"Don't shoot!"A blonde woman—slim, long-haired, barefoot in a duck-print nightgown—burst out of the bathroom with her hands raised the moment she saw the barrel of Gantzuke's gun pointed at her face.
From her height, figure, and the way her full breasts pressed against the thin fabric with no bra underneath, Gantzuke guessed she was around twenty-five.Likely the older sister of the little zombie girl he'd just put down.
"Were you bitten?" he asked, still aiming at her.
"S-She was my sister!" the woman screamed, her eyes falling on the mutilated body near the stairs.
Then she fainted.
Gantzuke caught her before her head hit the ground.
He glanced at Mari, who had crept up behind him.She no longer looked afraid of the child zombie's corpse.That was something.
"Is she okay?" Mari asked quietly.
Gantzuke leaned down, inspecting the woman's neck.Then lifted her nightgown.
"W-What are you doing?!"Mari's eyes went wide as she watched him start to undress the unconscious blonde.
The fabric slipped off, exposing soft, pale skin and perfectly round breasts with small, rose-pink nipples.
"Just checking for bite marks," Gantzuke said flatly, trying to keep his mind from drifting toward anything inappropriate as his eyes scanned her body.
"So... what do we do with her?" Mari asked, looking around nervously.
"Not much until she wakes up."He cuffed the woman's wrists behind her back, securing her to the staircase railing.Then stood and methodically checked every room on the second floor.
"Looks like the place is clear," he said, finally settling down beside Mari. He stretched his legs out and let his shoulders relax a little.
Mari sat beside him, staring down at the bloodstains and bits of brain matter on her clothes. She didn't speak for a moment.
"How… how can you do that?"Her voice cracked.
She was thinking of her father.Of the way he screamed, the way he died.The guilt weighed on her chest like a stone.
"Fighting them like that… without fear."Tears welled up in her eyes, turning red.
"My dad… h-he tried to protect me… and I couldn't… I couldn't do anything."
She pressed her face against Gantzuke's chest, sobbing quietly.
He wrapped his arm around her, warm and gentle."You did your best," he whispered near her ear, eyes still watching the stairs, gun in hand.
"Live on—for him."His breath was calm, steady. His hand stroked her head gently.
Mari nodded through her tears.
"I'll take care of you," he said.
"Promise?"
"I promise."He kissed the top of her head.
Mari sat back, wiping her tears. Her gaze flicked toward the unconscious woman on the stairs, then back to Gantzuke with a confused look in her eyes.
"You should..."Gantzuke started to tell her to go wash up.
Screeech… RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
Tires screeched outside. Gunfire exploded from the front of the house.
Gantzuke shoved Mari down, keeping her head low.
He grabbed the nearest weapon from the floor, loaded and ready, and crept into the room where the mother's corpse still lay face-down.
He stepped carefully, avoiding the body.
Outside, streetlamps cast twisted shadows through the curtains, flickering across the walls and floor in jagged, disjointed shapes.
Gantzuke pressed his back to the wall and listened.
Heavy gunfire echoed outside—mounted weapon, high caliber.Like thunder in the middle of a warzone.
His heart pounded as memories surged.The last firefight with the rebels.The rocket blast that took his leg.
He clenched his jaw, breathing slow, trying to push the flashbacks out of his mind.
…Goddamn it…Gantzuke held his breath and slowly leaned toward the edge of the window, peeking between the gap in the curtains.