Welcome to the End

Chapter 24: Returned to Service

"An assassin?" Kevin said in disbelief. "You used to be an assassin?"

"Used to be," George emphasized. "In the years before the zombie outbreak, I spent a considerable amount of time with a priest, discussing my past and if I had a future."

While they talked, George pulled the clip from his pistol and began filling it with bullets he dug out of his pocket. He brushed off each one to be certain they were clear of any lint before putting them in the clip.

"Did he convert you?" Kevin questioned, uncertain how he should feel standing in front of an assassin reloading his weapon.

"He never really got the chance," George admitted. "We'd spent hours in discussion, but before I made a decision, the zombies got to him."

"I suppose I should've phrased it differently," Kevin amended. "You said used to be an assassin. Why did you quit?"

"No one was hiring," George joked, slotting the clip back into the grip of his gun before dropping the weapon in its holster. "I suppose the real reason was tied to why I started wearing this outfit. He sacrificed himself to keep me from being bitten."

George raked a hand through his dark hair in frustration.

"The man least deserving of death dies to protect the man who deserved it most," George grumbled.

"He must have seen something good in you," Kevin pointed out. "You've certainly been a blessing to our group."

"He saw good in everybody, but before he turned, he told me that when a person is born again, they become a new creation in Christ," George said, looking off across the dark waters as he was unable to face Kevin directly. "So, I guess you could say the assassin died with the priest that day."

"I like the new you," Kevin offered. He stepped back and headed for the bridge, leaving George alone with his thoughts.

***

The breakfast Kevin ate was barely curbing his hunger, and the taste of the stale rations was bland and unappetizing. He swallowed the almost tasteless morsel while looking over the map he had spread on the table beside him.

"Would you mind some company?" Isabella asked.

"Not at all," Kevin said, a smile widening on his face as he looked up at her.

Isabella's left arm was in a sling, bandages marked her arms and face, and several good sized bruises turned her skin in half a dozen locations a deep shade of purpleish-black. She rested her right hand on the table for support as she lowered herself uncomfortably into the chair opposite Kevin, causing a painful wince in the process.

"I'd ask how you're doing, but it looks rather obvious," Kevin commented.

"It's not too bad," Isabella assured him, her voice strained. "What did I miss?"

"We cleaned out the ship of scavengers," Kevin informed her. "George was very helpful in that."

"Where is he?" Isabella questioned, looking around for the priest.

"He took to his room when the casualty list was compiled," Kevin answered. "We lost sixteen people."

Isabella swallowed hard. "I take it, George feels responsible."

"You would be correct," Kevin confirmed. "It was his idea to stop for additional fuel supplies, so he's taking it rather hard."

"I understand," Isabella said softly, considering the situation of George's perspective. She looked toward the map. "What's with the map?"