road as the full weight of his body overwhelmed me. Still, I did everything I could prevent any further insult to his body. It took some effort, but I was able to climb out from under him and dragged his body to the side of the road. It was a shitty thing to do, leaving him beside the road like that, but there was no time for anything else. I looked up into the sky and saw the twinkling of the stars above and cursed the heavens for not letting Mack live and for letting the zombies kill so many people. There was no response so I sulked back to truck.
When I climbed back up to look into through the open driver’s door, I saw Joni, wiping away her tears. She looked to me and asked, “What about Bill?”
“Push him out the door,” I said.
“I can’t do that,” she said.
“He killed Mack.”
“I know, but he was still upset about Eric.”
“It doesn’t matter. He still killed Mack.”
I leapt off the truck and stormed around the front of the truck and ripped the passenger side door open. Bill’s body fell out the door unceremoniously and I did nothing to stop its fall. It thudded against the ground, bringing up a small cloud of dust. In my anger, I pulled back a foot, preparing to kick him, but caught a movement out of the corner of my eye.
A dark figure came down the side of the truck, holding on to it for balance. I reached for my gun, but when the figure came out of the shadows and I saw that it was Carla, Bill’s daughter.
“Daddy,” she said and ran and fell by his side.
Any anger I had experienced quickly dissolved and if I could have felt any worse, I didn’t know how.
Joni climbed from the cab and knelt down by the girl, putting a comforting arm around her. Carla rocked back and forth over the body of her father. I wanted to turn away, but didn’t feel like I deserved the right since I had just killed him and watched the scene as my heart sank.
“Carla,” Joni said, “I’m so, so sorry. Your father…he was troubled. He couldn’t get over losing Eric.”
“I know, I know,” Carla said, her voice thick with emotion.
“Grant had to do something,” Joni said. “Your father shot Mack.”
“I know. He never forgave Grant.” The girl looked up to me. “I know you did everything you could to save Eric, but he couldn’t see it.”
She was trying to get me off the hook, but I just couldn’t seem to let go.
“Carla!” A voice came from the direction of the back of the truck.
I looked back and saw Freda coming towards us. Her face was locked in a grimace so fierce that it hurt me to look at it.
“Get away from that man,” she said staring directly at me. “Getting Eric killed wasn’t enough? You had to kill Bill, too?”
“Mom, Dad shot Mack,” Carla said.
“Why are you defending him?” Freda screamed. Hate can be that way, blinding people, but I knew I would probably hate the person who shot and killed my spouse, too. The reality was that Bill and Freda’s hate started when soldiers had gunned down their son after he proved to be infected. Why they blamed me, no one could tell, but grief had driven them out of their minds. I had just become the outlet for it and the grief had turned itself inside out and turned to hate.
Something moved off in the brush behind Freda and I brought up my gun to track it.
“Don’t shoot my mom,” Carla said jumping to her feet.
The shadow came into the dim light and turned out to be a zombie shambling out of the bush. I tracked it for another second and shot it dead, as Freda cowered.
“You see what I’m saying?” Freda bellowed. “He’s crazy and wants to kill us all.”
“It was a zombie,” I said.
Freda and Carla both looked and saw a female zombie in a blood stained white dress lying on the side of the road. All our commotion brought Sammy and several others out of the back of the truck. They cautiously moved toward us, unsure what was going on.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Freda said. “You’re still a dangerous man.”
“There’s no