Broken Dreams(20)

“Be ready, love. There are more coming.” He knelt down and looked around the bumper. “Elaina, stand above me for a sec. Claire, cover us and make sure there aren’t any coming up from behind. If you see an undead, shoot to kill. Remember, aim toward their head. I know you can do this.”

Claire shook to the core, but nodded. As much as she didn’t want to do it, she knew it was something that had to be done. With hesitation, she turned around and covered us.

“Alright, Elaina. I’m going to go out into the street and walk toward them.”

“No, you are not!” I couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing.

“We can’t hide behind here and wait for them to come to us. We’ll get overrun. We have to go to them. They aren’t as fast as us. We can take them out before they get too close.”

“No.” I stood in protest. My heart was saying no, as well. I was having so many mixed emotions about Henry that I didn’t know which one to go with.

“Please, trust me. I know what I am doing.” He stood up and walked out into the middle of the street before I could grab him.

Damn it, I thought to myself.

I followed obediently and covered him. Claire looked over at us and took a few steps to her left, toward the middle of the street.

“Ready?” Henry asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be to kill my own family and friends.”

“They’re already dead. You’re just helping the process along and ending their suffering.”

I raised my gun again and held it with both hands. The cool steel chilled me to the bone, knowing what I was about to do. I aimed at the next one coming, my friend Brian. I closed my eyes for a moment and pulled the trigger. I heard Brian drop to the ground. I let out a strangled whimper and lowered the gun to my side.

“It’s okay, Elaina. You did what was best.” The undeads staggered closer. “Fire at will, love.” We both raised our guns. I squinted my eyes, instead of closing them. Tears ran down my cheeks.

Next were my cousins, Trish and Julian. Then Henry’s host mother, Margaret, and then my Uncle Tim…my favorite. Then I saw him.

My father.

“No. No. No, no, no!” Henry looked over at me as he aimed his gun. “No, Henry, don’t…please don’t!” I wanted to rush to my father’s aide.

“Elaina, it’s not him. We have to do this.” Henry still had him in his sights.

Memories of my father ran rampant through my head. Playing at the park, reading my favorite books, kicking a soccer ball around in our yard, the way he looked at me as I prepared myself to walk down the aisle. The way he looked at me with fear when he saw what was happening in the church. I shuddered. I knew what I had to do.

“No,” I paused. “I will do it. I want to be there for him, like he has always been there for me.” Henry nodded and took my waist, keeping me stable.

I brought the gun up, held on with both hands, and put a bullet in my undead father’s head. It was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life.

Before I could process what I had just done, I heard Claire’s blood-curdling scream come from behind. Henry and I turned around. Marc was about twenty feet away, heading right for her. He was missing part of his arm and was dragging one of his legs.

“Shoot, Claire! Shoot!” Henry yelled. I turned back around to cover us. There were a couple more undeads coming at us. I unloaded my gun at them, blocking out who they were. I heard a gunshot behind me. I turned around and I saw Claire on her knees, holding her gun, sobbing.

“Claire...Claire!” I went to her and held her. She was crying so hard. She struggled to get away from me and I couldn’t hold her. She broke free and ran to Marc. Henry tried to grab her, but she was already too far. Marc was true dead, lying in an awkward position on the street. Half of the top of his head was in bits all around him.

“Claire! Don’t touch him! Claire! Stop!” He ran to her and caught her. Henry wrapped his arms around her and she dropped her gun.

She struggled against him, but it was no use. Henry was far too strong for her to continue to fight him.

“Claire, I don’t want you to touch him.” She gave up and collapsed against his chest. He held her close while she sobbed. “Come on, love. We have to move forward.”

Claire started to choke out words. “No! No, no! I have to go to him!”

“I can’t let you do that.” Henry held her face in his hands. “I know what he meant to you. You loved him and he loved you.” He looked over at me, hoping I would acknowledge that he was talking about us, as well. “I know this is hard, Claire, but we have to move forward.”