Chapter 130: Leave No One Behind
A magazine of bullets was quickly emptied, and Steven had no time to reload. He discarded the submachine gun to the ground and drew two police pistols from his waist with both hands.
The snow hampered their escape. Steven’s shots were precise, each a headshot. In less than twenty seconds, almost everyone on the scene lay dead.
A few stragglers remained in the snow, their legs trembling as they raised their hands, faces etched with fear and desperation.
"Steven, we're not with them. This has nothing to do with us!"
"I swear, I swear this has nothing to do with us! Please don't kill me!"
Steven recognized these building managers. They hadn't made any move against him; they had simply stood by. Perhaps they truly weren’t involved.
Nonetheless, Steven pulled the trigger. Headshots once more, and the building managers crumpled into the snow too.
His gaze fixed on the last person standing, Building 9's manager, Caitlin. She was engulfed in terror, snot and tears streaking down her face.
"Steven, I swear, I had nothing to do with it. Please believe me! I have a thirteen-year-old daughter abroad. I need to stay alive to wait for her return."
Steven stared at her coldly. After a moment's hesitation, a gunshot sealed her fate.
The once-pristine snow was now marred with patches of blood. Only Steven stood, surrounded by the disarray of more than forty corpses. Even in the grim apocalypse, this was the first time he had killed so many at once.
He knew that many of these people probably hadn't been part of the plot to kill him—Caitlin, for instance, and others in the patrol team. But he had no choice. Allowing anyone remotely suspected of conspiracy to live was an unacceptable risk. If he spared them today, they could become threats tomorrow.
Dead people posed no threat.
"You were all going to die sooner or later. Life's tough, isn't it? So, why not let me expedite your journey to the afterlife?"
Steven exhaled a puff of white smoke, holding his gun. "From a certain point of view, I've done you a favor. You should thank me."
With the enemies vanquished, Steven's gaze swept the area. The intense gunfire had drawn the attention of the remaining neighbors, who now peeked timidly from their windows, eyes wide with awe. Some even felt a sense of relief and gratitude for what Steven had done.
Steven set his sights on Building 26 and Building 21, strongholds of the Rapids and Crazy Wolves, respectively. Samuel and Owen couldn't escape the consequences of their first assault on Steven. Their men had already been waiting at the doors, ready to seize supplies once the leaders made their move. But when Steven unleashed his black M4 carbine, terror gripped them.
Now, Steven's gaze struck more fear into their hearts.
Aaron, the Crazy Wolves’ second-in-command, was trembling head to toe as he ordered his men, voice quavering: "Retreat, retreat! Keep that demon away!"
A frenzy of terrified subordinates fled into the corridors, scrambling to escape.
Steven didn't bother with the fleeing gang members. He walked straight to Henry, his eyes scanning for any lingering threats.
Nearby, the bodies of Dennis and Walter lay crumpled, blood oozing from multiple wounds. These two had once been loyal subordinates, comrades-in-arms in countless battles. For reasons unknown, they had turned against him.
Betrayal was something Steven had long since accepted as an inevitability in this grim new world. Anyone could betray him—Henry and Elinor included. But after today, Henry's status in Steven's heart would rise. The man had proven his mettle in the most decisive way.
"Henry, are you still with us?" Steven asked, half-squatting beside him. He checked Henry's pulse while keeping an eye on the surroundings, alert for any sneak attacks.
A moment of horror gripped him as he found no pulse. He then remembered his cut-resistant gloves and realized his mistake. Hastily, he turned Henry over.
Three blood-stained marks marred Henry's body, but the bullets hadn't struck his heart. Steven couldn't be sure if Henry could be saved, but he had to try. Doing so might lessen the crushing guilt weighing on him.
From the extradimensional pocket, he retrieved a syringe of adrenaline and jabbed it into Henry's chest. Then, he shouted towards Building 25, "Get over here and help!"
At the entrance of Building 25, a group of neighbors stood frozen with fear. They had been paralyzed by Steven's deadly efficiency and now hesitated to approach him.
Steven’s cold gaze swept over them, snapping them from their stupor. A group of them, trembling with fear, hurried over to assist.
"Lift him up and take him to my place! And be careful—if he gets hurt, I'll kill you myself!"
Under Steven's stern command, the neighbors handled Henry with extreme caution. Steven followed closely behind, his gun at the ready.
Cara, clutching her child, came rushing down the stairs, her face streaked with tears. Steven noticed that as she wept, Henry’s eyelids fluttered.
Steven sighed inwardly. 'Henry, you are too kind-hearted. But if not for your kindness and righteousness, I might have considered you a threat and dealt with you first.'
Anyone resilient and skilled yet incompatible with his plans became a liability that Steven couldn’t afford. But now, owing Henry a tremendous debt, he couldn’t afford any anger towards Cara.
The neighbors knew of Cara and Henry's close relationship and stepped aside to let her through. Cara, holding her child, positioned herself near Henry and Steven and began crying disconsolately.
"My dear! Open your eyes, look at me! I'm Cara, you promised to marry me! And the baby—you said you wanted to see her grow up until she’s eighteen. We planned to be a family once this apocalypse was over."
"Oh, my dear!!!" she cried, drawing out the word for a full five seconds.
"How can you break your promise!!!" she continued, in the same drawn-out manner.
"If you die, how will the baby and I survive? You might as well take us with you to the grave. Why play the hero? Is getting shot noble? But what about us, left alone without you?"
Steven felt a chill as goosebumps crept over his skin. Cara’s lament didn’t mention him explicitly, but every word carried an undercurrent of accusation.
On the surface, Cara mourned for Henry. In reality, she was telling Steven: Henry took those bullets for you. If he died, you had an obligation to care for us.
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