Chapter 29
I cannot believe Robbie did that to Summer. Just the thought of it makes my blood boil. I don't care if he was drunk out of his mind, or his wife died. There's no excuses. I should have killed him when I had the gun to his face.
Summer already has enough shit going on. Why the hell does she deserve that on top of everything. She didn't do anything wrong. All she does is help people, she the kindest person I know.
I know she has a hard time taking care of herself, but that's what I'm here for. Even if she doesn't love me like I love her, I'll still look after her. I'm Cameron, the best friend she's had for three years now.
I hope to God nothing happens to me. If something does, she'll break. She'll fall apart. I know her motive on life is to take care of Brianna, but she couldn't do that without me. Not yet.
I know she can take care of herself, but she's not ready. I've looked after her when her father didn't, when she was alone and afraid. I've come to her rescue every single time she's gotten in trouble. In the city, the restaurant, the hospital, the lake.
I need to slowly teach her how to defend herself. I have too. What happens if I'm gone? Who will take care of her? I know Layke won't. He couldn't do everything I do for her. He doesn't love her as much as I do, let alone know her as much as I do.
Scooter couldn't because he isn't a man yet. Not to be rude, but he follows Robbie around like a lost puppy. He can't do anything for himself.
Even on my grave, I wouldn't let Robbie ever touch, care, or be around Summer without me. Not after what he just pulled.
I'm the only one that can take care of Summer. If I'm not here to take care of her, than she won't be able to take care of Brianna. I need to stay alive for Summer, and Brianna. It's all in my hands.
Honestly, that puts a lot of shit on my shoulders. Guilt too. You have no idea how strongly I feel that James' death was my fault. I should've stayed at the back of that line when we were crossing the intersection. I know I would have handled that situation so much differently. Maybe if I was at the back of the line, James and Phoebe wouldn't be dead and Brianna wouldn't be passed out unconscious.
I should have done something different. I should have shot at the soldiers trying to take the girls. I could have saved all of them. More importantly, Summers well being.
I know she's suffering from the loss of her father. I can see it in her face and the way she carries herself. She might think she's hiding it from me, or maybe she's hiding it from herself too, but I know she's eating herself alive about it.
I know she misses her mother and her father. Even though her father kept her from the world, she had the comfort of not being able to worry about the stuff other kids had to worry about. She had a curfew and wasn't allowed to go to any of her friends houses. I remember asking her to come over many times, but she couldn't because of her father. I would never understand, I was right down the street.
She never had to worry about money. Not because she was always given money, it was the exact opposite. Her parents gave her nothing. Not in a punishable way, they didn't have anything to give. She didn't get to go out with friends much, only to places that didn't involve having to pay for something, like a park or hanging out at someone's house. But her father never let her, so there's no point.
No wonder why she didn't have friends. The things her parents kept from her made her that way. They made her socially awkward, not being able to read people, and not having basic social skills. She's been getting comfortable and learning so much since Z-Day. Her father was off her back, and he trusted me. But now he's gone, and she feels awful for it.
She doesn't have anyone to disobey. I know that she shouldn't be disobeying anyone in the first place, but she needed too. It was comforting to her to finally get to do what she wanted. Going against what her father told her to do, made her feel free. Since he's gone, that disappeared. She feels like she has to grow up.
I'm not saying she's immature and she's a stupid teenager, she needs to conform to the life she's been given. She needs to accept that she isn't going to have constrictions anymore. She's allowed to be herself, and do whatever she wants without being told to do it. She needs stop blaming all the mistakes that she makes on her father, and take responsibility for her actions.
On the other hand, she has Brianna now. She's not a toddler but she's still a youngster. She needs to be taught how to live in this world by her big sister. I know right now, that's not going to happen. Not without me.
Hearing someone walk into the dinning room makes me lose my train of thought. I blink my swollen eyes. I finally stopped crying, but the pain in my head still remains. I turn around slowly in the chair to see Scooter standing before me. The dim light of the candles shows most of his face, I can see that it's covered in dirt and grime. His military uniform is splattered with blood, and his pistol hangs out of his pocket. His blond hair looks greasy and smelly, but mine probably does too.
"Hey." He says hushed.
I nod my head to say hello. I turn back around in my chair and grip on the glass of whiskey I've been sipping out of for twenty minutes now. I need something to bury my sorrows deeper inside me, and take away this enormous headache that makes me feel like I'm hungover. I know this doesn't compare to what I'll be feeling in the morning though.
"The screaming attracted some infected, but Layke and I went outside and put them down before they knew where all the yelling was coming from." He sits down next to me at the breakfast table.
"That's good," I take another sip of my drink. "How are you feeling?" I ask after the fiery liquid stings down my throat.
"Same old, same old." He shrugs. "You?"
"Honestly, real fucking bad." I laugh a little, but the feeling of complete helplessness washes over me, I have to hide the tears forming in my eyes. I don't want to seem like a wussy.
"I bet that's a understatement." Scooter laughs back. "I just want to apologize for Robbie's actions tonight. He's going through a lot."
I nod my head and try to hide my rolling eyes. I grit my teeth as I fight the urge to argue back.
"I know how you feel."
"You do?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. How in the hell does he know how I feel?
"Well, not fully. But I have an idea." He says and motions to take a sip of my drink by pointing to it.
I slide the glass over to him. "How so?"
"Do you feel like you could have done something different? Done something better?" He asks in a stern voice after he takes a sip of the drink.
Did he read my mind? "Yeah." I sigh.
"Then yeah, I know how you feel." He says and chugs the last couple sips in the glass. "Want more? What were you drinking?"
"Whiskey, the one in the brown bottle."
He walks out of the dinning room and into the living room to the bar. I hear him pluck the cork out of the bottle, and pour the liquid into the glass.
"How do you know how I feel?" I questioned loud enough for him to hear.
"Watching your father die does that to you." I hear from around the corner.
I forgot that Scooter was there up close the whole time. He watched Daniel get bit, and then eaten alive right in front of him. The same thing happened to Summer. I could only imagine what she felt like after seeing something like that. When my father died, I didn't see him get bit. I didn't have each second of the experience wired into my brain.
My father and I were coming back from the city on a supply run. It was only a month after the infection spread, so there were more people, more infected gathered in the small neighborhoods.
We got out of the truck to go in a gas station real quick. I went inside and got a couple of things. While I was stuffing my bag with the last of the canned pickles they put on the gross hot dogs, I heard a scream and a couple of gun shots. I ran outside to see my father bleeding from a small bite mark on his arm, and three infected laying on the concrete ground.
I drove the rest of the way home, knowing what would happen. I helped him in the house, and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. My father was a strong man, a man that didn't take defeat. He didn't want to turn into one of the horrible monsters, so right after he stopped breathing, I shoved my knife through his head.
The moment he died was hard, but it wasn't burdened by other things, I was only focused on him. I didn't have to worry about more infected eating him, or the military shooting me dead. Just me and him saying our goodbyes. I got closure.
I buried him in my back yard, alone and scared. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
That was nothing compared to what Summer and Scooter had gone through. I feel sorry for them, no one deserves to see they're parents die in such a traumatic way.
Scooter walks back into the room with the glass damn near full to the top. He sets it on the table in front of me and sits back down in the chair. "I wish I could have done something more.... Something more to save him."
"There was nothing you could have done." I try and comfort him as I take a swing on my drink.
"Yeah yeah yeah, that's what I keep telling myself." He starts. "But the thought that I could have done something better comes back into my mind. I should have been there to protect him. I should have been faster, I shouldn't have let that infected get any where near him. I could have did better." He sighs. I push the drink over to him and he takes a big gulp.
"You know it was Layke and I's fault that the horde even came in the first place." I add, the thought tearing at my heart. Maybe it was my fault Daniel died.
Scooter shakes his head. "No, it wasn't. Well I mean, it was, but you didn't know that was going to happen."
"I guess you could look at it that way." I laugh and take the glass back from him.
"Plus, I already felt like this before my Dad died. You know, the whole human existence dwindling down every second of every day, that fucks you up in the head. Knowing that one day, there will be no more humans. We'll be extinct, gone forever just like the dinosaurs. At least they all died quickly from the meteor. Well, perhaps burning to death isn't as luxurious as I make it sound." He chuckles and wipes his sweat stained hair off of his forehead.
"I guess you're right." The thought does sound extremely depressing. "Maybe it was our destiny, with all the bullshit terrorism, greed, and tyranny that controlled us, now we're free from it."
Scooter sits up in his chair, puts an elbow on the table, and places his head on top of it. "Maybe this is some form of Rapture. Maybe this is God's way of punishing us for all the horrible things we've done. All I can hope is that He will come and save us from it all. I just don't want the human race to be non-existent. Just thinking about it is beyond me. A planet full of walking corpses, and then what happens when they all whither away? There will be nothing left. I just can't fathom how the Earth will be." He motions to the surrounding area with his arms.
"I can't either man." I say and finish off the last sip of my drink.
"It just makes you question our existence," He picks up his head from looking at the table, he notices me running my finger around the rim of the glass. "Alright alright. I'll stop boring you." He laughs.
"You weren't boring me, I was just thinking." I try to explain.
He stands up in his chair. "Good, I was always into conspiracies and I'm known to blow people's minds from time to time." He jokes.
"I'll have to listen to them sometime, getting your mind blown is about the only way to keep yourself sane." I stand up as well.
"I'll hold you too it!" He smiles. "Well I think it's time to go hit the hay, that's all the drama I can take for the night."
"Yeah sounds good, the couch in the office is calling my name!"
He starts to walk out of the room, but pauses and turns back around. "If you need anything don't hesitate to get me. I'm no 'I know what to do' type of guy, but I'll try to help in anyway I can."
I smile and nod my head. "Sure thing, goodnight."
He turns around and waves his hand above his shoulder, signaling the same thing back. I pick up the glass and put it in the sink. For what reason, I have no clue. I know we will be leaving in the morning and no one will wash it, ever. But it keeps the part of humanity I always knew in the back of my head.
I walk up to the four candles on the breakfast table, pick one up, and blow the rest out. I make my way out of the dining room, and towards my stiff cardboard-like bed in the office. I know I'll probably not be able to sleep, but if I do, I know I will be replaying the picture of Robbie attacking Summer over and over again in my nightmares.