“She promised she would do this,” Miro says. “But I’m glad it’s you.”
His voice is breaking, rasping like claws dragged over gravel. His upper lip twitches and curls as he speaks. There is only one way to stop the Rage claiming him.
“Please look after them.” Miro shoves his pack towards me. “If you don’t…” He clenches his jaw and exhales loudly.
My hands burrow deep into my bag. A long time ago, we found a hospal… or medica… or something. Most of the equipment had been looted, but they left boxes of gloves and masks. I still have both. I tie a mask around my face and slip my hands into the gloves before taking the hunting knife from my belt.
It’s never easy, but it does stop hurting. I didn’t understand the first time. Father’s hand guided mine as we pushed the blade between mother’s ribs. Then she was gone.
I’m stronger now and my knife is always sharp. I won’t need help to slice through the muscles of Miro’s chest and puncture his heart. I take his hand as he tries to fight me.
“Not today, Miro.” I smile beneath the mask. “Sleep. Forever.”
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