Chapter 117 - Episode 104: A Story of Counting Your Sins
From this time, it is the final chapter.
That said, I think it will probably continue for a long time, so please look forward to it.
"Thank you, goodbye."
Saying so, I swung the iron bar down onto the head of my mother, who had her flesh torn all over her body and had turned into an infected. A dull sensation was transmitted through the iron bar along with the dry sound of the skull breaking. Before my eyes, the mother who had stopped moving turned into the figure of a blood-stained girl about the size of an elementary schooler. At the same time, the place where I was changed from the school toilet to a road where abandoned vehicles were scattered.
"It hurts... help me..."
Floating tears from the intense pain, she reached out her left hand to me, which was missing its index and middle fingers. I can only watch her as she bleeds, having been toyed with by the sniper.
(No...)
"Mana-chan!"
Shouting so, the moment I reached out my hand, the scenery changed again. This time, on a crumbling bridge amidst the pouring rain, the hand I reached out was gripping a woman's arm. That blonde woman, older than me, would fall into the swollen river in an instant if I let go of her hand. That woman, suspended in mid-air, was shouting, "Pull me up quickly!"
I was desperate to respond to that voice. My left hand, which was somehow grabbing the handrail remaining on the bridge girder, felt like it would tear at any moment under the weight of two people. On the other side of the bridge, which was divided from the middle, infected were rushing toward us to catch us and falling into the river.
"Help!"
The voice seeking salvation was also being emitted from another place. When I somehow turned my neck to check behind me, another girl was being pinned down by an infected and was struggling. At the same time, the entire bridge shook greatly, and the slope of the bridge girder, which was bent with the cross-section facing downward, increased further.
At this rate, before I can pull up the woman before my eyes, the bridge girder will fall and both of us will fall into the river. If that happens, the girl being pressed upon by the infected will be eaten alive without being saved by anyone. Do all three die, or do I choose the side with more survivors where two survive—?
(Stop...)
I had no choice but to choose the latter. Rather than everyone dying like this, as many people as possible should survive. I was rationalizing it in my head like that, but the truth might be that I was afraid of dying. Whatever the reason was, I let go of her hand.
"I'm sorry..."
Along with that voice, Naomi-san falls toward the river before my eyes as I let go of her hand. In those eyes, it looked to me like the color of confusion asking "why," the fear of death, and above all, the color of despair at being betrayed by a person she trusted were floating.
"Mama..."
With those words as the last, Naomi-san's figure was swallowed by the raging brown river surface. But I understood well myself that this was not the end.
(Please stop...)
The world darkened again, and this time I was sitting in a school hallway. My right eye was blind from the blood overflowing from my torn forehead, and in the depths of my halved vision, a single infected was running toward me. If I looked closely, the face of that infected was one I knew well, and it had the face of the girl I had just sworn to protect. The middle school girl I was able to save for the first time—but because I made the wrong choice, she, who had turned into an infected, is now about to eat me alive.
Before I knew it, a single revolver handgun was gripped in my hand. No, don't do such a thing. Suppressing such a scream of the heart, I raise the hand that gripped the handgun. I have to do this—along with that thought, I pulled the trigger.
"—!"
There, the boy wakes up. Despite it being midwinter, the clothes he was wearing were soaking wet with sweat. In the sky visible beyond the windshield, the sun had not yet risen. Looking at his wristwatch, the time he had set the alarm for was far ahead.
"...Damn it."
Waking up in the middle of the night after being haunted like this had become the boy's daily routine for the past few days. Alone, he couldn't take turns sleeping with someone; he had to fall asleep while paying attention to even the slightest sounds by himself. And even if he somehow managed to get some sleep, he would wake up after being haunted like earlier and had been in a state of sleep deprivation lately.
The driver's seat of the car with the backrest tilted down was uncomfortable to sleep in, and that might be one cause of the sleep deprivation. However, the fundamental cause was likely the boy's mental state, not the discomfort. In the four days since he jumped out of the academy, there hasn't been a day when he slept soundly until morning.
Every night since he slipped out of the academy, the boy was having dreams. The contents of the dreams were always decided. They were about the people who had died because of him, and about the people he had killed. As if to reproach him, those dreams floated into the boy's brain every night.
Every time he had a dream, he told himself: regarding the people who died, there was nothing he could do. That was the best I could do at that time; even if anyone else had been in the same position, the same result would have been brought about.
Regarding the people he killed, it couldn't be helped. There was no other means to protect his own life than to do that. In the first place, it was the other side that attacked, and I only exercised my legitimate right to protect my own life. Anyone else would have made the same decision. He repeated that many times, but his heart didn't clear, and the dreams didn't stop. The words "it can't be helped" wander emptily in his heart.
He tried to sleep once more, but his head, which had become clear, wouldn't fall asleep. Besides, even if he slept, he would just see a dream and end up waking up anyway, so it would be the same if he woke up now. Having judged so, the boy pulled the insulation sheet he was wearing off his body and turned the engine key.
What the boy had realized in these past few days was the thankworthiness of an existence that would serve as a watchman while he was taking a rest. Previously, when he had comrades, they slept while taking turns watching. There was the dissatisfaction of not being able to sleep soundly until morning and having to wake up in the middle of the night, but it was also true that he was able to sleep with peace of mind because a comrade was watching over him.
But since he started acting alone, he has to jump up the moment he hears even a trivial sound. It's natural to check the safety of the surroundings before sleeping, but one doesn't know where the infected will come from. If the opponent is another human, he needs to be even more wary. So that the sleep until morning doesn't become an eternal sleep, the boy had come to wake up at even the slightest sound.
Naturally, the boy's fatigue had accumulated considerably over these past few days. One way or another, when he was at the academy, he was able to rest reasonably well. There was the worry of having his throat slit in his sleep, but once he understood that the academy students were a bunch who didn't even have the guts to kill a person, he was able to relax considerably. Because there were many people, he didn't have to wake up in the middle of the night to watch, and he was able to sleep slowly until morning.
But now there is only one person. He has to handle everything by himself. The boy told himself that he had just returned to the state before he visited the academy, but in the depths of his heart, a feeling of regret for jumping out of the academy was beginning to sprout.
However, there were also advantages to being alone. If he is alone, he doesn't have to look after anyone else, and no one's words or actions will disturb his heart. He is used to being alone, and rather, he thought that way was easier to do. Even though he should have thought so, the sense of emptiness as if something were missing from the boy's heart did not disappear.
The sense of emptiness he had continued to harbor since the comrades he finally met died had not been particularly conscious since he visited the academy. But immediately after leaving the academy, the sense of emptiness is peeking its face out from the depths of his heart again.
Wouldn't it have been better to stay at the academy as it was? While pushing the hardtack for breakfast into his mouth, the question he had repeated many times over the past few days floats into his head. The meal is also very tasteless compared to when he was at the academy. There is also the fact that at the academy, they served things that were cooked after a fashion, but as expected, a meal alone was a lonely thing.
However, the question he repeated many times eventually settles on the conclusion that he cannot return now anyway. The bunch at the academy have no resolve to survive in this world and are mostly amateurs who have mastered almost no techniques. The bunch who spout carefree things like hope and future will surely be killed immediately if they are attacked by infected or rioters. Rather than being with such a bunch, the probability of survival is higher alone.
He concluded so, but the fact that he repeats the question many times likely means he himself is not satisfied with that answer. But what should he do? The rules and way of thinking he mastered after surviving this hell for more than half a year are denied by the academy students. Similarly, the boy cannot recognize their rules and way of thinking based on the rules of the world when it was peaceful. That is why it is better for them to be away from each other.
Having forcibly concluded so, the boy drove the car. There is no place to go. There is no safe place anywhere, and no one will protect him. He has no choice but to create a safe place by himself and survive. The car, which started driving toward the east for the time being, had already entered the Kanto region.
If he continues straight east like this, he will come out in Tokyo. What has happened to the 12 million citizens who lived in Tokyo? Did everyone die, or did they become infected? And the police and JSDF who were protecting them?
It was dangerous to approach urban areas, but he no longer had a choice but to enter cities where infected wander in order to obtain supplies. With food items reaching their expiration dates one after another and only preserved foods being edible, the amount of supplies that slightly remained has decreased to the point where survivors are snatching them from each other.
But a large amount of supplies still remain in urban areas. Because there are many infected in urban areas with large populations, there are almost no survivors who try to go to such places on purpose. While the supplies in the dangerous urban areas with many infected are almost untouched, and the supplies in the relatively safe suburbs are being exhausted, one has no choice but to set foot into dangerous cities to obtain food. Or if one can do agriculture, it's a different story.
This is the daily life in the current world, the boy thought. You can't survive unless you fight. Kill someone, and be killed. You can only live in this world by continuing to kill someone. Whether the opponent is an infected or a human, you must kill everyone who harms you. That was the rule the boy learned.