the mission
Abby
She had him right there, a sitting duck, and she fucking missed.
After Joel and his group managed to slip away from Abby’s, she decided against going after them. Abby figures at least someone will be coming after her, so she’ll let them do all the work of chasing after her.
Her sourness and dissatisfaction were palpable and the group stayed silent to avoid being the sufferer of Abby’s anger.
“We heading back to Seattle?” Owen asks after a while, and Abby merely nods in response. Abby knows of Owen’s disapproval of Abby’s mission, and for all she knew, he was relieved they were stopping. Owen kicks his horse and trots up to Abby so they’re side by side. She knew he was looking at her, so she snaps her head to him.
“What?” she snaps. Owen clenches his jaw and meets her fiery gaze.
“Maybe it’s for the better that we didn’t…” Owen trails off, looking away, and Abby scowls.
“It just proves that I’m a failure,” Abby retorts, shaking her head. “I couldn’t finish the job.”
After tying up their horses, the group finds their lodge and packs their belongings. Abby debates on just going off on her own to infiltrate Jackson and finish Joel once and for all, but she knew the odds were stacked against her. She enters the lodge, staring at the dilapidated furniture and makeshift shelter. Backpacks lined against the wall, mattresses were strewn about with empty cans of food thrown along the floor. Abby walks over to her sleeping bag, rolls it up, and ties it to her backpack. She wordlessly finishes and exits the lodge, mounting her horse. She waits for the rest to exit the lodge before they begin the journey back home.
The first week passed, with hunger plaguing her group and unrelenting spring rains. Abby kept her cool demeanor, staying on high alert in case anyone tried to come after them. But it went without a hitch and Abby's spirits were slowly being lifted.
One night, while camping in a thick forest, Abby and Owen were the only two up, sitting by the fire to keep themselves warm. To their surprise, the wood lit well, and they sat in silence for a while. Abby was zoning out when Owen cleared his throat. Here we go.
“So, Mel is pregnant.”
Abby’s head whipped up, shocked, a million things running through her mind.
“What?” she asks. Owen looks up at her, slightly uneasy, and nods. Abby scowls. “Wha...Why? Do you ever think?”
Owen’s eyes dart around and Abby scoffs. “No. You don’t.”
“I don’t think this is what you want, Abby,” Owen says cautiously and Abby was already shaking her head, anger flaring up.
“You don’t get to tell me what you ‘think’ I want,” Abby says, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You’re just weak. You can’t handle this–-”
“Can you hear yourself?” Owen asks, standing up over Abby. “You sound insane.” His eyes slightly soften. “You’re losing yourself.”
Abby rolls her eyes, a snarl on her face.
“It’s called justice–-”
“It’s called mania,” Owen interjects. “You’re being blinded. Just cool off.”
“No, Owen,” Abby says, standing up to meet his gaze. She was debating on just smacking him right then and there. “If you disagree with me so much, then. Leave.” She nearly spits the last part out, and Owen steps back, looking at Abby with something like disgust. He shakes his head.
“I’m going to miss you, Abby,” he whispers, before walking away into the woods.
The next morning, it was discovered that Owen had indeed left the group with three others, knocking the group of ten down to six. Abby didn't care. They'll see each other later and then they'll repeat their argument all over again. That's just the way it was. The rest of the travel was easy–-maybe even easier without Owen and his gaggle of friends. They were traveling quickly and steadily, much to Abby’s delight, and were nearing Seattle on their second week. The faster they got to Seattle, the faster Abby can prepare for whatever is to come next.
Abby spent a lot of thought mulling over Owen’s words. She has reassured herself constantly over the past years that this was what she should do. It was only fair; Joel took her dad’s life, so she takes his. She kept replaying the moment he said his name, the fire, the miss.
Next time, she won’t miss.