Their Rebellion

The cabin had fallen silent under the tense conditions that were making themselves known. The three of us had taken refuge in the small living room, where we thought would be best in case of an emergency. Abby had curled up into the couch, pulling her knees tight into her chest. She was certainly afraid, knowing very well that we faced what we thought we had escaped months earlier in the United States. Paul sat carelessly on the other side, his eyes glued in one of Irelands newspapers.

The thick, bold ink on the paper never admitted to an out break here in it's grassy hills and vast lands, but I knew it wouldn't because it had just occured. It said nothing on the large amount of cannibalistic people throwing themselves at others for a bite of warm flesh, but it did mention here and there that the Marine's were beginning to slack on their duties. I tried to walk casually back and forth across the hard wood floors, but my panicked stepping seemed to catch their attention.

I had a hand on my hip and my gun bound tightly within my fingers as I occasionally stole glances at the front door. Connor and Murphy had been gone for nearly two hours, which never happened once before while here. The walk to town was short, so I tried to trick myself into thinking they had run into an old friend along the way. I couldn't be sure if my fears were coming back to reality until the brothers had returned home, where I was sure to reem them out for worrying me so much.

I took a few extra steps before Paul looked up from his read and said, "Your constant pacing is giving me a headache, dear. Why don't you sit down?"

"I can't do that right now, Paul."I mumbled quietly.

I was waiting to hear the obnoxious bangs coming from the front door, letting me know that Connor and Murphy didn't appreciate me locking them out of their own home. Yet each minute that went by and those bangs weren't heard, I became that much more nervous about the whole situation. I could hear the quiet sniffles coming from my side, so I turned to face a worried Abby. Though she may be almost fifteen years old, she was a rather mature and smart little girl.

She knew exactly what could be going on, even if I didn't admit to it. I stepped up to her and rested a hand on the side of her face. When she looked up, I felt increasingly horrible as her eyes began to well up significantly in tears. I tried my best to give her a comforting smile and said, "It's goin' to alright, Abby."

Her salty tears began to roll down her thin cheeks and she pulled away from my warm grip. She ran her wrists over her eyes continusouly and breathed, "I thought we were safe here, Adrienne."

I was dumb struck by her statement. I had no answer to soothe her, which worried me that much more. I couldn't hug her until she felt better about this subject; it was something we all had to deal with. I turned away from her, quietly whispering, "Me too, sweetheart."

When we had first arrived, Murphy was thoughtful enough to hide our duffle bags away and under the beds, to keep our memories from coming back at full force. Even though I tried my best to be content with having a free life, I couldn't fight my wanting of having to carry a weapon on me here and there. I let a quiet sigh echo into the room, which was followed quickly by loud, consistent banging on the front door. I turned to Paul, as my fingers tightened around my glock.

Even though he kept his carefree attitude on for Abby and I to see, I could see the worry in his face as he gently sat his read aside. He pulled out his small hand gun as well as I pointed a finger in Abby's direction. In a low, hushed whisper, I said, "Stay with Paul."

The bangs grew increasingly loud as I approached the front door and I took in a deep breath. My fingers tightened immensely on the trigger of my gun as I silently unlatched the lock on the door. The person, or people, on the other side stayed silent, not letting me know who was on the other side. I would like to believe that Connor and Murphy would call out my name as they demanded an entrance into their own home. The door shook with the amount of force behind the hits.

This would be my only chance to warn those on the other side that this cabin is not one to be fucked with. If they wished to continue with their assaults, if there were any, they would be tasting the bullets in my forty caliber hand gun. I threw open the front door and took aim, catching a breathless face I knew all too well. Behind Connor was Murphy, but who was behind them took me for a loop. Their was an Irish Marine, gun rested tightly in her arms.

Her eyes held a cold, uncaring look to them as the corners of her lips pulled up into a smirk. Connor slowly rose his hands to his chest in defense and whispered, "Ya get a kick outta doin' that, don't ya?"