(Book 3) Left 4 Dead 3: Dry County

1.3

Daeshim's chest constricted, his world crumbled as he saw the bite marks on his arm. Next thing he knew, he found himself on the other end of Jess' gun. His soul had already left his body when...

"SISTER!"

Dwain furiously rolled up his goggles, revealing his wide, angry eyes spiking the reckless nun.

"ARE YOU OUTTA' YO' DAMN MIND?!" He exclaimed. "DO YOU EVEN HAVE ONE?!" His voice heavy with fury, echoing throughout the entire school, not a care if an infected hears them.

Jess, with yet goggles on, and yet aiming at Daeshim, turned to the athletic ebony. Her face didn't seem to have any hints of hesitation. Subtle glares hidden behind those visors. The nun appeared as though she's willing to take the Korean's life without any reservation.

"He's been bitten." She slowly snarled. Every word weighed by grit and aggravation. "What do you want to do? Wait until he turns?"

Dwain stomped. The floor shook under the burden of his wrath. "YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT, THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I WANNA DO-WAIT UNTIL HE GROW FUCKIN' FANGS AND SHIT AND TRY TO KILL US FIRST, BECAUSE I AIN'T NO HEARTLESS MOTHERFUCKIN' MONSTER LIKE YOU!" The agitated male bawled on the top of his lungs.

"It's selfish." Jess sneered, and taunted the man by pressing the gun against Daeshim's forehead even more. "Why not just spare him the suffering?" The Korean's eyes tight-knit, his whimpers shaky. Tears about to burst out.

"Why not you get over yo' bloodthirst?" The ground wavered as Dwain made a couple of heavy steps and got closer to the nun, like a predator asserting his dominance. The flame of their fury lit up the dark backdrop. Their fierce glares clashing like swords parring, the two exchanged rebuttals.

"It would be a painful process for him."

"Oh really? How would you know about that?"

"I just know."

Dwain's face quivered. His eyes were bulging out. Heavy breaths in an aggressive rhythm, trying to keep up with the plummeting level of his patience. He clenched his fist. He wanted to put some on her, teach her a lesson. But his morals were repelling him. Never hit a woman. It has been instilled in him ever since. His breathing eased, but his face still laden with fury.

"Too bad," he uttered.

Jess drew her glares off Dwain and brought them to Daeshim. She watched him break down in sweat and tears on his knees like a hostage about to be executed. Only now, it's the Flu that's holding him captive.

The nun lowered her gun, and gawked back to Dwain as she holstered it. She then threw one last look at the Korean, and once again, back to the ebony, before turning her back to them and walking away.

The heavy wall crushing his chest suddenly collapsed as Daeshim felt the muzzle extracted from his forehead. He opened his eyes. The pain of being that hair-thin close to death was not an easy one to just shake off; another one to scar him for life. He gasped for air like the Earth had lost oxygen for five seconds, and braced his arms against the floor.

Dwain's flaming scowls followed the nun for a few seconds as she passed by. Her back rigid and her head high. He kept her as he thought having her around is a huge advantage. But deep inside, he is questioning her morals, and at the same time, himself. Was it the right decision to keep her in the team? If so, why does he feel she's gonna be more like a liability rather than an asset?

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He replayed the events that had led them here. Why does Jess care even more about ending everyone's suffering rather than trying to see if they still have another shot for living? And what did she mean by him being selfish for thinking so?

He looked back at Daeshim, who is now being checked on by Brenan. But his train of thoughts would be interrupted by an abrupt surge of words, borne by the nun's voice.

"You're being sentimental, big guy."

She had stopped in the middle of the hall, her silhouette outlined by the dim light. She turned her head slightly, looking at him over her shoulder.

"That'll eventually get you killed," Jess declared as she rolled up her goggles and completely turned to him. "And that, I know for sure."

Dwain met her gaze, his jaw clenched. He didn't say anything, but his eyes told her he had heard her loud and clear. And then watched her merge with the shadows, leaving him alone with his doubts.

He drew his eyes back to Brenan and Daeshim, just standing there, watching them. He waged a battle with his thoughts. Sentimental? What did she mean by him being sentimental? And why would that get him killed?

He clenched his fist. Everything she was saying doesn't make any sense. But why is he even thinking about those? He resents her. He resents her for not being compassionate and being a pain in the neck. He tried to ignore her words, but they are stuck in his head, nagging at him. Why do those nonsense words have such an impact on him when they don't make any sense at all? Is it his pride? Maybe. But he felt like there's more to it than just that. Something deeper, something he didn't want to admit.

A huge sigh escaped him. Sentimental. What's there to be sentimental about? Aside from his first dog, nothing else was more important to him other than his family, until he caught them acting like crazy animals and almost killed him. He couldn't do it to them.

Suddenly, he smelled the faint perfume of his wife, her hair, and heard the giggles of his daughter as she played with the neighbors around the yard. He remembered their laughter, their love, their happiness. He felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him, making him feel alive again. Wait. Nostalgia. Is that him being sentimental? But what does it have to do with Daeshim? Did he see his family in him somehow? Then how?

He approached him. Echoes of his shoes clattered throughout the hallway as he made his steps. He looked at the Korean. Kid almost died because of a bad call. Doesn't matter, he's gonna die either way once the flu takes over his brain and he joins the infected. It's a huge shame his family wouldn't even be able to say their goodbyes to him just as he didn't get to see his family before the flu devoured them. He didn't even know if they suffered, or if they even knew they were infected. Did his wife hurt their daughter when she turned? All those thoughts bothered the man. Is that him being sentimental?

He drew his eyes back to the dark oblivion where Jess disappeared. Wondering where she had gone anyway? Was she leaving the team? For real this time? His mind is divided with that sentiment-whether he wanted her to leave for good or stay for the sake of the team.

Brenan noticed Dwain towering over them. He seemed to be in a trance, eyes all up straight to the black horizon. But the medic just let him be, and threw something out of the blue.

"And you hate it when it's us fightin',"

"Doc??"

"I'm stupid."