Their Rebellion

The sun peeked through the top of the tent, forcing a ray of bright light down on my face. The warmth it gave me felt good against my skin, but my thick, quilted blanket felt like an oven after so long. The weather seemed nice for a day in Ireland, but the warm weather was something I always welcomed with open arms. I tossed the thick sheet off of the lower half of my body, finding that Abby and Murphy were still well asleep.

I stretched my arms back, hearing the pops and cracks of my joints and bones. I huffed quietly and slowly, without waking ether of the two, got to my feet. I slid my feet into my boots, knowing very well that we would be leaving once Maire was up. I must have been the only one awake, because there was not a single sound of movement outside. I plucked my thinly made sweatshirt from the side and snaked my arms through its sleeves.

I inched the tent door open with shaky fingers and found I was greeted by more than just the bright sun. It certainly was warm outside, as a light breeze licked at my face and neck. It almost sent goosebumps racing across my skin by how lovely the day had started out. I zipped my sweatshirt half way up my abdomen as I stomped toward Thatcher's side. I dug my hand greedily into his saddle bag, taking out a small .22 we had near the bottom.

I was the only one up, so wasting a little time by checking the perimeter wouldn't hurt. I was in a good need of a walk, as I could feel my knees and ankles popping with each step I took. I looked up at the sky, noticing that it was definately early, as the sky still held the soft glow of pinks, oranges and blues. I slid the .22 in between my hip and jeans, hoping that I wouldn't have a chance to use it on my early morning walk.

I stayed close to camp, in case I would need to shout for help, but kept a decent distance from the tents and horses. I quietly stepped through the thick brushed, eyeing down anything I could, in hopes that I didn't come across an infected bunch. I noticed my hand was pressed tight against my hip, in any case I would need my gun, it was only a milisecond away. Within what I believed to be a good ten minutes, I stepped into camp with a relieved sigh.

I didn't need a gun. I didn't need help. I just needed the semi relaxing walk. I let my hands fall to my hips as I walked in, eyeing down the dead fire pit. Instant coffee was a large plus, especially when camping, because all you needed was hot water, powdered milk, coffee mix and sugar. We had no sugar or milk accessories, but the water and coffee we did. I started a small, compact fire and poured a few glasses of water into a metal container.

I set it into the fire and waited, wishing my morning caffeine kick would hurry along. I peered around the camp, while holding a small cup, wondering when everyone would decide to rise. I stopped myself quickly, though, when my eyes wandered upon Maire's marine pack. I could feel a lump of persuasion get caught in my throat, so I tried to swallow it down. I looked back and forth between the tent and her pack, wondering if I had a chance.

I could hear the gentle snores coming from some of the sleepers, so I slowly got to my feet, setting my cup down smoothly beside my seat. I only wanted to know her route, in case I managed to snag a futuristic act of violence down the road. She seemed intent on keeping my eyes away from the map, which I politely asked to see. I took in a deep breath as I stared down at the tan pack, thinking of what could happen if I were caught.

I peeked around the camp site once more and after a mental nudge, began to peel open the flaps to her bag. I stopped halfway when I saw that tattered piece of paper and grinned to myself. I reached down, gently laced my fingers around the rolled up piece of evidence, when a quiet click echoed out behind me. I froze, feeling the cold, and oh so familiar, metal barrel pressed into my right temple.

"What'er ya doin', pig?"Maire's words dripped with hate.

I could feel a growl begin to form in the back of my throat. I wanted so badly to knock the gun from her hands. I watched the movements in my head, wondering which act would hurt her more in the end. I almost wanted Maire to pull the trigger, because she would surely be shot when the group found me dead. That was only wishful thinking, though.

"I know where you're sendin' us, Maire. It's a god damn death trap is what it is."I spat angrily."That or a place where they'll be waitin' to experiment on their own kind. Honestly, I'd rather death."

"That can be arranged, Adrienne."Maire sneered.

A loud groan seemed to force a crack in the tension. I could hear, and I'm sure Maire could as well, the rustling of someone moving around in Connor's tent.

"Ya leave me things alone. Do we have an understandin'?"Maire spat cruelly.

I could feel the familiar feeling I would get when on the job. When you're squished beneath someone's thumb, who might very well be planning your death. The cold barrel of a gun pressed in between your eyes, your temple or under your chin. The shaking of your hands is what comes first - adrenaline. The ragged breath as it works its way into your heart, where only then does your body become a puppet under its rush.

I clenched my fists tightly together and through chattering teeth, took a deep breath. She wouldn't know what was coming to her. I swung my right arm around, knocking Maire's stone still hand away from my head. I turned with the swing, watching as she brought her head head back from being hit. I tightened my left elbow as I passed her face into a hard, ninety degree angle and with a quiet swoosh, I threw it back to not connect with the jawline I thought was there.

I had missed with my hard throw and was greeted by a hard punch to the stomach. I doubled over, searching for my fresh breath of air. I watched, in what seemed to be slow motion, as Maire's knee lifted, hitting me painfully hard in the face. My head recoiled back at the pressure and my knees gave out from under me. I fell with a bone shattering thud onto my back and weezed for another breath of oxygen.

My hands cradled my stomach as Maire aimed her gun at my head once more. Behind the irises of her eyes showed pure hatred, her twisted smile a sense of dark humor. In a cool, calm voice, she said, "Jus' stay away from me things, or a blow to the stomach'll feel better than for what else I've got in store for ya."

Maire shoved her gun in between her pants and hip, just like I had done so many times before. She turned on her heel, all the while collecting her bag and map in one hand. Maire walked away, leaving me slightly breathless on the dirt ground. I looked over at the horses, watching as they whinnied and pawed at the ground. I groaned when sitting up and wiped a hand over my wet lip. Blood. Maire had made me bleed.

The rustling in Connor's tent stopped when I climbed to my feet and the ear piercing zipper on the door started. I collected what spit was in my mouth before watching it ooze, spiraling reds and clear, onto the ground. Another hand crossed my lips as Paul waltzed out of the tent, early morning written in his eyes. I poured myself a cup of black coffee as Smecker found a seat beside me.

I sat down, offering him a cup and earned a shrug. I poured him a glass as well and nearly shoved it into his hands. Paul stole a peek in my direction, smirking that smug smile he's grown infamous for and scoffed. He stirred his cup with his finger, ignoring the steaming water and chuckled quietly. After a quick huff, he said, "Asking if you're okay would only be playing with our intelligance. So, I'll ask what comes next. What happened?"

"Our new friend."My eyes stayed fixed on Maire as she toyed with her weapons.

"Well, it's a nice battle wound. Did you hit'er?"He asked.

I was almost ashamed to say, "Not nearly."

"Well, all I have to say is good luck."He grinned.

"For?"I asked.

"Tellin the boys. She got you good. Try explaining a split lip and bruised cheek."He mused."They both seem to be loving our new hero."

"She ain't no hero, Paul."I sneered."She's a god damn threat and none of them boys can see it."

I slipped from my steaming cup and winced at the burn. I swallowed hard, watching as Maire cocked back her guns, checked the number of bullets here and there.

"If it makes you feel any better, darling, I don't quite trust the broad either."Paul admitted."It's only a matter of time before she slips and shows her true colours."

Paul stopped and we simultaneously sipped from our morning joe. Maire cocked her head to theside, barely getting a glimpse of us and glared. She was angry, but I was pissed.

"She can't pretend forever."Paul whispered.