Fighting Rough

26

John and Cynthia had left the camp twenty minutes ago. Cynthia was exhausted from the night before, and annoyed that no one else was complaining about it much.

John had been acting strangely since they’d left. Cynthia could almost felt his anger. And she knew it wasn’t about the battle last night. And it wasn’t about fearing for their lives. It was something that wasn’t quite about survival.

“I don’t see how we can just go, go, go,” said Cynthia. “Don’t you realize that people need to rest?”

“We’re looking for two missing members of our group,” snapped John. “Don’t you think that’s a little more important than you getting your beauty sleep?”

“Beauty sleep? When’s the last time we slept at all? Who said anything about looking good?”

“Sorry,” said John. “I know you’re tired. So am I.”

“And I know we need to look for Jake and Rose,” said Cynthia. “It’s just you’re not making this easy. What’s going on with you, anyway?”

“It’s nothing,” said John.

“It’s your brother, isn’t it?”

John didn’t answer.

“Come on, John. Why don’t you talk to me about it?”

John muttered something unintelligible.

“Yeah, I know. Men don’t like to talk about their feelings.” Cynthia add her classic sarcastic bite to her words. That usually got John to talk, even when he was being too quiet for her liking.

“It’s not that,” said John. “It’s just there’s no point in talking about it.”

“What? Talking doesn’t fix anything? Sounds like a typical male answer.”

“No,” said John. “Like I said, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Max is right. There are more important things at stake right now than how I feel about… certain things.”

“You mean your brother?”

John didn’t answer.

“I know you’re disappointed,” said Cynthia.

“What? How?”

“Women’s intuition.”

“Mandy told you?”

“Maybe,” said Cynthia, not wanting to fully reveal her sources. “Look, what you’re feeling is normal.”

“How so? What do you know about it?”

“There’s no reason to get upset with me,” snapped Cynthia.

“I’m not,” said John.

But it was clear that he was.

“You were hoping Max would be something like our savior. I mean, you and I talked about it enough. You can’t pretend that isn’t the case.”

“OK,” snapped John. “So what if it was?”

Cynthia glanced at John. She’d rarely seen him like this, so upset and angry. She’d touched a nerve. Together, they’d been through countless trials, many near-death situations. There’d been many times where they’d thought they’d never make it out alive. And yet, she’d never seen this anger in him before. Not like this. It was different. More personal.

Cynthia had the instinct to back off of the topic, to let sleeping dogs lie. But, for some reason, she continued. “I just don’t get what you’re upset about. Max is great. I mean, without him, we’d definitely be dead.”

“Oh, is that so?” said John. “Well you don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t have any idea.”

He spoke to her in angry, aggressive tones, and his eyes glared at her.

Cynthia shivered, recoiling from the expression his face.

“What’s gotten into you?” she said.

“Nothing. Nothing’s gotten into me. I’m fine.”

But he was visibly angry. His body was quivering, almost shaking with anger.

“If this is all about Max, then I think the best thing to do is…”

“Just shut up, would you?” snapped John.

It had come on all of a sudden, this mood, and it surprised Cynthia. She’d thought she’d known John. She’d thought what they’d been through together had let her know him as well as anyone could. But there were always dark parts of a person, things that rarely revealed themselves. And when they did, they were shocking.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” said Cynthia. “Why don’t you take a couple deep breaths. You need to calm down.”

“I don’t need to do anything!” shouted John, screaming right in her face.

“What the hell?” said Cynthia. “Don’t scream at me, damnit.”

“Why don’t you just head back to camp?” said John, his eyes burning with anger. “I can do this on my own. I don’t need you, or anyone else. I don’t need Max.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I guess I touched some nerve about your childhood… I thought…”

“You’ve said all you need to. I’m doing this alone.”

John picked up his pace, nearly breaking into a run.

Cynthia tried to keep up, but his legs were longer than hers. And she was already having trouble walking through the snow.

“John, wait up!”

John didn’t look back. He was already many paces ahead of her.

“We’re supposed to go together! There are dangerous people out here!”

“There’s no one out here,” shouted John, without turning around.

It was the last thing he said to her.

She couldn’t keep up. Her legs were already burning, trying to run through the snow. The rifle felt heavy in her hands, impossibly heavy.

It wasn’t just the physical sensation that slowed her down. It was the knowledge that since she’d known John, he’d never once abandoned her. It wasn’t like him to leave her on her own out in the woods, out in the dangerous wilds, where anyone could come along at any moment.

She was all alone. John had disappeared into the trees.

“Shit,” muttered Cynthia, sitting down in the snow.

It had all happened so fast. She felt hurt and betrayed. John had never run off like that before, leaving her there on her own. Not if he could help it. No, before he’d done everything in his power to be there for her, to protect her as best he could, even when they were compete strangers and he’d had no reason to.

It was that childhood stuff. Old wounds and all that. Maybe he had his reason to be upset.

But he should be upset with Max, not Cynthia. She didn’t have anything to do with it. And even on the Max front, it didn’t really make sense. From what Cynthia could tell, Max was a good guy. He was always helping the rest of them. He was always going out of his way to push himself trying to protect the others. And for what? For nothing. He didn’t ask for anything in return, except that the others be vigilant and cautious. Not to mention smart about what they were doing.

Max certainly wouldn’t have approved of John going off on his own, leaving Cynthia there.

An eerie feeling crept over Cynthia. She looked around at the snow and the snow-covered trees, shivering in the cold, and realized quite viscerally that she was completely alone.

Or so she hoped.

Max had been convinced there were others out there. John didn’t think so, but maybe whatever problem he had with his brother was blinding him to the truth.

Cynthia felt not just alone, but exposed. Despite all her practice with firearms, she didn’t feel confident. Sure, she’d fought before. She’d survived. But that was then. Each new situation brought new dangers.

What was she supposed to do? Should she head back to camp, finding protection among the others there?

But what about John? He was out on his own, apparently confident that there was no danger now, that everything was fine.

It just didn’t make sense. If there was anything John and Cynthia had learned together, it was that nothing was ever fine, and that new dangers lurked around every corner, every tree. Each passing minute and hour had always, so far, meant new threats on their life.

John might need her. Cynthia wasn’t mad at him. Sure, he’d blown up at her. But that could be forgiven. She had to remember all the other times, the times he’d saved her from certain death, the times he’d been kind to her when he hadn’t needed to. These were stressful situations of the worst kind. People could be excused for having a blow up now and again.

But what couldn’t be forgiven was leaving her. Striking out on his own. Potentially it meant as much danger as it did for her as it did for him.

Cynthia made her up her mind. She wasn’t going to leave John out there on his own. He couldn’t keep up that pace for long, running through the snow like that. He’d have to slow down.

All she had to do was follow his tracks.

Cynthia stood up, took a deep breath, and headed in the direction John had disappeared in.