He gave her a sideways glance without saying anything. There were beads of dried blood in her hair and as she ran her hands through it – that tic of hers again – her fingers caught on them. So she instead started to pluck the gluey flecks individually from the strands of her hair, talking as she did so.
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca began. “What I did back there was wrong and I owe you an apology. So I’m sorry. I’m not going to stand here and defend my actions, but I will try and explain why I did what I did. If you’ll listen.”
Eric kept his mouth shut. He had nothing to say to her.
“From the moment I turned nine years old, my dad started abusing me. Physically. Emotionally… Sexually. In every way possible. The worst part is that the rest of my family were in on it, my two older brothers always attacking me and shouting at me, my step-mum turning a blind eye. I think they all hated dad, really. And I doubt they knew the full extent of what he did to me behind closed doors. But they couldn’t stand up to him because he’d psychologically broken them, just like he was doing to me. He had us all under his thumb. But that didn’t change how much I fucking hated my step-mum and my brothers for what they did, everything they let happen.
“Most of the abuse stopped when I was fourteen – when doing drugs became my dad’s favourite pastime instead of tormenting me. I still had to live with him, which wasn’t fun, but it was miles easier when he was off his head all the time. Then eventually I moved out, went to live with Kara. We’d been seeing each other for a few months and she was the only person I’d ever told about all of it.
“I was at Kara’s flat the day the infection came to Braintree. I was sitting on her sofa watching the news when the emergency broadcast started playing. Kara came home early in her uniform, said she’d been ordered to go home by her chief because it was obvious from the broadcast that all the calls they were getting were about the same thing, and the backup they would need to handle it wasn’t coming. We were both scared shitless.
“Then the only thing that could make that day worse happened: my family showed up at the door. My dad tried to force me to go back home with them, saying he needed to keep me safe, but I wasn’t having it. Kara wasn’t either. Both of us stood there just trying to get the front door closed as my dad was blocking it, and he grabbed hold of me and tried to pull me outside. Everyone was shouting. He nearly dragged me out into the street – but Kara had her baton and she beat him with it so he’d let go. And that’s when the snappers came; they probably heard the yelling. There were about seven, eight of them. My step-mum got bit before they even saw them coming. My dad and brothers tried to pull them off of her, but they had no weapons and they got surrounded so fast…
“I let it happen, watched as they were all mauled to death, listened to their screams. Hearing the fear in my dad’s voice was weird and… and it felt good. But then I started to feel like I was becoming him – revelling in another person’s suffering – and it made me sick and angry to think he’d done that to me, fucked me up so deeply that I could watch my family get eaten alive without giving a shit. That I could get enjoyment from seeing him suffer.”
Rebecca paused. It was the most Eric had ever heard her say, and it occurred to him that maybe she was waiting for him to say something back, waiting to see his reaction to everything she’d just told him.
But then she sighed and continued to talk.
“When you tried to run down the van, when you dismissed my arguments, you reminded me of my dad. It threw me back into that survival-mode headspace. Again, it’s not an excuse, but that’s why I acted so rashly afterwards. When I walked away and left you stranded, Kara said something that I haven’t stopped thinking about since: she said, This is what your dad would have done. He would have left someone behind in a heartbeat to save his own skin. And what happened to him? Those words made me turn back… I’ll understand if you never put your trust in me again, but I’m asking you to forgive me for what I did this one time. Because I don’t want it to be karma that kills me like it killed my dad. Can you forgive me?”
Eric had been prepared to give Rebecca the silent treatment, let her stew in her guilt. But that was when he’d still been pissed off with her.
After hearing her story, he wasn’t angry anymore. Just weary. He could see why Rebecca had done what she had. She wanted a second chance and could he really deny her that when she hadn’t been dealt a fair set of cards in the first place? Her first chance hadn’t been much of a chance at all, by the sound of it.
Eric’s biological parents had died before he was old enough to understand what death was, surrendering his future to the lottery of orphanage. If he hadn’t lucked out with such a loving and jovial foster father, he might have ended up with a family as toxic as Rebecca’s.
He rubbed his face. He was tired. They all were.
“Thanks,” Eric finally said. “For the apology. For telling me everything. And yes, I forgive you. I’m ready to forget about every single thing that’s happened today. Let’s
