Silver Horizons | 16

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Really late and horrible chapter, I know. My writing just seems to be blah lately. I still got this though! It's pretty long, yeah?

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It’s not true.

            That was what I wanted to believe. I wanted to believe that it wasn’t true; that it really wasn’t my father who created the very species that has caused me to nearly go mentally insane (although I didn’t enjoy thinking about the consequences of such a thing happening). But it made sense. That was the thing that irked me and made me want to put a bullet through my head.

            It. Made. Sense.

            How else could my parents have known to pack guns? Hell, why did they back guns in the first place? To protect Kyle and I from zombies. It was the logical explanation, and right now all I could handle was logical. I couldn’t handle anything else.

            Dad must’ve known that the zombies would attack at one point or another. That was why they had us go on that road trip, also. The unexplained, unplanned, undeniably shitty road trip. They were trying to get us to Forest’s house—the Waters’—before any major zombie infection breakout happened. Well, they were a little late if you asked me.

            “Wait,” said Forest, holding his hand up to stop Georgia from talking again. “You’re telling me that my father—the very man who taught me how to dismember a zombie—was the one who created the damned creature?”

            “No,” Georgia replied.

            Forest shot her a ludicrous look.

            “It was her”—she pointed to me—“father that created the zombies. If you must know, we had good intentions from the start. It was his idea to generate a superhuman that couldn’t die. Essentially, we knew that was borderline impossible, so it was our farsighted goal to in the end to build the zombie, if you must. Basically, what we did—ahem, I mean he—was get corpses from the morgue and run tests on them. Eventually, some concoction of formaldehyde and another classified chemical created the zombie. It was just an experimental err that the zombie ended up being brain dead. We’ll be trying again later.”

            I narrowed my eyes at her, studying and analyzing her features and facial emotions. There weren’t many. But that was because she only had a few emotions. The strongest emotion being happiness. She was freaking happy that these zombies were created.

            “A warrior…” she trailed off, a blissful look in her eye. “One that would be extremely difficult to kill…” She caught my eye. “Isn’t it ideal? Your father was a genius.”

            “He was a monster,” I replied simply. “He created the bane of my existence.”

            “He was a brilliant man,” Georgia snarled at me, beginning to rise from her seat. “He—“

            I cut her off though. “He brought upon the earth the demise of the human race. How can you call that brilliant? How can you call that anything but monstrous?”

            “He was your father!” she exclaimed, beginning to make her way around her desk and toward me. Forest stepped forward and gripped my forearm, tugging me back a bit and away from Georgia’s soon-to-be clutches. “He was a wonder man, and you should respect him!”

            “He’s dead,” I told her lacking any emotion. “He’s dead, and it’s his own fault.”

            That was what I had come to realize. It was a zombie who killed him. One of his own creations. Wasn’t that just utterly tragic? One of his own inventions handing him his death on a silver platter? Maybe he wanted to die. Maybe he wanted to rid of his horrible crimes against nature.

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