EXTINCTION EVENT

chapter sixteen: a comfortable lie

[ season 1, episode 5; cobalt ]

DAY 15

The Guard had taken eleven people the previous night, but peeking through the living room curtains, you'd never guess. Cries of protest that broke the silence of curfew and hung long into the dark of the previous night gave way to a placid, grey morning. Neighbors continued their daily routines, as if they hadn't seen their loved ones dragged from their beds in the dead of night, with no explanation. Take the trash to the curb (as if someone was going to pick it up). Plan your outfits for the week (like there was anyone left to impress). Sit quietly by, uncomplaining, and wait for your family to return (as if the Guard would actually bring them back).

Katie turned away from the curtains with a disbelieving exhale. Sheep, the lot of them.

The girls were wrapping up their breakfast, already dressed for the day — Meghan in a simple navy and white sailor-stripe top with jeans, and Heather in a red baseball tee and jean shorts as Holly patrolled the floor below them, prepared for any stray crumbs that might come her way. Katie, for her part, had opted for a dark blouse and faded jeans she mostly used for work around the house, as well as her boots.

It wasn't the yuppie look she'd been attempting to project over the past couple weeks, but today she had a feeling it wouldn't be necessary.

They'd outlived their welcome in the Safe Zone.

Her youngest leaned forward, peering over the kitchen bar to see her mother's approach from the hall. The monochrome plaid draped over the back of her seat as Heather adjusted its position on her waist, sneakers squeaking as she tucked up her feet upon the legs of the barstool.

"Where are you heading?" Heather questioned, not waiting for an answer before she shoveled another bite of porridge in her mouth.

"Remember to chew," Meghan chastised beside her. "And breathe." Heather nodded as if she was paying attention, and dutifully swallowed — then shoved another mouthful in, giving Meghan a triumphant look. Her older sister scoffed and seemed set to argue, until Katie began to speak.

"I'm going over to the Clarks." She paused behind the counter, and waited for her girls to pay attention before she spoke again. "If last night proved anything, it's that we've outstayed our welcome."

"We're leaving?" Meghan asked, now completely ignoring her sister's antics. "When?"

"That's what I'm heading over to figure out," she replied. "We have a rough idea of some of the openings in patrol, but there's nothing big enough to sneak out a car." Katie swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat, and met Meghan's gaze. "And we can't afford to get caught."

Meghan bit her lip, hands twisting together on the table as she gave a grim nod in return, the full meaning of which was lost on their youngest member. Katie hadn't told Heather about what Meghan found outside the Safe Zone — how the military was killing the living as well as the dead. They'd agreed it would only scare her, and they didn't want her to panic.

Ironically, Meghan's disobedience actually resulted in Katie's renewed trust in her — the latter using her as a confidant when discussing the possible ways to escape their white-picket fence prison.

They needed three things — supplies, a set of wheels, and guns.

Supplies were a no-brainer — they'd built up a decent stash during their time in the Safe Zone, enough to get them to the desert without issue. The main focus now was finding a vehicle and a weapon.

Meghan's BMW was workable as a back-up plan of a back-up plan, but Katie wasn't a fan of crossing Los Angeles in a car with a half-shattered windshield. Katie had theorized one of the military vehicles could work for their purposes, but actually getting ahold of one seemed to be more trouble than it was worth.

As for firepower, they had a crossbow, a fire axe, and a meat cleaver. But, while Meghan did have a strong (and potentially unhealthy) attachment to her crossbow, she knew enough to know you didn't bring a crossbow to a gunfight. However, there were slim pickings. The military had confiscated what little guns they'd found, and the stores around were definitely looted by then.

One thing was clear: this wasn't something they could do on their own. What they really needed were allies. Like it or not, none of them truly knew the area, and it was becoming increasingly clear that there was strength in numbers.

As tenuous as the relationship between the Clark and Darcy families had been, they had a common goal, and a common enemy. If they wanted to escape the Safe Zone, they needed each other.

"You think the Guard might try to take us?" Heather asked, dark eyes flitting between the two. She wasn't stupid — Katie could tell that her daughter suspected they were holding something back but she wouldn't be able to guess what it was. "Like they took Nick and Griselda?"

"That's one concern," Katie evaded Heather's questions, and turned to Meghan to confirm they were ready to leave. "Everything's packed?"

"Can't pack what you never unpacked," Meghan responded, then added, "I double-checked last night while you were calming Madison down, then again this morning. Everything's ready to go."

"What about the food you have out now?"

"It's just for breakfast, I'll put it away after."

"Two is one—"

"—and one is none, I know," Meghan stressed, finishing up the familiar phrase before bringing a bite of porridge up to her mouth.

Katie pursed her lips and waited until she was sure Meghan was done, then spoke. "We just can't afford any mistakes."

"I know," Meghan emphasized, then gave her mother a serious look. "Trust me. I won't make any, not anymore."

"I understand," Katie responded, then added, "Thank you." This wasn't easy for any of them, but Meghan had been bearing most of the weight of Katie's expectations since they'd arrived. Considering everything she'd gone through with her dorm and Caitlyn, it was astonishing she was doing so well.

"You should take your showers today," Katie advised on her way out the door. At Meghan's puzzled look, she said, "they might be the last ones you have for awhile."

At Meghan's promise that they would, Katie was free to leave. The walk to the Clark's house was brief, and she didn't bother to knock before entering. The knob turned without issue, and Katie moved through the home silently, finally stopping at the entryway of the dining room from the kitchen. At the table, Madison sat silent, making no acknowledgement of her presence.

The woman seemed to be a shell of herself. Glazed eyes stared blankly into the distance as she rested her head in one hand, the other loose on her cooling coffee mug. The fire that had fueled Madison the past night was nothing more than embers now, stomped out after reality had settled in and all she was left with was the cold knowledge that her child had been taken away, and she was helpless to protect him.

Katie couldn't help but feel every time Madison looked at her, it was with a smidgen of resentment. That she wished Katie's daughter was taken, in place of her son. Neither of them mentioned it aloud, though. Whatever bad blood brewed between the two mothers, their interests were aligned. They both wanted out of the Safe Zone, and they needed each other to make it happen.

Now to figure out the 'how.'

The floorboard creak behind her indicated the arrival of a new figure. There was a clink on the kitchen counter as he set down something, then a heavy sigh. After a moment, the familiar gentle tone of their once 'mayor' sounded.

"She alright?" Travis kept his voice low, hovering in the archway between the dining room and kitchen. He held out his hand, gripped around a coffee mug, offering it out to her.

"She's in shock," Katie responded in a like tone, nodding towards the woman as she accepted the mug gratefully. "She just had her son stolen last night, that's bound to send anyone spiraling."

Travis let out a deep breath, and dipped his head in resigned understanding. He took a minute, then spoke again. "I just want to say, I appreciate everything you've been doing," he said quietly. "Maddy doesn't always show it, but I know she has too. Having you and your family around, the past week, it's helped more than you know."

"It's the least I can do," Katie brushed off the praise and met his gaze, nodding her head towards the woman who truly needed his support. Travis took the silent hint, and picked up the second cup of coffee from the counter, entering the dining room.

"I got to go," he spoke. Travis placed the two coffees on the table, pausing as Madison curled her arm around his, leaning against him for support.

Katie stepped back further into the kitchen, not wanting to intrude on the private scene.

Travis continued to speak in hushed tones while Katie looked out the kitchen window. She leaned back against the kitchen counter, sipping her coffee quietly while she waited. From what she could discern, Travis planned on going to find one of the military men — Moyers — and speaking with him about the possibility of getting their people back.

From her time spent with the Clarks over the past week, she knew Travis was a good man. One thing about good people, is they often believe in the good of others, even against all logic.

There was no negotiating for their people back. They just had to take them.

An abrupt exhale brought Katie out of her thoughts and she glanced up to see the youngest member of the Clark household stomping his way over to the archway.

"Hey," Travis said, almost in surprise at seeing his son. "Get any sleep?"

Katie's lips twisted in genuine sympathy at the sight of the boy. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn't too enthused when Heather and Chris started becoming friendlier — she didn't need Heather getting twisted up in some moody teenager's melodrama in the middle of an epidemic. Still, despite her reservations, she couldn't help but feel for the boy. There wasn't a universe where she could imagine herself willingly abandoning either of her daughters to go play nursemaid for strangers, especially one in which the dead were beginning to rise.

Katie couldn't imagine how hard that would be for a child, to know the one person in his life who had promised to protect and care for him no matter what, had placed the well-being of strangers over her own son.

Whatever Chris was feeling, he was keeping it hidden for now, expression deliberately cool and blank in the face of Travis's paternal concern. He didn't acknowledge his father's inquiry, leaning up against the door frame as he responded with a question of his own. "So what's the plan?"

"Oh, we were just talking about it," Travis replied, glancing down and across to Madison and Katie, who'd drifted into his sightline within the kitchen as she watched the tense discussion.

There was an edge to Chris's voice when he spoke again. "Shouldn't I be a part of the discussion? I just think that someone should be looking out for mom's best interests."

He obviously wasn't as unaffected as he was pretending, Katie thought. The kid was on the verge of a breakdown, and who could blame him?

"We're looking out for everyone."

Chris gave his father a cold look. "Are we?"

At this, Madison interjected, adopting the warm, non-judgmental guidance counselor tone Katie had come to recognize. "We know you're upset, Chris, we all are—"

"Madison," Chris cut her off, "would you please not interrupt me while I'm talking with my father about family matters, okay?"

Travis tried again. "Chris—"

"Why is she even here?" the teen interjected, and pointed back to Katie, who bristled at suddenly being dragged into the domestic dispute. "She's not even a part of this family, and she gets more of a say than me?"

Madison dropped Travis's arm, letting him go as he walked over to pull Chris aside, where they continued their argument. Madison looked down at the table and silently pulled her mug closer to herself.

In the other room, Chris drew back, aggravated at whatever Travis had ordered, and scoffed. "Go be with your family, dad," he snapped, slamming the door as he left the house.

"I'm sorry, he didn't mean it," Travis apologized, returning to the dining room. Madison looked up blankly and Katie looked away, bringing her mug a bit closer to herself as she bit the corner of her mouth.

He absolutely meant it. He meant every word.

The couple seemed ready to have their own discussion, so Katie excused herself to the living room.

Once Travis left, Katie entered again, and stood quietly in the doorway. When it became clear Madison was either unwilling or unable to begin their conversation, she started. "You wanted to talk.

So, let's talk."

✖  ✖  ✖

Meghan didn't hear the knocks at the door from the master bedroom. As she finished taping up the last box, packing up what was left of their food and belongings, she stepped back to admire her work. Aside from the duffels that contained their personal items and clothes, she'd successfully managed to pack and organize their food, military rations, weapons, and emergency supplies into boxes and bins she'd pilfered from around the home.

She was so pleased with herself, it took until Holly started barking at the door for her to notice there was someone waiting.

She ran out of the room and to the front door, not bothering to even peek out before throwing it open — it had to be Katie, she thought, coming back to announce that they were ready to leave ASAP.

It was not Katie.

"Oh," Meghan said. "You."

"Me," Alicia confirmed. The youngest member of the Clark family stood on the porch steps, stock still as Holly squeezed past Meghan's legs to sniff at the newcomer. There was a pause as neither girl was quite sure of what to say — they hadn't spoken since their argument over Alicia's bike. It was obvious she wasn't there for Meghan's company, but unfortunately Heather was predisposed and couldn't come rushing in to save her sister from the awkward encounter.

"Heather's in the shower," Meghan explained briefly. "She just got in, so if you want to hang out, you'll have to come back later."

"I actually came by to talk to you," Alicia corrected.

Meghan didn't believe what she was hearing. "Me?"

"Yeah," Alicia leaned to the side, peering around Meghan and into the house. "Are you going to let me in?"

"I guess," Meghan muttered, stepping aside to allow the girl entry. What the hell?

"Do you want some coffee?" Meghan offered as she led the teen to the kitchen, her words coming out far more stilted than she'd like. It was as if she was reading off a script rather than speaking organically.

"No, I'm good."

"Oh. Well. You want some tea?"

"No, thank you."

"Water?" Meghan suggested, running out of things to offer to put off having whatever heart-to-heart Alicia had planned. "You drink water, right?"

"I'm good, thanks."

"Great." It wasn't great.

A silence fell over the kitchen, as stifling as it was at the Clarks home that dinner. Meghan was starting to have a feeling that she and that family were cursed to never have any pleasant conversations. Try as she may, Meghan couldn't come up with a single innocent reason for Alicia to stop by and see her. Had she come by to accuse her of something else? Yell at her again for stealing the bike? There was no explanation in Meghan's mind that made any semblance of sense. The only person she'd gotten on good terms with and stayed on good terms with in the neighborhood was Ofelia, and she wasn't coming around anytime soon, after what had happened with her mother.

...which was the same thing that happened to Alicia's brother.

Oh, no. Meghan hadn't even expressed her condolences. Not only did Alicia see her as a bike thief, but now she was coming across as completely heartless.

"I'm sorry," she ended up blurting out. "About your brother. What happened to him with the Guard, that was...messed up."

"He'll be fine," the Clark teen brushed off her concern, then muttered, "he's too stubborn to die."

After another awkward moment elapsed, Alicia spoke up. "I'm sorry for freaking out over the bike thing. I was having kind of a shitty day and overheard what you and Nick were saying." At Meghan's blank stare, she elaborated. "I thought you were going to give him drugs."

Oh. Oh.

Of course Alicia was pissed at her — why wouldn't she be?

"I wasn't," she said immediately. "I mean, I told him I was, just because I didn't want him to tell everyone about my going outside the fences, but I wasn't actually going to." Meghan twisted her hands together, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a second before saying, "I know how damaging that can be, so I wouldn't have ever done that to someone else."

With that, a silent understanding had passed between the two of them, one that could only come from lived experience. The air seemed lighter, and Meghan was comfortable enough to broach what had been on her mind since Alicia's arrival.

"I'm also sorry for stealing your bike," Meghan finally said, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the counter, eyes darting away to the tiled floor. "It wasn't something I planned to do, I just saw it and — I don't know, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for freaking out over it. I overreacted."

"It's fine, I probably would've been the same way," Meghan waved her off. "You don't need to feel bad."

Alicia nodded silently, taking in her words for a minute before she finally admitted, "It wasn't actually my bike."

"...What?"

"It was some neighbor kids'. They've been gone since the start, so...finder's keepers, I guess."

"So I stole a stolen bike?"

"Repossessed was the term I was going by," Alicia corrected, and Meghan rolled her eyes, an incredulous scoff making its way out of her throat.

By the entrance of the kitchen, a familiar face poked their head in, currently wrapped in a towel-turban. "Is it safe to come in yet?"

"It's fine, we worked it out," Meghan waved her sister in, and her younger sister skipped over to join them.

"Excuse me for not wanting to venture into No Man's Land without making sure the white flag was raised," Heather said in mock annoyance. Glancing between the two, she asked, "so you guys are cool now?"

Alicia nodded.

"Good," she replied cheerily. "It was really annoying when you guys were being all pissy."

"That wasn't the only reason I came over," Alicia noted, earning curious looks from the sisters. "There's something I wanted to show you two. It's not too far, and it'll be fun. Anything to get our minds off what's going on, right?"

"I don't know if we should—" Meghan tried, but was cut off by her sister's groans.

"Come on," Heather complained. "This could be our last chance to do anything fun around here."

Meghan gave Alicia a strained smile. "Excuse us for a minute," she said, then ushered Heather over into the living room for their sidebar. "We're not supposed to go anywhere," she reiterated.

"You're not supposed to go anywhere," Heather pointed out. "She never said anything about me."

"Well, I'm not letting you go anywhere on your own," Meghan snapped. "We're supposed to stick together."

"Then come with me," Heather stressed.

"Mum is getting ready to leave today," Meghan responded. "We can't do anything to screw that up. We need to stay at the house, and pack—"

"We already finished up everything Mum said," Heather cut her off. "We're just going to be hanging around the neighborhood, anyway." At Meghan's unflinching stare, she sighed and gave her a pleading look. "We're probably never going to see this place again, or these people," she said. "A couple hours won't hurt."

"Fine," Meghan finally acquiesced. "But right back here once we're done."

Heather smiled widely and gave her sister a quick side-hug before trouncing off to announce the news to Alicia.

"Great," the blue eyed girl said. "There's one stop we need to make first, though."

✖  ✖  ✖

Katie and Madison's initial dialogue was fraught — the blonde's anger had dulled into desperation over the course of the night, and she'd become stubbornly insistent that the best course of action was allowing Travis to plead their case. Eventually, Katie abandoned the effort and decided to help her through her morning chores before starting in on the argument again. She could see reason, she knew it. It was why Madison went to their house the previous night — deep down, she knew what was happening there wasn't right. She just needed a bit of time to sort herself out before they could start on a workable plan.

"I finished the dishes, did you want me to start on vacuuming in the—" Katie stalled as she entered the doorway to the room Alicia had been sharing with her mother. Madison was sat on the half-made bed, a pained look on her face as she read what looked like a crumpled letter.

"Madison?" She tried again.

"It's Susan's suicide note," the woman responded distantly. "My neighbor, the one the Guard shot the day they moved in." She stood, pointing to a framed child's drawing on the wall, of a young brunette girl with blue eyes and her 'Aunt Su-Su.' "This was Alicia's, she gave it to Susan when she was young. It's not supposed to be here."

"That's where Alicia's been spending all her time? At Susan's house?"

"Maybe," Madison said. "It's right next door, but the Guard locked it down. She could get in trouble going over there."

"You think she's there now?"

"I'm gonna find out," the woman said, determined as she made quick strides out of the bedroom past Katie. "You coming?"

Apparently, she was.

They made their way through the Clark's backyard, cutting over the fence into the Tran's maze of trellises and arbors. Wind chimes tinkled in the breeze as they passed, and Katie winced every time — almost as if they were signaling their location, and the Guard would swoop in any moment now to catch them in the act.

Entering through the kitchen door, Madison called out for her daughter. "Alicia? Alicia, are you in here?"

Thud.

They froze, turning to look at each other with worry. Whatever that was, it wasn't Alicia.

Making their way quietly to the kitchen, Madison pulled open the cutlery drawer and grabbed out a flashlight. As the light flickered, she smacked it against the edge of the drawer to get it working. "Come on, come on," she muttered, smacking it again.

Katie put her hand between the flashlight and drawer as Madison got ready to smack it again, mouthing an emphatic 'No.' Whoever — or whatever — was inside the house, Katie didn't want it to know they were there. She retrieved the flashlight from the other woman's grip, and instead smacked it against her own palm to get it working — a much quieter process.

At the sound of another thud from the basement, Madison slid out a decent sized knife from the wooden rack and led the way, Katie shining a light over her shoulder.

They quietly descended the stairs and glanced around, checking through the basement to determine where the noise came from. Just as Katie peeked over into the living area, they whipped around at the sound of more banging coming from the narrow hallway to their left.

Madison took the first steps down, followed by Katie, though her light soon sputtered and died.

Madison swore under her breath at the sudden darkness. "Shit."

Katie smacked the flashlight against her thigh to get it up and running again, pausing once she did to give Madison the okay to continue on.

Madison's hand reached the doorknob and gave a short jerk before she opened it inwards.

Katie blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim room, only lit through the sheer golden-rod curtains covering the basement windows, and a yellow torch set upon an end table. It was small, only made smaller by overstuffed furniture crowding what little floor space they had. Unfamiliar voices came in bursts of static from a radio she couldn't see. Katie froze in the doorway as more of the pieces came into place.

A man in a soldier's uniform, emblazoned with 'Adams', leaned away from the shadow looming over him before looking desperately at the two newcomers. He mumbled something Katie couldn't decipher around the duct tape gag on his mouth, struggling against the same tape that bound his arms and feet to the chair.

Then, a familiar voice. "Wai — wait, wait, wait," Ofelia spoke. Katie turned to the younger woman, startled. What was Ofelia doing, kidnapping this man? From what Meghan had mentioned, they were in a relationship.

The shadow looked over, and Katie recognized him as Daniel.

"What is this?" Madison questioned. "What the hell is this?" Without waiting for a response, she began to stride forward.

Ofelia turned to her father and hurriedly said, "She's got a knife."

Not hesitating, Daniel smoothly stalled the woman, grabbing her hand holding the knife to pull her to a stop. "Stop, stop, stop," he said.

"Answer me," Madison turned sharply to face him. "What is this?"

Daniel looked her in her eyes, voice low. "This is how we bring them home."

Once Madison had been calmed, she and Katie stood just behind Daniel, occasionally knocking into the broken wind chimes that had been hung up from the ceiling behind them. Ofelia crouched before their captive, having removed his gag so she could help him drink from a plastic water bottle as they looked on.

The soldier — Adams, Katie internally corrected — sought out Ofelia's gaze, his eyes locked onto her face. Ofelia kept her face dipped, her gaze lowered as she avoided his searching looks. He was hoping for an explanation she couldn't give.

There wasn't much you could say to make kidnapping your boyfriend okay.

She finished screwing the cap back onto the water bottle and scurried back to stand beside her father, barely sending him a glance as she did, her mouth screwed into a thin line and eyes fixed somewhere on the carpet in a guilt-ridden stare.

Adams finally spoke. "You're worried about your family, I get it, but this isn't necessary. They're gonna be fine, they'll be evaluated and treated. Th-That — that's all this is," as he stuttered out his plead, Ofelia looked to the three adults, as if seeking their take on his words. "You'll have them back."

"When?" Madison demanded.

"I don't know. Soon," Adams said, speaking only to Madison now. Daniel was still sat in front of him on the armchair, but had fallen into a quiet as the two debated back and forth. Katie took a moment to study him, his dark gaze unrelenting as it drilled into the soldier, studying his every shift in expression. Katie had the distinct idea that it didn't matter what Adams said now — this was all to satiate herself and Madison. Daniel would get his answers later, though she was unsure of exactly what he had planned. The vague idea she did have, however, sent chills up her spine, and a pang of pity for the soldier before her.

"It wasn't right, how it was handled," Adams finished.

"Handled?" Madison repeated. "You came into my home at night, you took my son, his wife."

"That wasn't me," Adams said lowly.

Ofelia's voice broke in, comforting and low. "It wasn't," she shook her head, brows creased in concern as she spoke to the adults, before turning and delivering her last sentence directly to Adams, the first interaction she'd had with him since they arrived. "He didn't have anything to do with it. We know it wasn't you." Adams looked up at her gratefully, and the disparity between Ofelia's earlier guilt and her actions now clicked in Katie's head. So that was how it was. Ofelia was playing Good Cop to everyone else's Bad Cop. If that was the case, she might as well play along.

"But he knew it was coming," Katie spoke up, locking her dark eyes with the young man, and gestured faintly to Ofelia. "You led her to believe that her parents would be taken care of, while you knew the truth, that her father wouldn't be allowed to go."

"They are being taken care of — she is, at least, I—" Adams fumbled for a moment, trying to come up with a decent excuse. He turned to Ofelia pleadingly, who was suddenly very busy searching the floor again, one hand coming up to cross across her chest, gripping her other arm. "I couldn't tell you, Ofelia, I'm sorry, I wanted to, just...I had orders."

"You might want to come up with a better excuse, son, because the Nuremberg defense won't save you," Katie said coolly.

At Adams's silence, Madison pounced again. "Where are they now?"

He seemed to be wracking his brain for a moment, struggling to think of a response that would satisfy her. "Look...I can help, I want to help you."

"Then answer the question."

He looked at them, lost. "I wish I could."

Ofelia spoke again firmly, though her voice seemed more fragile than before, almost breaking on the last word. "He doesn't know."

At this, Daniel's gaze finally flit up to meet Ofelia's, holding it until she looked down, shame-faced at his silent reprimand. She turned to leave the room, the door slamming after her, and a few moments later, the others followed.

Madison hadn't even reached the top of the stairs before she began to argue, already near-yelling by the time they made it to the kitchen. "This is not the way to—"

"Somebody had to do something!" Ofelia argued back, cutting her off as she finished ascending the top steps, entering the kitchen. Katie followed, taking her place to the side as the women argued, electing to remain quiet for now.

"Someone is!" Madison emphasized. Behind her, Daniel finished coming up the steps and stood silently in front of them. "Travis went to talk to them, he knows the lieutenant."

Ofelia was incredulous. "That's your plan? Go back to the people who took them, and, what, ask nicely?" she crossed her arms, quirking an eyebrow. "No," she said firmly, shaking her head. "We have a plan."

Madison pointed down the stairs. "You have a United States soldier strapped to a chair in a goddamn basement."

"Yes," Ofelia opened her arms slightly. "Now we have something to trade."

"Trade?" Now it was Madison who sounded incredulous, turning back to Daniel. "What do you expect—"

Daniel cut her off, as if he didn't want her to finish. Or, Katie reconsidered, as if he didn't want Ofelia to hear what she had to say. "We wait." He held up Adams' pilfered radio as example. "Once they find out he's missing, we call. We tell them where to go. We tell them where we're gonna meet to trade."

"And when they come looking?" Madison challenged, placing her hands on her hips.

"We're outnumbered and outgunned," Katie finally contributed. "Even if they do cooperate, who's to say they won't take you after the trade is complete?"

"I don't like this either, but..." Ofelia trailed off, wringing her hands together for a moment. Then, she spoke resolute, "my father's right." The young woman began to walk out, turning to the two women as she left, speaking quietly, almost attempting to explain herself. "It's the only thing they understand."

Daniel stopped her, speaking in Spanish for a moment. "Te quiero."

Ofelia nodded briefly. "Si."

Once she had left the house, Daniel turned to return to the basement.

Madison called after him, stopping him in his tracks. "This was your idea?"

He turned back to her. "Yes."

"It's absurd." Madison shook her head. "They're not gonna trade."

Daniel stepped forward, nodding as he lowered his voice to a near whisper, as if he was sharing a secret between just the three of them. "I know that. But that soldier has information. He knows the whereabouts of my wife. He knows where they have your boy. Security, how many soldiers there are with him," Daniel paused, delivering his next sentence with an air of gravity he hadn't before. "How much time we have left" Katie tensed, eyes wide as she focused on Daniel. "I've seen this before. People that go out on trucks never come back.

"That's not gonna happen here," Madison responded.

"It already happened here," Katie stated, giving Madison a pointed look. "It's happening now."

"They'll come back," Madison insisted. "Travis said he was going with Moyers to bring them back."

Katie let out a sigh at the woman's insistence and refusal to see reason, sharing a meaningful look with Daniel. He was silent for a minute, then turned to Katie, ignoring Madison. "Go home. Keep Ofelia there." He raised his finger, shaking it firmly. "Do not let her come back to this house."

"I'll look after her," Katie confirmed, and he gave an appreciative nod before beginning to go downstairs again.

As Katie turned to leave, Madison started after Daniel once more. "I don't want you to hurt him."

Daniel turned briefly to her. "Do you want your boy back?" Madison didn't reply. "So which is it? You don't want him hurt or you don't want to know?"

Madison was again silent, and Daniel took that as his answer, continuing downstairs and leaving them alone.

"You're okay with this?" Madison spoke up, tone veering on the edge of judgmental.

"I wouldn't say okay," Katie admitted. "But there's something going on they're not telling us, and between the soldiers and Daniel, I trust Daniel more."

Madison only stared, cold eyes not betraying her true feelings on the subject.

"I need to look after Ofelia," Katie said with finality. "Keep her occupied while Daniel...works. You should get some rest, you've been up all night."

"You have any idea what he's going to do to him?" Madison questioned, still standing at the edge of the stairs.

"No," Katie admitted, holding the kitchen door open. "I'd rather not stick around to find out." She held the door for Madison, giving her a questioning look, wondering if she intended to find out for herself exactly what Daniel had planned.

In the end, they left together and cut through the Clark's backyard, and pretended to ignore what they'd left behind.

✖  ✖  ✖

The girls were gone when the pair arrived at the Darcy's house — something Katie considered as much a curse as it was a blessing. It would have been helpful to have Meghan around to keep Ofelia occupied, but a larger part of her wanted them to have nothing to do with what was going on right now. She didn't want them to have to deal with the inevitable fallout. And, it seemed that wherever Meghan and Heather had wandered off, they were together (and probably with Alicia, if her disappearance was in any way connected).

Still, she had grounded Meghan, and she'd have to have a firm discussion with her later about disobeying.

"You alright?" she asked from behind the kitchen island, glancing over at Ofelia. The young woman sat at the counter, perched on the edge of her barstool, as if she was ready to take flight any moment, running back to her father and the soldier. The one thing she couldn't allow her to do. "Looks like you've got something weighing on your mind."

Her dark eyes flitted between Katie and the door. "I'm fine," she deflected.

Katie turned back, humming to herself for a moment as she got out some ingredients. "I don't have much decent food left, so I was thinking of making something. You want to help?"

"No thank you, I'm alright."

"You sure? Could make you feel better."

Ofelia steepled her hands together, and sighed.

Katie took the hint, and quietly got out the ingredients for the dough, closing the pantry cabinet behind her.

Ofelia watched with veiled interest for a minute as Katie began to fill up a mixing bowl with warm water, then added yeast and sugar and began to mix. By the time Katie had gotten out the dough ball and began to roll it, Ofelia could hold in her curiosity no longer.

She stood from her barstool and went to hover beside Katie in the kitchen. "What are you making?"

Katie smiled as she responded, "Pizza."

"Never thought I'd see one of those again," Ofelia said, eyeing the ingredients. Salsa, flour, olive oil, and sugar were strewn across the countertop haphazardly, along with a whisk and mixing bowl.

"They're not hard to make," Katie said simply. "I thought after last night, you could use some comfort food."

"I could," Ofelia assented, and gave the older woman a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you."

Katie paused in her chore and gestured to the dough, "You want to take a turn?"

"Sure," the young woman agreed, and began the task of rolling out the dough, with Katie's instruction. After a minute of this task, Ofelia paused in kneading the dough and let out a quiet laugh, her lips curving into a smile.

Katie looked at her curiously. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she shook her head, a trace of the smile still on her lips. "Just...I was remembering the times when Mama and I would make tamales together." Ofelia's eyes creased in fondness as she recalled the cherished memory. "She never let me stir the masa," she admitted. "She said I didn't understand the flow of it. Told me I worked against the masa, not with it."

"Mothers can be difficult that way," Katie said with a knowing smile. "Mine wouldn't even let me in the kitchen at all growing up — didn't want us kids getting in the way. Didn't learn how to cook on my own until I went to college."

Ofelia gave a soft smile at Katie's story, shaking her head lightly as she worked. "The worst part is, she was right. It always came out better when she stirred," she confessed, twisting at the dough. "She had me fold the banana leaves, though. I was good at that part."

Katie smiled at the story, and waited as Ofelia continued to roll the dough out into the circular shape that would make up the crust. As she did, she noticed the tension in the young woman's shoulders, and the stiff way she was going about her task. Her dark eyes were distant, a wrinkle between her eyebrows as she stared right through the kitchen counter — a million miles away. It was then Katie realized, she may have been able to prevent her from returning to the Tran's house in-person, but she couldn't stop the girl from endlessly turning it over and over like a lump of unformed dough in her own mind.

"You alright?" Katie finally asked, glancing over at Ofelia. "Looks like you've got something weighing on you."

Ofelia seemed ready to brush her off again, then stilled, brushing a dark strand of hair behind her ear before speaking openly. "They promised they would get her medicine, and they didn't. Then they promised Papa could go with her to the hospital, and instead they took Nick. Who's to say they didn't lie to us about treating her? What if they—"

"Hey," Katie interrupted, placing a hand on Ofelia's. "You can't go down that road. They may not have kept their promises about her medicine and your father, but there's no reason why they'd take her off-site if they weren't planning on treating her."

"If they were going to treat her, then why wouldn't they have taken Papa?" she questioned, eyes beginning to dew, shining at the corners as she struggled to hold back her fears.

"Lack of resources, for one," Katie pointed out. "Might not have enough supplies to handle family members on top of their patients."

"Then why would they take Nick?" Ofelia questioned.

"He's a flight risk," Katie brushed off the question. "Having a barely-clean addict around isn't exactly good for morale, and they're trying to avoid panic." She squeezed Ofelia's hand, met her eyes, and said firmly, "You'll see her again, Ofelia."

Ofelia let out a shaky breath. "Yeah," she said, sniffing once. "You're probably right."

"I am right," Katie confirmed. "And your father will prove it. Once he's finished making the trade, we'll get Nick, Liza, and your mom back, safe and sound."

Ofelia nodded, and glanced back down at her work, giving a quiet laugh. "You were right," a smile tugged at the corners of her cheeks as she looked back to Katie. "This is making me feel better."

Katie smiled kindly. "I'm glad."

✖  ✖  ✖

Not much action in this chapter unfortunately, I promise there will be plenty in the next few!