all this time, mom," he countered, unwilling to raise his voice the way she did. Unwilling to play into it and make a scene when people carrying water from the river were already shooting glances their way. Strand was hovering nearby, scowling and darting ganders around to make sure no proctors were going to shoot him any moment.

"Yes, while it's convenient to him," she said, her eyes sharp like glass shards. "He's insane, Nick. He's not thinking straight whenever new rush of adrenaline shoots up in his head, and he's gonna get you killed or even do it himself while you sleep. Like he almost did to me when we were out scouting."

Nick narrowed his eyes, momentarily taken aback by the confession she had never shared before – conveniently so while she was trying to make a puppet out of Troy.

Nick heaved a sigh. "He had his chances. But all he did was stopped a knife from stabbing me in the chest with his hand, and then taking out proctors around me so they wouldn't kill me before I could press that button."

"It was Walker," she announced with bitter irony, her eyes saying 'How much more stupid can he make you'. "He stayed behind to cover for us."

"So did Troy," he said. "And it wasn't Walker who pulled me and Alicia from the water. It was Troy. And it's not about him, mom. I just wanna go my way now. I need it. I can see you don't understand, but maybe you can accept it someday. I just need to be away for now."

She sighed, vexed and frustrated. "We just found each other after something we shouldn't have survived, Nick. You can't just walk away from me. We're a family. You're my children. Please, Nick, we can't be separated. You'll be sorry if you go. I know it, trust me, I know. You will regret it, but it could be too late."

He smiled, took her face in his hands and planted a long, tender kiss on her forehead, then stepped back. "I love you, Mom. But I have to take my chances here. You should leave now. Be safe."

He cast a glance at Alicia, as if to say she could do her own farewells now. "I'll be at the car," he mouthed and started to walk away.

"If you think he loves you, Nick, he doesn't!" Madison sent after him. He heard despair in her voice. He felt it grasp at him as he went. "He never will. He'll betray you. Please, Nick."

He kept going, his eyes locked on the car where Troy sat. It was harder to breathe. But it was good to have it done.

Troy couldn't hear what they were saying from where he sat but if he was truly honest — despite his obsessive curiosity — he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

A fleeting thought that diminished and peaked when she shouted at Nick's back, making whatever parting words they'd had as clear as day.

Madison didn't like Troy and didn't trust him. He'd known that from the go, when she first met him and she'd had good reason for that mistrust back then – they all did – but after everything, after what he'd done for her, what she'd done for him and to him, they still hadn't hit an understanding?

When Nick was close, Troy reached over and pulled the handle on the passenger's door for him, offering him a protein bar once Clark climbed in, along with the last of their remaining water.

"Looks like that went well. You okay?"

Nick slumped in the seat with a wince and pulled his door closed. He was anything but hungry, but accepted the bar and water, nonetheless. He took a sip and screwed the cap back on.

"She said you'll never love me, but yeah, I'm okay."

He inspected the protein bar, then put it on the dashboard.

Troy furrowed his eyebrows, swallowing back an almost awkward laugh that wanted to bubble to the surface. If there was one thing he had come to realize in these last few days, it was that Madison didn't know him at all – not as he'd assumed or needed – and downplayed every thought or word that came out of his mouth. She knew exactly how he felt about her son, he'd told her as much the same day she tried to kill him.

"I do love you," he stated, straight-faced and serious, unsure of why he needed to make that truth known when the word itself and its sentiment were contrived. "I know it's a bit weird, and that maybe, with everything that's been happening and with what you know that you might think it's unbelievable. But uh… I do. You're a good friend. A brother."

Nick was expecting him to burst out laughing before he jibed back with some silly insinuation like he did before many times.

He wasn't prepared for what came out of Troy instead at all. It blew all the thoughts out of Nick's head leaving an utterly white blank page of nothing. He just stared at Otto, lost for any proper response.

He wasn't surprised much by this admission of seeing him as a friend and maybe even a brother to replace what Troy had lost. But Nick preferred it non-spoken, something neither needed to confess.

"She just… seemed to be getting some wry ideas concerning why I was leaving with you," he said slowly, feeling all kinds of awkward. "So she said that… You shoulda laughed. But since you rarely do what I expect from you, Otto, all that you said… I know. I don't need to hear it to know."

"As long as you know," Troy stated with the same tone of delivery. He didn't want Nick thinking that the fact that Troy was accepting his crazy was because of some weird need to stick it to his mother. What they had, their friendship, it meant something even if Troy wasn't always good at expressing that.

He should have let Jake know that, he'd tried at times, but something or someone always got in the way of that, and besides, it was complicated.

Also, what Troy did behind the scenes didn't always help matters.

"By the way, I didn't know you swung that way. I thought you were all about the ladies."

Nick rolled his eyes but was unable to hold back an amused chuckle, shaking his head. The fact that Nick laughed was enough to make Troy crack a smile.

"That was the punch line 'cause I don't swing that way," Nick said. "I really hope you don't, either, but I won't judge." He gave Troy a smirk, then replicated his sincere expression, raising his hands: "As long as you know."

Madison stared at Nick's retreating form for a long time, her eyes prickling with the promise of tears.

"Madison, we have to go," Strand called from behind her, backtracking a few steps in his urgency.

She heaved a sorrowful sigh and turned on her heel, slowly trekking behind him. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder when she realized Alicia wasn't following.

"Alicia?"

She shook her head. "I'm not coming either, Mom."

Madison stared at her in much the same manner she had Nick, disbelieving, wounded, and with rising frustration.

"Nothing's changed since the ranch," Alicia added.

Madison briefly closed her eyes, and Alicia could tell she was tempted to pinch the bridge of her nose as if she had an oncoming headache. A move she'd always pulled when Alicia was slow to put away her laundry or do the dishes after dinner. A move that in the past had the power to incite Alicia with guilt. Not so much this time.

"It is different," Madison insisted. "You don't have any rations this time, Alicia. No car, no weapons. You won't make it on your own."

"I got Nick," she shrugged, and watched as her mother's gaze darkened and turned to the Jeep behind them.

If looks could kill…

"You're going with Nick? With Troy?! You can't trust him, Alicia!" She was shouting again, making Strand grimace and crouch slightly where he had stopped, as if he worried her voice would attract bullets.

"I know," Alicia said. "I don't." But she didn't entirely trust Madison, anymore, either. And that was part of the problem.

"Then don't go with him!"

Madison caught the echo of her own voice and forcefully reeled herself in, closing the space between them to take her daughter's hands in hers. She softened, her tone imploring.

"Troy is not safe. You don't know all the things he's done."

"It's not about Troy," Alicia replied, her frustration rising as well. "It's about me. I told you, I don't want to live in fear anymore. I don't want to chase after something better, because I don't think it exists anymore. I know this new world is hard for you because it's unpredictable and chaotic, and so completely different from the life we had. It scares you. It scares me, too. But we want different things, Mom. We need different things to thrive. And I don't want to do things your way anymore. I can't."

Madison narrowed her eyes at Alicia, her voice soft and low, but Alicia could sense the anger there.

"I've had to make some very hard decisions, Alicia. To ensure our survival. And because I made those decisions, you've had the luxury of not having to. Don't fool yourself into thinking it will be easier on your own, that you can play this game with a clear conscience. It doesn't work like that. I've protected you."

Alicia almost laughed, but there was no humor there. Only sadness.

"It's not a game, Mom. And I understand that you've been trying to keep us safe, keep me safe. But all the lies, all the secrets, the game-playing… You're not protecting me. You're making me helpless."

They both fell silent. Alicia thought her words had taken her mother by surprise. Madison certainly looked it. They stared at each other for a long time, and Alicia quietly tried to make her understand, to accept her decision.

Madison sniffled a little, quickly wiped her nose with her sleeve, and turned to Strand. "Victor, the map."

He hesitated a moment before making the walk back to them, withdrawing a folded map from his back pocket. He handed it to Madison, and she opened it, searched for something.

"Here," she said, pointing to a marker on the map. "There's a gas station, about four hours from here. Two days from now at noon, Strand and I will be there."

Strand groaned quietly, close to rolling his eyes. Madison ignored him.

"We'll be there. If you change your mind–" Alicia could tell Mom believed she would. "Come meet us, okay?"

Alicia knew she wouldn't come. Neither would Nick. But she nodded anyway, made a note of the marker and the road. She doubted Madison would let her go without another fight otherwise.

"Okay."

Madison handed the map back to Strand and pulled Alicia into a hug so tight it hurt. She kissed the top of her youngest child's head as Alicia slid her arms back around her mother.

"I love you so much, baby," Madison whispered.

"I love you too, Mom."

They parted. Alicia offered a small smile and an awkward wave at Strand, squeezed Mom's hand one last time, then turned and walked away.

Nick unscrewed the cap and took another sip of water, shooting a brief glance at Madison and Alicia. They seemed to be doing take two of the talk he'd just had.

"I told Alicia about the horde," he confessed. "I had to. Only the horde – not Jake. You better not revisit that subject, especially with the arguments you used on mom in the tunnels."

"You mean you told her what I did?" Troy asked, feeling irked and sort of betrayed. "That I spent two days gathering and walking them? When'd you do that? This morning? Last night? I guess I should be grateful she hasn't tried to bash my head in yet."

"What I told her was that mom tried to kill you for the ranch and the horde," Nick explained. "She connected the rest herself because she's been suspecting it all along, like many others. I didn't go into any details. She dashed after you with scissors from the med kit, I talked her down. She's still grieving, but she knows you saved my life and you pulled her out of the water. She knows that you came to warn me about the horde. She knows you lost your world with that ranch, too. She just needs time to grieve. Just try not to remind her about those things. She endured a hell of a lot because of what you did. She won't kill you for it – she's not my mom – but she's allowed to be hurt. Okay?"

Troy measured his reasons for spilling a secret that they'd been burying — at Nick's insistence — since Troy'd first rocked up and Nick had chosen not to kill him. Troy had asked and pleaded as twisted weariness weighed him down from the loss of his brother, he'd been more than prepared to eat that bullet and accept his fate.

Nick had shoved him out of that weak state of mind and thrust him back into reality, back into the same state that had always controlled Troy and taken care of the really emotional shit.

And then, it was smooth sailing and excitement.

That's what this life was.

At least most the time.

Troy leaned back in his seat and peered past Nick at Alicia who was starting toward them. She looked equally as broken as her brother had been a couple of minutes ago.

"Okay," he answered finally, offering a slow nod of agreement and acceptance. He'd do what he could, but even he knew that promises could easily be broken in the heat of the moment. "Now that you've found your mother and said your goodbyes. Any idea where you want to go next? You two have been getting quite a bit off your chests, do you have plans?"

Alicia didn't dare look back, worried there might be tears if she had to witness the devastation on Mom's face for one second longer. She climbed back in the car, understanding by the sudden silence between the two up front that they had either been talking about her, or something she was not supposed to know. It didn't matter.

She pulled one leg up on the seat with her to get more comfortable, freed the knife from her boot and carefully twirled it between her fingers, trying to get a feel for it. Chances were she'd have to make use of it sooner or later.

"All done."

"We ride to California and as far from the dam as we can," Nick answered Troy's question. "Better stay away from the coastline, since they plan on building their net there or something. So, it's up North we go. That good enough for now?"

Troy started up the ignition and cast curious a glance at Alicia in the rear-view mirror as she made herself comfortable, briefly wondering if she was planning to thrust the dagger she was toying with into the back of his skull.

He now knew she had a reason, that she had the truth, and despite Nick's assurances, Troy also knew the female Clarks had a will of their own. From what he'd seen and knew of Alicia's, hers was as fiery as her mother's, although less self-righteous in its flare. The true heroine of this story.

He waited a beat and then put the jeep into first, a lazy smile playing onto his lips.

"Back toward the states? That's perfect."