Chapter 19: Interrogation
"Shut up, Elliot," Abby said, not even looking at him, her attention completely on the children who continued to eat as if they hadn't seen a plate in days.
The girl looked up at Abby as she finished chewing. "We saw them," she finally said, her voice firm though marked by a slight tremor. "All the fuss they made about that bunch of morons."
The boy, smaller and clearly less confident, nodded quickly. "Yeah, we thought they might be able to help us. They don't look like they're bad people."
"Don't always judge by appearances," Elliot interrupted, his words laced with sarcasm. But when the girl looked at him with a mix of defiance and exhaustion, he simply clicked his tongue and crossed his arms again.
"Besides," the girl continued, ignoring Elliot, "we saw them when those bastards took your friend. We know where their camp is."
Abby, who had been watching silently, raised an eyebrow. "How do they know?" she asked, her tone measured but full of suspicion. "And more importantly… where are your parents?"
The girl stopped eating and dropped her plate with a thud, her dark eyes shining with suppressed anger. "Do you really have to ask that?" she snapped, her voice rising a notch. "Haven't you seen the damn world we live in? They're dead, obviously! Or do you think we're just out here for fun?"
The group was silent for a moment, but Elliot didn't take his eyes off her. There was a hardness to the girl that didn't fit her age, a clear sign that she had seen more than she should have.
Abby pressed her lips together, softening her stance slightly. "Okay," she finally said, her voice lower. "You don't have to yell. But if they want our help, they need to give us something more concrete."
The girl took a deep breath, struggling to control her temper. Her brother, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation, looked toward her as if seeking permission before speaking. "They have our grandfather," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Elliot leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Your grandfather?" he repeated.
The girl nodded firmly, her expression hardening again. "Yeah. We were just passing through when those bastards jumped us. My brother and I managed to escape, but they took our grandfather."
"Why?" Owen asked from the back, his tone laced with skepticism. "What could a band of cannibals want with an old man?"
The girl glared at him. "Do you really need me to explain it to you? Because they're fucking psychopaths, that's why! They eat people, they do horrible things..." Her voice cracked a little, but she quickly recovered. "He... he's all we have left."
Elliot leaned his back against the wall, letting out a sigh. "And you thought following us was your best option."
"Yeah," the girl replied, her gaze fixed on him. "They seem strong. Organized. And they're not like them." Her voice dropped, almost to a whisper. "We know we can't save him alone. But with your help, maybe we have a chance."
The group exchanged glances. No one spoke right away, but the girl's words seemed to have touched something in everyone. Finally, Abby broke the silence.
"Where's that camp?" he asked.
The girl lifted her chin, as if she were assessing whether they could be trusted completely. "It's a few miles north, in an abandoned factory. It's not very big, but they have surveillance and…" She paused, swallowing before continuing. "…And they're well armed."
Manny let out an exasperated sigh. "Great. Another shithole full of crazy people armed to the teeth."
"We've dealt with them before," Mel said, her tone calmer. "And if we can save Leah and her grandfather, then it's worth a shot."
"Are we really considering this?" Owen asked, crossing his arms. "With what happened a few hours ago, we already have enough problems."
"And what are you proposing? We leave Leah with those monsters?" Mel replied, her voice full of reproach. "That's not going to happen."
Elliot finally stood up, looking directly at Abby. "You know we have to go," he said, his tone firmer than usual. "Leaving them there isn't an option. And if we find Leah, we might as well take advantage of it to get rid of that gang once and for all."
Abby looked at him for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," she finally said, her voice tense. "But if we do this, we do it carefully. No more recklessness. We plan every step before we move."
The children seemed to relax slightly, though the tension on their faces was still evident. "Thank you," the girl said, her voice soft but full of gratitude. "I know you don't have to help us, but... thank you."
-x.X.x-
"So how did you end up in this situation?" Owen asked as he walked alongside the children. They had left the gas station behind a little over half an hour ago, carefully advancing through paths covered in weeds and debris. The atmosphere was tense, but the children, especially the eldest, seemed accustomed to the hostility of the outside world.
Manny led the way, holding a metal pipe as a makeshift weapon, while Elliot and Owen kept up the rear, hands near their weapons. The group moved in tight formation, following the directions of the little ones.
The girl, after a long silence, finally answered, her voice low but firm. "We lived on the outskirts of Seattle. We were part of a small community, barely twenty people."
Owen and Manny exchanged a look upon hearing the name of the city. They both knew what that meant.
The girl continued, not paying attention to their reactions. "At first we were fine. We were self-sufficient, we kept a low profile. But then they came... the Wolves."
"At first," the girl continued, "they showed up saying they'd protect us. They just wanted food, a couple of guns, whatever we had. My grandfather said they were extortionists in disguise, but some in the community wanted to go along with it. Not everyone could see the obvious."
"So what happened?" Owen asked, his tone less harsh than usual.
The girl clenched her fists, her jaw tensing at the memory. "What always happens. First they took some sort of tax, but then they raided us. They took our supplies and killed those who resisted. Afterwards, they wanted us to join them, give them everything we had. My grandfather got us out of there before we could be next on their list."
"So they ended up here," Elliot said from the rear, his tone neutral that didn't betray how much the story interested him.
The girl nodded. "We managed to escape to the east. We moved with what little we had, surviving as best we could. Along the way we met a trader. We accompanied him for a while, trading small things for food or information. He was the one who told us about a place."
"What place?" Manny asked, turning his head toward her in curiosity.
"Jackson," the girl answered, a spark of hope in her voice. "He told us that in Wyoming there was a community. That they accepted anyone as long as you weren't a danger. That you could really live there, without constant fear. It seemed too good to be true."
Elliot paused for a moment at the name, his mind working quickly. He knew Jackson.
"Jackson, huh," Elliot muttered to himself, his gaze fixed on the road before them.
Elliot shrugged, his face impenetrable as ever. "I've only heard stories. Nothing concrete. But if it's real, it might be the only sensible option for them."
"If it's real," Manny repeated, his tone indicating skepticism. "Because in this world, such things rarely are."
"Let's keep moving," he finally said, tightening his grip on his machete. "We'll talk about Jackson after we clean up this mess."
Finally, they reached the abandoned factory, a behemoth of concrete and steel that loomed grimly against the horizon. The walls, covered in graffiti and patches of rust, looked like gaping cracks in a wound. The group crouched behind a bush, hidden among the undergrowth and scrap metal that surrounded the place.
"There it is," the girl whispered, pointing toward the building with a firm wave of her hand. Her eyes shone with determination, despite the obvious tension on her face.
Elliot followed the direction she indicated, watching carefully. Out front, a group of men milled around several campfires, their silhouettes illuminated by the flickering flames. The battered vehicles, with open doors and broken lights, were parked in a haphazard formation. Some men smoked while laughing, and others leaned over a makeshift table, apparently playing cards.
"How many are there?" Manny asked in a whisper, as he adjusted his grip on the metal pipe he carried as a weapon.
"The entrance is guarded by six," the girl replied without taking her eyes off the place. "But inside... there must be at least twenty more."
"A pretty big gang for such idiots," Elliot muttered, his eyes darting from point to point as he assessed the place.
"How do you know that?" Owen asked, looking at the girl skeptically.
"Because I remember everything I see," she replied firmly, her tone as sharp as her gaze. "I watched them before they attacked us. I counted their movements, listened to their conversations. They're not that smart, but they're enough to be a problem if we do something wrong."
"And what else do you know?" Elliot pressed, his voice low but strained.
"There are guards inside and outside," the girl continued. "They usually leave two at the front entrance and two at the back. They change every two hours, but never all at the same time. The ones not on guard usually stay on the ground floor, near the fire pits. Some go to the second floor, but only to keep watch or rest."
"And the basement?" Manny asked, his gaze fixed on the broken windows of the building.
The girl gulped, her expression darkening. "That's where they keep the prisoners. Two guards are always down there. I heard them say they don't like leaving anyone alone with the living."
The rawness of her words left the group silent for a moment. Elliot looked at the rest, their faces hardened but attentive. Finally, he turned to the girl and gave her a slight nod.
"Good job," he said, his tone almost sincere. "But if we're going to get Leah and your grandfather out, we need more than information. We need a plan."
The air in the clearing where they were gathered immediately grew tense. Elliot moved with calculated swiftness, grabbing the girl by the hair and placing the edge of the machete against her neck. His move was so unexpected that even Manny, who was always prepared, took a step back, taken aback.
"Elliot! What the fuck are you doing!" Owen exclaimed, his eyes wide as he tried to process the scene.
"This doesn't add up," Elliot growled, ignoring the cries of protest as he kept his gaze fixed on the girl. "She knows too much. Too much for someone who's supposedly on the run. Now speak." His tone was low, menacing, each word imbued with an intensity that made even Manny tense.
"It's the truth!" The girl stammered, her voice breaking as she tried to pull away from the machete pressing dangerously against her neck. "I'm not lying!"
"The truth?" Elliot let out a dry laugh, one that held no hint of humor. "A fourteen-year-old girl who knows how many guards there are, how they move, and where our friends are? Please. This smells like an ambush, and I'm not going to fall for your little game. Now talk, you fucking girl, or I swear I'll kill your brother before your eyes."
The little brother, still held by Manny, struggled with all his might. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he screamed, "Leave her! Leave her, please!"
Elliot didn't take his eyes off the little girl, keeping the grip of the machete firm. "Tell them the truth, Kiara," the little boy said in a broken voice, his words coming out between sobs. "Tell them what's happening."
Kiara began to shake, terror evident in her eyes. Her body tensed, and she finally gave in under the weight of the circumstances. "I didn't want to do it!" she screamed, tears running down her cheeks. "We had no choice!"
"What didn't you want to do?" Elliot pressed, leaning toward her, his eyes like daggers. "Talk now or I'll make good on my threat."
"They said they would release our grandfather," she finally confessed, her voice cracking. "They captured us. They told us they would release him if we brought them here. That's all I know! I'm not lying to you!"
"And Leah?" Elliot insisted, his tone even more dangerous. "What about our friend?"
Kiara squeezed her eyes shut, as if she wanted to disappear right then. "They're waiting for you. They said it was their revenge for what they did to their men."
Elliot sighed deeply, pulling the machete away from her neck but not letting go completely. He pushed her down to the ground roughly, watching her with a mix of frustration and contempt. "I knew this smelled bad," he muttered. "Anything else we should know before we walk headlong into the trap?"
Kiara shook her head, hugging her brother as they both cried silently.
"Elliot, fuck!" Owen roared, finally finding his voice. He took a step towards him, fists clenched. "What's wrong with you? She's just a kid! You could have killed her."
"What if she's lying? You want us to blindly go in trusting and end up like morons surrounded by those bastards?" Elliot retorted, turning to Owen with eyes full of fury. "I'm not such an idiot that I'd ignore a warning sign like this."
"That doesn't justify threatening to kill a couple of kids!" Owen shouted, coming closer.
"Stop it!" Manny intervened, stepping between them. His face was full of exhaustion, but his voice held an authoritative weight that he didn't usually display. "We're all tired and on edge, but we don't have time for this shit. We have to decide what to do before it's too late."
Elliot turned to Manny, still furious, but he finally relaxed his shoulders. "We'll leave them here," he said in a cold tone. "If they're telling the truth, they can wait and meet their grandfather later. If not, I don't want them to be a problem while we're inside."
"Leave them alone? We can't do that!" Owen replied, incredulously.
"We're not babysitters, Owen," Elliot said harshly. "And I don't care what you think. They've caused enough."
The children, still holding each other, watched the argument with eyes filled with fear and guilt. "We didn't lie to them," Kiara murmured, her voice barely audible.
"That remains to be seen," Elliot said, with one last cold glance before turning back toward the factory. "If you want them to believe in you, nothing you said better be false."
Manny sighed deeply, watching the children with a mix of pity and frustration. "What if they're right? What do we do now?"
Elliot raised the machete, wiping the dried blood off its blade with a piece of cloth from his belt. "What we always do: improvise and don't die."
Abby, Mel, and Nora weren't there to calm the situation. They were still at the gas station taking care of Jordan, and that absence seemed to weigh more heavily than Elliot was willing to admit.
End of Chapter 19
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