The Risks

July: Chapter 61

"Apparently you didn't put enough time and effort into it, because it didn't work out exactly like you'd planned. Did it?"

He shrugged indifferently. "For a time I thought the cannibalistic creatures were a curse. I'd only made enough vaccines to inoculate my people, thinking I would only have to protect them from the airborne virus. I didn't have any extra, to save them if they were to be bit. But then I had the idea to bring in recruits –regular, ordinary, naturally immune survivors. It wasn't what I wanted, but they were expendable, and my people were able to stay safe inside the Zone while the recruits risked their lives in the field."

In the field. What a nice way of describing how he sent people out to annihilate anyone they came across.

He really was sick. Twisted.

He groaned suddenly, leaning his head back, exhausted. My eyes dropped to his shoulder, and I saw that the wound was turning dark, the first hints of black veins creeping out from beneath torn flesh.

Maybe we didn't have as long as I thought.

"Why did you leave Oakley with me?"

For it being one of my most important and pressing questions, I was surprised how difficult it was to voice it. I'd accepted her death, put her to rest in my mind, but being here with the man who doomed her for death made it all feel so fresh.

He didn't answer, his head still lolled back, so I kicked his bad leg with my toe. He inhaled sharply though his teeth, vexed and tired eyes meeting mine.

Then he sighed, his body going somewhat slack in the chair again. "There wasn't enough time."

"Bullshit," I spat. "You had things all planned out. You had time."

"Claire, don't pretend to have even the slightest inkling of the measures I had to take to make this work. You're clueless. Ignorant."

"Why did you leave her with me?" I repeated, my voice shaking softly. "If you wanted her back so badly, why did you make her my responsibility?"

Something crossed his face then, something I'd never seen on him before. He looked almost... guilty.

"Molly wanted another child," he said, keeping his eyes on the floor, on the puddle of black blood seeping from the dead Feral's body. "I'd never been particularly interested in bringing another life into this world. It seemed... counterproductive to my plans. But I wanted to make her happy. I should have told her no. If I did, she'd still be here." He paused, lifting his head and I watched a bead of sweat roll down his hairline and drip from his jaw. "Oakley was my flesh and blood. I wanted to raise her right so that she'd follow in my footsteps one day. I wanted her to eventually take over my position at the Zone, but I hadn't had the time to raise her. You did. And she picked up so much from you, spent so much time with you. It didn't take me long to see that she was going to be just like you."

Pride warmed my chest. I'd been so afraid that she was going to turn out like George, that his toxic traits would be passed down to her and that I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. But I'd been wrong.

I hadn't been a perfect guardian, but I'd done a good job.

"If she was so much like me, then why did you even want her back?" I asked, trying to understand his logic.

"Because I thought I could change it," he said, his hands flexing, the leather restraints creaking softly. "I thought there was enough time to change it, to mold her into the person I envisioned her to be."

"Then why didn't you take her with you in the first place?" I asked again, succinctly. He was beating around the bush, avoiding the question, and I'd had enough. "Answer the question."