by Max Lockwood
They managed to get Viola into bed, although it took some coaxing. She kept jumping at everything that moved, even shadows, and Clara felt another spark of guilt that she hadn't been there. It took some reassuring from the both of them to get Viola to lie down at all. But she was clearly wiped out because she fell asleep almost immediately.
Then she took Tessa to her own room. Her sister was acting a little strange, though. She didn’t look afraid, more dazed as if she was confused about something. Clara didn’t interrupt whatever she was thinking about, it must have been important if it had her this deep in concentration. When Tess finally came to, she almost stumbled; Clara jumped to catch her before she could fall, but she righted herself before Clara could touch her.
"My prediction must have been wrong," Tessa murmured, raising a hand and pressing the heel of her palm against her eye. Her voice sounded disbelieving like the words were unfamiliar on her tongue. "That shouldn’t be happening, though. I've never been wrong. I could have sworn… but I thought we were all going to die, and it didn’t happen."
Clara just listened to her sister mutter to herself, feeling worried but curious as to what she was talking about. When she got the gist of it, she couldn’t help feeling relief brought on by those words, and some hope. Tessa admitting that her visions and predictions weren’t super accurate was something new. Clara didn’t think she'd ever given in, even when Clara had proof that she was wrong, she would stick stubbornly to her opinion, because that was just who she was. The ordeal must have really shaken her up, for her to give up this easily.
But maybe… it could be just what they needed. Maybe, she could use this as an excuse to persuade Tessa again. She needed to face reality at some point, and she needed to be free of her predictive nightmares. Maybe, now that she had admitted she was wrong once, she would be more open to a second opinion. Clara could only hope. And besides, in spite of how she was acting, Clara refused to believe she hadn't been affected at all by what happened and all the noise when all she could do was hide and think of the worst. Clara would have been the same if she'd been put in that position.
Tessa didn’t say anything more, just standing there with a hand covering one eye, her form trembling a little. The worry was back again in full force as she stepped carefully closer to her sister. Tessa jumped slightly, before allowing Clara to lead her to the bed and pushing her to sit down.
"Are you all right?"
Her sister didn’t even seem to hear her, was just staring off into space. Or rather, staring out the window. Her window faced the front of the house, and when Clara looked that way, she realized the light from the fire outside was highly visible. If Tessa got close enough, she would see the burning remains of the enemy's car.
"Would you like to take anything before you go to bed?" she offered, keeping her voice soft, hoping to divert Tessa's attention from the window. "Besides your medicine, I mean."
She saw the rebellious look on her sister's face and sighed. She sat down next to her and rubbed soothing circles on her back. She might not have been feeling particularly tired, but she was not in the mood to deal with her sister in one of her tantrums.
"Look. You're tired, Tessa. And I know you don’t like your medicine, but do you want to wake up with another nightmare again tonight?"
A shudder went through her body, probably remembering last night, but then she was shaking her head rapidly. It was the one thing Tessa wanted to escape, as far as Clara knew, and it was why they had the pills in the first place.
"But I can't! I already told you, Clara, I don’t like those medicines because of what they do to me! My visions…"
"But you just said you were wrong about the last one. Don’t you think it could have just been a nightmare and nothing more?" she prompted.
Tessa didn’t have an immediate comeback, and Clara took it to mean that she was wavering.
"Listen, Tessa, your visions aren’t real, and you do not come up with predictions of the future. If you go to sleep without your medication, what you will have is another nightmare. Do you want that?"
No. With the way she hesitated, it was easy to deduce that she didn’t. With a little more coaxing, Clara managed to get her to take her tablets, and she settled them both in to sleep.
She went downstairs and glanced outside her window. The curtains were left drawn to let in a little moonlight and what was left of the fire from the car explosion that was still burning, and so she could see what was going on in the street. There were still plenty of people moving around, but the noise was kept to a minimum as she watched. She still wanted to go back out there and lend a hand, because she didn’t think she could sleep, even though there was nothing more she could do now.
"Do you have anything to drink in the house?"
Cooper's voice from behind had her turning around. She could barely see his features through the little light that was available, besides, he was standing all the way across the kitchen near the door. She couldn’t see or hear anyone else down here, and she could only hope Dante had gone home to be with his wife and kids.
Cooper's question confused her, though. "Isn't there plenty to drink in the kitchen?" she asked, pointing the way behind him, directing him to their water supply.
But he was shaking his head. "Not that, I want something strong."
It took her a minute to understand his meaning. She didn’t make a habit of keeping alcohol in her house. It would be bad if Tessa got a hold of it because it usually just made her worse than she already was. Besides, their grandmother didn’t approve.
That wasn’t to say that there wasn’t any. For the times that she couldn’t wait to meet Dante, and didn’t feel like dealing with her family or contacting Cooper, she had something that would tide her over. She was always busy, though, so she never drank much when she was at home, since the only time she ever drank out was with the knowledge that she could take it easy the next day.
"I have some whiskey somewhere," she admitted, her own personal stash, and she went to fish it out.
She was back in the living room moments later. They moved to the seats, Cooper having come with a couple of glasses for them.
When Clara poured them both a drink, Cooper drained his right away, as she watched, still holding her own halfway to her mouth. Clara realized he was shaking. He slammed the glass back down, and she hesitated to pour him more, but he took the bottle before she could pull it away.
"Are you okay?" she asked cautiously as he poured another drink.
He downed it before he answered her. "I just need something to settle my nerves after the fight."
She watched as he poured another drink. She wanted to tell him he was taking a little too much, and she wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. She drank her own in slow sips, feeling the soothing burn down her throat. She didn’t need it, but she still sighed as her body relaxed into the seat.
"I can't believe how calm you are after killing ten people."
Clara arched her eyebrows. "We had to do it," she argued back. Because if they hadn't, those people would have taken from her family and several others in the neighborhood. And if any of them had been left alive, Clara would have had a problem with whoever was left possibly spilling that her family had a shed full of food, even if they'd taken quite a significant amount of that food.
"I believe there could have been another way to deal with it," Cooper said firmly. "You're barely affected by it."
Clara winced at the comment. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, how could it be? True, she wasn’t freaking out quite like he was, but when she gave herself time to think about it, she might. Although, she looked down at her shirt, realizing she had forgotten she was still covered in blood. The thought didn’t affect her at all.
Then she shook her head. So, what? Wasn’t it better for her mind, that this wasn’t giving her so much stress? She didn’t want to be breaking down in her room, so calm was the best thing for her right then, wasn’t it? She believed so, anyway.
"
I believe that I did something good to protect my family and my community," she said honestly. And if she could be spared from feelings that would only put her down, why complain?
Cooper just stared at her. From where they sat, she couldn’t see him all that well, but he was still and silent, and she could practically feel the weight of his gaze. Then he rose.
"I barely recognize you," Cooper muttered, almost to himself, and stormed further into the house, leaving her alone.
Chapter Seven
Clara returned to her community service at the hospital.
Things were stable enough at home that she felt she could go in. Besides, after the fight, she didn’t want to risk the police looking into her case and realizing she hadn't been doing the work she was assigned. She'd taken the day after off to rest and reassure her family, but she'd already had too many days off. If the officer that looked into her case asked anyone besides Felicia, she would be in trouble.
Her neighborhood was returning to the quiet place it used to be before the intruders. If not for the wreckage still in the street, it would have been so easy to think what happened had been a dream, because that was what it felt in comparison to all the quiet. Things went pretty much back to how they were before, with everyone staying in their own homes and rarely coming out. Aside from seeing a police officer or two the past couple of days, it was almost normal.
Clara wasn’t sure if she appreciated that or not because she certainly wasn’t feeling normal. With everything gone, the excitement died down, she had cooled somewhat. Still, something Cooper said bothered her, but every time she tried to put it out of her mind, it would only come back to distract her.
So, part of finally going back to work was a way to escape things she didn’t want to think about. What the hell had Cooper meant about not recognizing her? She had gotten a little stronger in her resolve, but Clara hadn't really changed all that much, with all her old habits rearing their heads. She hadn't had a chance to properly talk to him, though, and she feared he was avoiding her.
She still thought about what he'd said. She'd tried to determine what had gone differently for her with the people that had been in the fight with her. She talked to four of them before she realized. Everyone was in some form of shock and had been more than ready to go home and put the whole ordeal behind them. But Clara, she had wanted to stay longer, to offer help where she could.
The biggest difference, though, was that unlike everyone else who went back home exhausted and weary, Clara had been perfectly fine. There had been no release of stress after it was all over as if it hadn't bothered her. There was no exhaustion induced by the release of tension created by the lead-up to the fight, as well as the fight and its aftermath. It could have just been caused by the adrenaline, but she hadn't felt all that anxious. She didn’t feel like going to sleep, though she did eventually because there wasn’t anything to do and she didn’t want to sit in the dark by herself. It was like… none of it bothered her at all.
That wasn’t entirely correct, though. Yes, she might have been a little calmer than most people would be in that situation, but it wasn’t like it didn’t bother her at all. She'd simply made up her mind what she wanted the outcome of the battle to be before it started. She would have rather not gone through it all, to begin with, but she hadn't been the one that started it, she just wanted to be the one to end it. She got her wish, so of course, she was a little happy that she didn’t have to worry about another attack on her home.
But besides Cooper, there was her family to think of.
Viola… it was hard to tell when she was doing well. Clara had her pride, and her grandmother had hers, too. She had insisted on not being coddled, every time she was asked how she was feeling, she would reply that she was all right. The thing was, she was very good at acting. Clara and the rest of them, they might have fallen for it. But Clara had seen the tightening at the edge of her eyes when she was asked and how quick she was to change the subject.
She didn’t know if the other two had realized, but Viola was still very much scarred from the incident. Well, it was to be expected. it still bothered Cooper, Clara could tell, and it would take time to heal this kind of problem. Clara could do nothing more than be there for her grandmother when she needed her for something.
Tessa was doing okay, as far as Clara had seen. It was a big surprise to her, actually. Tessa was undoubtedly the most mentally unstable of them all, yet she had been utterly calm the past few days, and the few times Clara talked to her, she almost didn’t recognize her sister, because she was acting so normal. It might not last long, but Clara would enjoy it while it lasted.
Plenty of times, though, Clara would find her dazed and spaced out. She pretty much had to guess what Tessa was thinking about since she didn’t want to destroy her progress by asking her. Clara was almost sure she was right, though. That Tessa's foundation for the past decade had been shaken and she was trying to sort things out for herself.
Clara could only hope her sister's self-reflection ended well. A new way of thinking and her prescription for her nightmares might turn her mind around so she could face reality. There was still her reaction to the medication, but Clara didn’t think it was too severe to warrant much mention. She had stopped complaining about the effect, anyway, and Clara was a lot more cautious now about making sure she ate. It was the only reason she stayed home anyway, so there was no reason to sit idle anymore.
The real reason, though, was because she just had to keep moving, and it wasn’t as satisfying doing it at home. There was plenty of work to be had other than looking after her family. Besides, when she woke up, Viola was feeling well, and she was anxious enough that Clara thought looking after Tessa would give her some peace of mind.
At the hospital, she treated the injured from the previous night. She didn’t know them personally, but she was sure Michelle had been the one to talk them into helping. She thanked each of them personally for their help, though they just waved it off.
They weren’t all that badly injured, she realized, gratefully. She would have felt quite guilty if she'd found out someone had gotten so badly hurt when it had been her idea to fight back. They were very lucky that the casualties on their side had been so minimal.
It had been the best decision, though, despite what Cooper had told her after their home was invaded. Even when he'd been trying to tell her they should do nothing. He should have known she couldn’t have stood for that.
Clara thought about Cooper's comments after the fight when she left the patients and looked to see if anyone else needed help and was still unassisted. About how she'd been too calm after people got killed.
What she still didn’t get was why did she have to care? Yes, people died, but all the ones that did were the bad guys. They were the ones that came out of nowhere, thinking it was right to steal from other people and to do it with force. They were armed, and Clara didn’t doubt that if she and her family hadn't behaved, they might have shot at them without remorse.
So, why should she have remorse for people that would kill others to get what they wanted? They had been willing to kill and had shown it clearly on that second night. They sent out the first threat before Michelle took the first shot. Every single one of them had guns and didn’t hesitate to show them. If they'd had any conscience, they wouldn’t have come out threatening with weapons in hand. If they'd wanted to live, they would have chosen the smart options.
They didn’t.
So, there was no reason Clara should feel bad. If they had killed someone she'd managed to talk into her plan, maybe, but that didn’t happen.
But… was it right?
That she felt no remorse, that she even felt justified. Hell, she had been ready to attack them, gun-wielding psychos, with nothing but a knife in her hand. She didn’t believe she was wrong in this, but what if she was? Clara wondered if she'd become too cold-hearted. But what had being soft done for her? Besides get her and her family hurt. If she'd been as she was now bac
k then, a lot of her misfortunes could have been avoided.
She realized that their old lives, as teachers and ordinary people seemed so long ago, despite it only being a few weeks, since the electricity shut down.
But then, in those few weeks, way too much had happened. She had seen way too much death and destruction. Seen degradation in other towns that she feared would happen in her town. She had faced death several times. The recent attack was the one time she came out of it not feeling like she would fall apart afterward, and why shouldn’t she be glad of that? She hated giving into any weakness, and that dislike had only grown with recent events. This time, she didn’t need a breather after doing something that she needed to do for the good of her family.
She couldn’t conceive of ever going back to her old life, even were it still possible. And she was starting to believe it wouldn’t.
Not to mention, it would be more dangerous if she was her old self. She'd faced many dangerous situations outside, but she'd faced just as many, if not worse, at home. She couldn’t afford someone coming after her family while she was hesitating. More than just losing their supplies, the respect in their neighbors' and the whole town's eyes, they could just as easily die, and Clara had every intention of holding that back for as long as she could.
She wondered if everywhere fell apart as easily as her hometown.
"How are you holding up after all the excitement?"
Clara arched her eyebrows at Felicia's comment. Particularly, calling the shootout that happened in front of her house as “all the excitement.” It was certainly one way to look at it, a very apt way, but it had also been bloody.
And how was she holding up? Well, Clara was doing just fine, actually. But looking at Felicia's face, her expression, Clara could tell that wouldn't be enough for her.
