Riaaa

Thunder crashed within the midnight sky, rain caressing the the freshly cut lawn as the scent of petrichor permeated the air. Maria leaned against the porch banister, shoulder against wood with her fingertips tucked neatly into the pockets of her jeans. It had been months since Jackson, Wyoming received any rain - and honestly, it gave the town a much needed cool breeze. In a sense, it felt as if the rain was cleansing the settlement from every God-awful misfortune that came their way. Inhaling slowly, Maria's left hand clutched onto the gold necklace that dangled within her pocket like a broken bough. Subconsciously, she found herself drifting off into thoughts about her husband. Her heart betraying her as her mind told her be stronger - but being strong almost felt impossible. Granted Maria had always been a woman of resilience, there were still some things that irresolute just like anyone else.

Oceanic hues scanned the distance as lightning flashed across the sky. Electrical discharge stroking only on a short duration before Maria retracted her hands from her pockets. Droplets of rain spritzed her face, causing it to glisten like a clump of stars. She looked down at her feet,  a groan escape her pink lips. She couldn't come to terms with what was happening in her life currently; but most of all, she couldn't come to terms with a failing marriage. For years Maria watched on as her mother and father set a prime example of what a marriage should be like. Constant support for one another, communication that didn't exempt the other's feelings and teamwork. She idolized them and promised herself that she'd have a marriage like that one day or she'd accept nothing at all.

"You're gonna' catch a cold standing out here in the rain like that." A voice spoke out near the porch steps. Soft, but with a southern charm. One foot at a time, the male marched his way up the steps with a coat in hand. Maria's eyes glancing over only to catch a glimpse of Tommy swooping in to cover her shoulders with his own outer garment. Shaking her head slowly, Maria pushed his jacket away and folded her arms across her chest. Although she turned her body to face him, she refused to give him the decency of looking him in the eyes.

"I'll be fine. Catching a cold is the least of my worries." She said.

"Maria...I -"

"What can I help you with, Tommy." She cut him off before he could completely say what he desired to say.

He took a deep breath, taking a step closer to his wife as she'd take a step back in return. "I just wanted to stop by and see how you were holdin' up. You're still my wife."

"Barely." She said.

His eyes widened, fingers lightly clutching onto her arm, pulling her closer to him. "What the hell does that mean, Maria?" He asked. Her words were a slap to the face to him, singing him to the core. Was this her way of saying that she was giving up on them altogether?  Unconditional suddenly felt conditional to him, but he was not giving up without a fight.

"I know that my actions haven't always been wise, but I love you and you sure as shit know that. Now whatever I need to do to fix this, I will...but don't you give up on us."


Maria scoffed, jerking her arm away from him before wagging her finger in his face with the ferocity of a lioness. "You don't -" She lowered her voice, glancing around to make sure that no one was around to listen. "You don't get the right to tell me what I can't do when you clearly gave no shits about what I didn't want you to do."


"I'm sorry..." Tommy whispered.

"Well sorry isn't good enough. Do you know how sick with worry I was when you left me? Day in and day out, not one word from you. I didn't know of you had died." Maria lowered her hand to her stomach, feeling a bit nauseous from the thought of never being able to see the stubborn ass that stood before her again. "When my mother passed away, I couldn't help but notice how my father lost every bit of who he was in a sense. For the longest time he couldn't eat and he couldn't sleep. He cried for her every night and I'm damn well sure that he still does. That would be me if I ever lost you."  She planted her hands flat against his chest, shoving him away from her. For many  years it had only been her and her father running the settlement in Jackson; and then she met Tommy. Everything changed for her that day. He saved her and she couldn't stop herself from falling in love with that southern hospitality that he showed.


"Darlin', I'm -"

"Maria! Tommy!" A voice called out, interrupting Tommy in the middle of what would have been a heartfelt apology on his end. Frantic feet splashed within the puddles on the ground, panting line a run - down hare. It was Abigail. She was in charge of the produce stockpile in which Maria made it her duty to to keep an eye out on who took what and how much was taken in a day. Her eyes were heavy and her hands rested at her side as she came to a halt.

"There's two people at the front gate! A woman and a child. They are both hurt and Steven thinks that the child might infected!"

______________________________
A few moments later.

What it came to children, Maria took protecting them seriously. The innocence of children was something that should not be corroded with the pain of the situation that plagued the world in this day and age. Holding her hunting rifle close to her chest, Maria walked up to the gates with Tommy hobbling behind right on her tail. She took a moment to look over the situation - surveying the child and the woman who now lay lifeless on the ground. The child sat covered up in a blanket, crying whilst he looked on at what appeared to be his mother.

"What happened to her?" Maria asked. She looked around at the people of her community, glaring until someone decided to talk. "We're not sure. She came up to the gate already bleeding and then she just...passed out." Steven spoke, pointing his gun at the child whom was already in hysterics.

"Lower your gun, Steven." Maria said. In only a few quick strides, she made her way to the young boy, picking him up to hold in her arms. His cheeks were covered in mud, but she could see a combination of blood and tears pooling around his cheeks.

"But, Maria..."

"I said to lower your goddamn gun and that's an order."

Maria's eyes met with Steven on order to make sure that he lowered his weapon when she demanded him to. Once it was lowered, her gaze returned to the child whom was now resting his head upon her shoulder. Running her fingers through his brunette locks of hair, she walked him into the entrance of the settlement, Tommy's eyes never leaving his wife.


"Hey there, sunshine. Is that your mother?"

The young boy only nodded his head.

"Do you know what happened to her?"

"A bad man tried to take our stuff and then he shot mommy." The boy sniffled, wrapping his arms around Maria's slender neck. "Don't worry." She whispered, rubbing his cheek with the pads of her fingers. "You're safe now."


Pulling away from the child briefly, Maria began to lower him until he was now standing on his own two feet. She greeted him with a tender smile, fingers brushing the stray strands of hair from his face. "Tommy, take him to get washed up. Abigail, you get him some new clothes to wear and Steven -" Maria glanced up to catch a glimpse of Steven who was still surveying the boy with precision. "Steven, you go and tell Seth to prepare something special for him. Make sure that it isn't his not so famous steak sandwiches." She turned up her nose.

"He has a wound on his arm." Steven spoke. "He has a fucking open wound on his arm!" The armed man began to scream, growing hostile with each rising octave. Without receiving the approval from Maria, Steven leveled his weapon so that it was aimed the child's head with accurate. His finger rested against the trigger, Maria blinking as she ran towards the young boy.

BANG!

A gunfire blast generated around them. It was loud and sharp, earth shattering to say the least. Maria stopped dead in her tracks her body numb and her world motionless in that moment. She was too late. Watching as the young boy slumped to the ground and his brain matter painted her shirt like artwork by Henry Fuseli, she gasped. Glancing down at his arm, she noticed the blood, but it was no bite. It was no wound, perhaps the blood of his mother.

"You killed a child!"

"He was bitten, Maria. I was trying to protect is all!" Steven shouted back at her, but that only added fuel to the flames. Lifting her hunter rifle, Maria pointed it at Steven's throat, her eyes narrowing as she glared at him like a lion in a trap. "It wasn't a wound, you asshole. It was his mother's blood!"

"I -"

"BANG!!"

Steven's hand traveled to his throat, blood cascading out of the puncture like the violent rush of a ravine. He tried to speak, but a crimson tide outpoured from parted lips, staining them in ichor delight.  Letting the gun fall from her hands, Maria marched over to the young boy - leaning in to pick his lifeless body up from the ground. She felt ashamed of what had happened to him; and although she did not pull the trigger, she felt the guilt.

"Get his body out of here, now. Feed him to the wolves if you must."