We stopped walking when night began to fall, finding a house that was mostly intact. We were sitting in awkward silence around a campfire that Annabelle had made in a collapsed part of the floor.
“So, what’s your story, Annabelle?” I ask, curious about our new group member.
“Well, both my parents are dead, and I used to live in the suburbs until everything went to hell. I fled out here, to the countryside, and ended up caught up in one of the many bandit gangs that roam around here. I left them about a year ago after I had a… Disagreement with their leader. I’ve lived on my own since then.” She tells the story nonchalantly, as if your average girl would’ve done the exact same.
“How did some chick like you manage to kill those three guys?” Jordan asks rudely
“Might I remind you that this “chick” saved your lives?” Annabelle replies venomously “And anyway, I rose pretty high in the ranks of the bandits and learned a thing or two from those degenerates.”
“I think what my friend means,” I say, shooting Jordan a glare “is how were you able to make the slip-second decision to kill those guys without hesitation?” The question had been burning in my mind all day, and this seemed like a safe enough time to ask it.
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“If someone is trying to hurt you, you’d best be trying to hurt them. That’s something my dad told me when I was little, and it always stuck. Reighlin shot at me, I had to respond in turn.”
“But what about his lackeys, they didn’t do anything!” Jordan demands
“What if one of them had a gun, and shot us as we walked away? We didn’t know what they were prepared to do, and I erred on the side of caution.” She explains the concept patiently, as if talking to children.
“Sounds fair enough.” I say, a little shocked at how logical her explanation was.
“Now that I’ve shared my story, what’s yours? You guys must have one.” She pushes. I glance at Jordan, who shakes his head almost imperceptibly, clearly not thinking we should tell her.
But something about Annabelle seems trustworthy to me, and besides, it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to tell her story but hide ours.
“Well, it’s not that interesting. Jordan and I have been friends for as long as I can remember, our parents are dead, my sister disappeared, and so we just lived in my grandparents’ cottage for the past two years.” I tell the story quickly, feeling Jordan’s eyes boring into my back.
“I’m so sorry. Not knowing what happened to your sister must be terrible.” She replies.
“It’s okay, I just try not to think about it. She’s probably dead by this point anyway.” I say defeatedly.
“No, she isn’t, Seb! Don’t talk like that, she can take care of herself!” Jordan yells at me as soon as the words leave my mouth. He’d always had a thing for Jess, who was a year younger than us, and according to him, ‘the prettiest girl to have walked the earth’. Jordan is always the more optimistic of the two of us, and if it helps him deal with everything that’s going on, I guess I can’t fault him for it.