Jessica strapped her holster around her waist, buckling it onto her wide hips. She holstered a handheld railgun that was her fathers. It was loaded, the safety still on, she knew. She’d shot it once or twice with her father in the past, and now she wished she still had the time to get used to it with her dad.

There was no time now, because her dad was dead.

The door of her fathers room creaked open, she knew her kid brother or sister stood there, and she glanced behind her. It was the youngest one, the brother, who was seven years old—Well, by now he’s technically eight, Jessica thought.

“Don’t go!” Her brother pleaded, “We can just live out our lives, together…”

Jessica didn’t turn to her brother. She didn’t say anything, but took a box of .33 bullets from the gun safe in front of her, grabbing the two spare battery clips off the charger, and started loading them with bullets.

She didn’t have any more words to tell them, her brother and sister. I’ve already said everything there is to say, taught them everything they need to know…

Her brother grabbed onto her waist, hugging her.

“Brand, I have to go. Let go of me, now.”

The coldness in her voice, her demeanor, scared Brandon, but he gripped tighter. “We can live out our last days together, and you won’t have to die out in the redwoods!”

“I’m not gonna die, I’m saving our family!” She spun and pushed him off of herself, flames in her eyes… anger twisting her face. Brand fell to the floor. “Does that mean nothing to you, your life, your sister's life?” Her blood boiled, her emotions spilling over every side.

When she saw her brother start to cry, his face messed up, a touch of sympathy returned to her. Just enough that she knelt down and spread out her arms. Brand half ran into her and they embraced.

“You scare me, Jessica.”

“I scare myself sometimes,” she patted his back. “Tell me what it means now that I’m leaving.”

Brand sobbed, saying through tears, “Now that Dad’s gone, I’m the man of the house…” He gritted his teeth, “I’m the man of the house, and I gotta be strong!”

“Exactly. Be strong, Brand. Protect your sister, even though she’s older than you. Protect her with your life.”

“I love you, Jessica.”

She pushed him away, she saw his tears and clenched jaw, his balled fists. “I love you too, Brand.” She leaned in and swept his long hair to the side, kissing his forehead.

He began to sob all over again, collapsed on the ground, pounding the floor, kicking his legs, screaming and crying. Hollow screams of grief that sent a shiver down Jessica’s spine.

She stood up. She walked to her father’s closet and looked for something—she didn’t know what—as she ignored the screams in the background. Filing through the clothes on hangers, something caught her eye. Taking it out and off the hook, she held it up in the light.

It was a tan colored duster, made of canvas. She put it on top of her blue long sleeve and checked the inside. Pockets, four of them on either side, perfect fits for battery clips. She stashed them on either side.

It was a perfect fit, loose but not too much so, going down to just above the knees. The slit in the back was the perfect length for her, for riding a horse. She looked down at her chest, the looseness hides my breasts, she realized. She had an idea.

She went back to the closet and grabbed two boxes of .33 ammo, walked out of the room into the hallway, then looked to her left. Her sister had a chair leaning against the front door, under the doorknob, said sister standing in front of it.

“I need you to do me a favor, Tiffany” Jessica said.

“Only if you agree to stay,” Tiffany said, crossing her arms..

Jessica shrugged, putting the boxes of bullets in her saddlebag. She walked back down the hallway to the back room, the bathroom, and turned on the light, locking the door behind her. She opened the cabinet beneath the sink and searched until she found what she was looking for.

A black case. She unlocked the clasps on it and took out shears, plugging it into the outlet, and pressing the button to engage the familiar buzzing. I’ve always been the one to cut hair, anyways, she thought.

She put her long, light green hair up in a ponytail at the back of her head cut it near the base of the hair tie. She threw the hair in the trash and looked in the mirror. She always had a somewhat masculine face because of her round and strong jawline, but like this she might be able to pass as a man.

Maybe. Sharp people would notice her cheekbones and dimples were feminine, and if she ever took off the duster her modest chest and hourglass figure would be a dead giveaway. I’ll have to buy clothes to help hide it, ASAP, she thought.

Not that I need to fool everyone, if she could only hide her gender from the majority of people passing by the impromptu ‘disguise’ would be a success.

She put the shears away, closing the case. She swung the door open and walked down the hallway to her room.

Being a female was hard enough in her day and age, and traveling as one could make you a needless target. Especially where Jessica was going, a battle zone of general lawlessness with monsters, bandits, necromancers, and a Blight Lord. Lest we forget the mist harvesters who can also be dangerous, or at least are dangerously armed.

Jessica went to her drawer and took out a blade in a beautiful sheath, something between a dagger and short sword. It was once a birthday gift, something to train with, and now it was going to be a killer weapon.

Her killer weapon.

Indeed, by the end of all this, she would have blood on her hands, she knew this to be the only thing that was true about the journey she was to go on.

On her holster was a place for a blade. She put it in its place, on her left hip. Jessica was ambidextrous, the railgun was on her right hip and she could use it just as well with her left or right hand. This is how she’d trained.

Dad never imagined I’d be using this holster he bought me for this reason… She felt righteous anger boil up again, and tried to push it away. She still had to deal with her sister. Her sister had a way with words, to push exactly the right button.

She found her way to the front room, grabbing her saddle bags filled with everything she’d need. She marched to the front door where her sister was waiting. There was a cabinet in front of the door now, as well as the chair, her 13 year old sister patiently waiting.

“So you got a haircut,” Tiffany said. “It doesn’t change anything, I’m not letting you through here—forget about it.”

Jessica clenched her teeth, “How could I possibly forget about it?”

“Revenge… Jessica, you’ll only get yourself killed out there! You’re mental, it’s just your bipolar acting up, but think a—”

“You’re the mental one! I’m doing this for your sake, I’m saving this family, I’m giving you a chance to live longer than two years!” Jessica approached her sister, fury in her eyes, her face distorted in chagrin, Tiffany looked away. “You dare to stand in my way? Huh!”

Jessica grabbed her sister by her hair. Tiffany had never gotten the mutations her older sister had. She forced her to meet her eyes, and Tiffany whimpered.

“I don’t understand you,” Jessica began in a low voice, “I’m doing this for you!” She screamed at her sister, forcing her to meet her eyes. “You’re the one that should be mad, those fucking ents cursed the whole family, you…”

Tiffany became dead weight, her legs no longer able to hold her, and Jessica let her drop to the ground. “You’ve lost it, Jessica!” She said through sobs, “Go and get yourself killed!”

“I’m doing this because I love you,” Jessica picked up the cabinet and threw it out of the way. “You fucking bitch, you’re always like this!”

Through tears, Tiffany yelled back, “At least I’m not a manipulative piece of shit, like you!”

Jessica picked up the chair and threw it with all her strength at the wall, the sound of it breaking into pieces deafening. She walked out the door, leaving it open, and headed to the stables.

She looked down at her wrist, at her fathers military watch. It was noon. She entered the stables, feeling her anger subside somewhat, and opened the door to her horses spot, leading the mare out.

“You’re really leaving…” It was her neighbor's voice, she knew, his name Gerard. She turned to meet the man, a dark haired and handsome man.

“Don’t give me shit right now,” Jessica said as she put the saddlebags on her horse. “I’m not in the mood.”

“I’ve been out here all day, waiting.”

Jessica had told him not to come over on this day. “We’ve already said goodbye to each other, what more is there to say?”

“It doesn’t feel right. I take it that saying goodbye to your siblings didn’t go well?”

“No, it didn’t fucking go well… Are you going to try and stop me, too?”

“Nope, I came here for a kiss. My kisses are good luck, so you’ll need it.”

She smiled at that, shaking her head.

“I need you to know something,” he said, approaching her with his strong arms wide open, embracing her.

She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body and gentle arms around her. She savored the feeling, knowing what he was going to say.

“I’ve always loved you,” he said just above a whisper, with his chin over her shoulder. He gripped her tight.

She wanted to say a lot of things. She wanted to say “I know, I’ve always known.”

She settled on saying, “I hope you find someone that’s better than me.”

And he laughed, pushing back and kissing her lightly on the lips. “Nobodies better than you always are, Jessica.”

She felt a tear come to her eye. She turned around back to her horse and got onto the saddle, putting her foot in the stirrups.

“Good luck, wherever you go, Jess,” Gerard waved to her.

“Likewise, Gerard…” I wish I could say I love you, too. “Good luck to you, I may never see you again.”

She urged the horse into a trot and passed by the front of her house. She saw her siblings on the front porch, waving and yelling, “We love you, Jessica!”

More tears came to her eyes at the sight of them and she waved back. Galloping away, she knew this is the last she’ll see of this place and those faces.