Chapter 38

I hit the ground hard. Shaking my head, I grab the subs and slip them into my belt.

"Claire, are you okay?" I ask.

She's sitting up. Her foot is caught under part of the wooden catwalk. She tugs at it, trying to pull free.

She looks at me. Her eyes widen. "Steve, behind you!"

I rip out the guns and spin. I'm aiming at Dad. But he isn't Dad anymore. He's infected. A gray-skinned, half-rotted zombie in a dirty prisoner uniform. A monster. Like every monster here, he deserves it: infection, suffering, death. For what happened to me and Mom, he deserves it all.

But I can't pull the triggers. My fingers won't move.

He lumbers toward me, his eyes blank and unseeing, his mouth foaming and teeth bared. I step backward until I'm against the wall.

"Shoot it, Steve!" Claire yells.

"I...I can't!"

He turns to Claire. Sinking to the ground, he crawls toward her. He stretches out a decayed hand. She screams.

I fire. The bullets knock him flat on the ground. He jerks and jumps with each shot like bacon on a hot skillet.

The subs click dry. Silence fills the room. He lies motionless - dead, just like the other monsters I killed. The monsters that were people. But he isn't just another monster.

"Dad," I whisper.

My throat burns. My vision blurs. The submachine guns fall, and I sink to my knees. Tears roll down my cheeks.

I was wrong. I am weak.

But I don't care.

I sob hard into one clenched fist. The debris collapses. I look up. Claire is walking to me. Pushing aside one sub, she sits beside me. I want to tell her to piss off, that I just want to be alone. But I don't. Instead, I wrap my arms around my knees and stare at the monster, at the dead person that was Dad.

I suck back snot. Swallow. Rub my nose, my cheeks, my eyes.

"Dad used to work for Umbrella," I say. "Tried to steal information, intending to sell it off to the highest bidder. He was caught. Mom was killed. And we were sent here."

"Oh, Steve."

"He was a fool to do something so reckless. So stupid."

Claire stands and pulls an old, folded-up sheet of burlap from some stacked supplies. She shakes it out and drapes it over Dad. Then she straightens the edges and corners so they lie flat.

She touches my shoulder. "It's okay now. Just rest."

Nodding, I bury my face in my knees. Her footsteps go to the door. It opens and closes. The room goes silent again.

So many things war inside me. Anger. Sadness. Loss. Guilt.

The only good thing I have is the knowledge that I saved Claire. She's so kind and selfless. So unlike most people, including me -