F*** Cancer, This One Did Us All In.

39. Sorry, this is the actual end

  "Dad." I said, but he was already running at me, grabbing my arm and running.

  "What the hell, Theodore?" He growled and he sounded angry. "What the actual hell?" Wrong. Not angry. Furious. Filled with godly wrath.

  "Dad." Was all I could say, after all, I was still covered in her blood, my sister's blood, Johanne's blood was covered all over me. Oh god. Oh god.

  "What the hell are you thinking?" My dad asked as he pulled me against a tree, the two of us hiding there. My mind was racing, noise so loud I could hardly hear what was going on outside.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Where's Michelle?" He grabbed me, looked at me, and the look he gave me should have terrified me but - he killed Johanne.

  "You killed Johanne." I said.

  His face fell and I saw something inside him snap, could feel it break.

  "Where is Michelle?" He asked me again.

  "I told her to run." I said. "She's running."

  "We have to find her." He grabbed me, Johanne's killer grabbed me, and pulled me forward and I followed, because why not? After all, he was Johanne's killer - I mean, my dad. My dad. Don't forget. He didn't want to kill her. Obviously he didn't want to kill her. He had to do it because -

  You couldn't.

  No. I don't want to argue with you.

  Because I'm right? You couldn't kill her, so you forced that man to kill his own daughter.

  I couldn't. I just couldn't.

  So, what? It's better to let him kill his daughter, than for you to kill your sister?

  I didn't know . . .

  You saw how he looked. He snapped. Something in him broke. You let that something break.

  I just wanted to protect - but I couldn't. I couldn't kill. Even though I had done it before, it wasn't any easier the second time around. In fact, it was even harder. How? Why?

  "What happened?" I asked my dad as we took a break behind another tree.

  He poked around, made sure we were alone, and said, "Theodore, I don't think now's the time."

  I simply nodded, decided to listen to Johanne's killer. After all, he knew best. He knew -

  I was crying. Jesus, I was crying. Why was I crying? Was it because Johanne was dead? Or maybe because you should have killed her, instead of making your dad do it?

  "Come on." He said, pulling me along, the hunting rifle in one hand. I could see he had a Colt 45 hooked onto his belt. Nice gun, dad.

  How many Flesh-eaters had he killed with that gun? With his own hands? He said, every time he killed, he died just a little. I saw that. In his eyes. That snap in him, as a piece of himself died. Oh god, I caused that. Because I was weak, he was dying. Maybe not physically, but sure as hell mentally. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill because -

  You're a coward.

  Yes. I was afraid of that. Maybe not killing them. Maybe I was never afraid of killing them. Maybe I was always afraid of killing myself.

  But if you want Michelle to live, if you want your dad to live -

  Then I would have to kill myself. Over and over and over again. I would have to kill myself, so they would never die.