Chapter 469: Lashing out at Kunta

After watching Rebecca run away, my first instinct was to go after her.

I even took a step toward the stairs before stopping myself.

What was I supposed to say without Rachel there?

Rebecca had not only found out about me. She had found out about Rachel too. If I chased after her alone, I would only make things worse. She would think I was trying to explain everything away before Rachel could speak for herself.

No.

Rachel needed to be there.

So instead of going downstairs, I headed up, in the last floor of the hotel.

Everyone knew she was staying there now.

Nobody was pretending otherwise.

But that did not mean people were comfortable with it.

Kunta looked young. Maybe early to mid-teens at most. But her alien features made people uneasy.

After what happened in Jackson Township and what Zakthar had done, many people still associated Kunta with him.

Most survivors stayed away from her.

Margaret visited sometimes. Martin and Linda did too. They were among the few people who treated her like a person instead of a threat. But even then, the tension around the hotel had not disappeared.

I had heard some people had even moved out of the Whitesun Hotel to sleep somewhere else.

They did not want to stay under the same roof as a Starakian.

Even if Kunta had helped us.

Even if she had used her weapon to stop Ravager.

Even if she had never attacked anyone in the Boardwalk.

Fear did not disappear because someone gave it a reasonable explanation.

I reached the top floor and walked toward Kunta’s room.

For a moment, I stood outside the door.

Then I knocked.

"It’s Ryan."

There was a short pause.

The door opened.

Rachel stood there.

She looked surprised to see me, but before she could speak, Kunta’s voice came from inside the room.

"What is that guy doing here?"

I looked past Rachel.

Kunta sat on the bed with her knees pulled close to her chest. Sonny lay beside her, though the mechanical dog lifted his head the moment he saw me. His metal legs shifted beneath him, and his body straightened into the posture of a dog ready to attack.

Kunta gave me a sharp glare.

"Still hating me?" I asked.

"You refuse to let me see Zak!" She snapped.

"Because it wouldn’t change anything. He’s still unconscious."

"I can help him somehow!"

"Are you a Starakian doctor?"

Kunta glared at me.

She did not answer.

"That’s what I thought."

I knew I sounded harsh.

Colder than I needed to be.

But every time I thought about Zakthar, I remembered the Screamer.

I remembered the destroyed streets. The people who died. Carmen and Shannon trapped in their house. The sound tearing through the Boardwalk while Infected flooded in from every direction.

And I obviously remember what happened in Jackson Township.

That guy knew what kind of weapon he was making and still did it.

"Ivy is taking care of him," I said. "Until he wakes up, you need to be patient."

Kunta’s eyes narrowed.

"You do not understand."

"No. I understand enough."

I stepped farther into the doorway.

"You can’t expect me to be lenient after your boyfriend tried to kill me and helped cause the deaths of a lot of humans."

Kunta looked away.

Her hands tightened around her knees.

"The humans you came here to save," I continued. "Remember them?"

Rachel gave me a worried look.

But I could not stop.

"In the end, that whole speech about Zakthar coming here to help humanity was bullshit. The second he needed to save himself, he built a weapon of destruction and destroyed a community that took people three months to build."

My voice had become colder with every word.

Sonny rose fully onto his mechanical legs.

The faint sound of metal shifting filled the room.

He was not barking.

He was not moving toward me.

But his eyes stayed fixed on me.

"Ryan..."

Rachel reached out and caught my arm.

The concern in her voice pulled me back.

I looked at her.

Then I looked at Kunta.

Kunta still had her face turned away from me, but I could see tears gathered in her eyes. She was holding herself tightly, trying not to let them fall.

For a moment, I felt sick.

Kunta had not built the Screamer.

She had not attacked the Boardwalk.

She had not made Zakthar choose Callighan over everyone else.

But I was standing here taking my anger out on her anyway.

I let out a slow breath.

"Sorry," I said quietly.

Kunta did not look at me.

Sonny remained beside her, his body still tense.

I did not know what else to say.

There were too many things between us now.

Too much anger.

Too much fear.

Too much guilt.

And no amount of apologizing would fix it in one conversation.

"Rachel," I said, turning toward her, "I need to talk about something."

Rachel studied my expression for a second.

Then she nodded.

I stepped back into the hallway, and she followed me outside before quietly closing Kunta’s door behind her.

The moment we were alone, Rachel looked at me carefully.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said. "Somehow."

It was the same answer I had been giving everyone lately.

Somehow.

I was still standing.

Still breathing.

Still moving forward.

So I guessed I was okay.

But right now, something else mattered more.

"It’s about Rebecca," I said.

Rachel’s expression changed immediately.

"What happened?"

"She found out about us."

Rachel’s eyes widened.

"W...What?"

"She was already suspicious," I said. "She asked me directly."

Rachel stared at me.

"And?"

"I couldn’t lie to her anymore."

The words came out quietly.

Rachel’s face went pale.

"What did you say?"

"I didn’t say much. But I didn’t deny it either."

I looked down the hallway.

"She understood. Or at least she understood enough."

Rachel’s hands slowly tightened at her sides.

"And then?"

"She ran off."

For a moment, Rachel said nothing.

Then panic started appearing in her eyes.

"I need to find her."

She turned as if she was about to rush down the stairs.

"Wait," I said.

Rachel stopped.

"I’m coming with you."

She looked back at me.

"It’s better if we explain together," I continued. "If I go alone, she’ll think I’m trying to make excuses. And if you go alone, she might think I forced you into it somehow."

Rachel’s expression tightened.

She clearly did not like that thought.

But she nodded.

"You’re right."

Before either of us could move, footsteps sounded from the stairs.

"Ryan, you’re here."

I turned around.

Cindy had come up the hallway with Daisy beside her.

Cindy looked relieved when she saw me, though the expression quickly changed into curiosity when she noticed Rachel’s tense face.

Daisy stood beside her quietly, looking between the two of us.

"Yeah," I said.

Then I looked at Cindy.

"Can you get everyone else? I need to talk about something important."

Cindy blinked.

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, including Lucy."

Cindy was puzzled but nodded.

"Okay," she said.

Rachel looked toward Daisy.

"Daisy, can you watch over Kunta for a little while?"

Daisy looked surprised.

"Kunta?"

"Just stay nearby," Rachel said. "She’s upset."

Daisy nodded, though she still looked confused.

"Okay."

Cindy gave me one last questioning look, but she did not ask anything else.

She turned and headed down the stairs with Daisy following her toward Kunta’s room.

Rachel and I remained in the hallway for only a moment.

Then we started moving in the other direction.

"She probably left the hotel," I said as Rachel and I hurried down the stairs. "But I don’t think she went far."

Rachel did not answer immediately.

Her expression was tense, and she kept looking toward every hallway and doorway as though Rebecca might suddenly appear from one of them.

Then she lowered her gaze.

"It’s my fault," she muttered.

I looked at her.

"It’s not."

Rachel shook her head.

"She’s my little sister."

The words came out quietly.

But they carried more weight than anything else she could have said.

I did not know how to answer.

I had never had a real sibling.

Technically, I had step-sisters. Two of them.

After my parents divorced, my father married another woman who already had two daughters. I had seen them.

But we were never close.

We barely spoke.

I never knew what it felt like to have someone younger who looked at you as their older brother. Someone you wanted to protect. Someone whose trust mattered so much that disappointing them could hurt more than any insult.

The only thing I really remembered was how my father acted around them.

He looked more fatherly with them than he had ever been with me.

The memory left a bitter feeling in my chest.

Not that it mattered anymore.

I did not even know whether they survived the outbreak.

I pushed the thought away.

"Rachel," I said quietly, "we both decided it was for the best."

Rachel looked toward me.

"I know."

"None of this was only my choice. You chose it too."

"But Rebecca doesn’t know that."

"She will."

Rachel stayed silent.

She clearly did not believe it would be that easy.

And honestly, neither did I.

By the time we reached the lobby, we asked about Rebecca to everyone.

They all said she left the hotel.

Rachel’s face tightened in worry, that she might have left our secured area.

We asked the others outside then and they all saw her simply walking off somewhere else and the path led toward somewhere familiar.

"I think I know where she is."

Rachel turned toward me.

"Where?"

"The building where we kept Penny."

The old building had been mostly abandoned since then.

It was damaged, dark, and empty enough that people avoided it unless they had a reason to go inside.

Rachel did not waste another second.

She started running.

I followed immediately.

We moved through the streets quickly.

She did not look back.

When we reached the old building, the sight made my stomach tighten a bit remembering about Penny.

We entered.

The inside was dark.

The air smelled stale, mixed with dust, old wood, and damp walls. Our footsteps echoed softly as we moved through the corridor.

"Rebecca?" Rachel called.

No answer.

We kept going until reaching that room, where Penny died.

Rachel reached the doorway first.

The room was almost completely dark, with only thin strips of morning light slipping through the broken boards over the windows.

Rebecca sat alone in an old armchair near the far wall.

Her head was lowered.

Her hands rested in her lap.

She did not look up when we entered.