Dawn painted the forest in watercolor hues, pink and orange light filtering through the bushes. Rebecca and Billy sat in the car, exhaustion etched into their faces beneath layers of grime and dried blood.
"We did it" Rebecca said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Billy's eyes tracked the rising sun through the windshield. "Yeah, we did... The sun is coming up too."
"I should take you to the police station." Rebecca kept her expression neutral, though her fingers drummed against the steering wheel.
Billy's head snapped toward her, muscles tensing beneath his tattooed skin.
A smile tugged at Rebecca's lips. "I'm joking. I'll drop you off at a gas station. What do you think?"
"Sounds good..." Billy studied her face, searching for any hint of deception. "But why?"
Rebecca shrugged, her S.T.A.R.S. uniform stiff with dried sweat and worse things. "I guess I owe you one, are you telling me to arrest you?"
"No, no, I..." Billy ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "I never thought you were that kind of person, that's all."
"I don't know what kind of person I am, Billy." Rebecca's voice cracked. "It's all so blurry now."
"I get it."
"Do you get it? Really?"
Rebecca dug into her cargo trousers, pulling out a crumpled packet of crisps. Her hands shook. "Can you open this for me?"
Billy took the package, his fingers brushing hers for a moment. The plastic crinkled as he tore it open, passing it back. Rebecca shoved a handful into her mouth, dropping the bag between her legs. Her knuckles on the steering wheel. Billy watched her, concern etching deeper lines around his eyes.
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"What, what's wrong?" Rebecca mumbled through her mouthful. "Do you want some?"
She thrust the package toward him, but Billy shook his head.
"No, Rebecca... listen to me. What are you going to do after this?"
"Why are you asking? I already said I'm not going to hand you over."
"It's not because of me, Rebecca." Billy's voice softened. "Just answer."
"Well, I don't really know what I'm going to do." Rebecca brushed crumbs from her lap. "I'm not thinking about it right now, why?"
"Look, I know it's none of my business, but I think you should take a break."
"What do you mean?"
Billy shifted in his seat, choosing his words carefully. "What I mean is that no one would be okay after experiencing something like that."
"You're calling me crazy..."
"I think you're in shock and without treatment it can make you volatile, and volatile people in our profession..." Billy's expression darkened. "They don't end well."
"I didn't think you were that kind of person."
"Just a word of advice, take it or leave it."
Rebecca's shoulders slumped. "I'll keep that in mind... thanks."
"Don't mention it."
The gas station materialized out of the morning mist, its lights harsh against the soft dawn. Rebecca pulled into the empty lot, gravel crunching under the tires.
"I guess it's time to say goodbye."
"Yeah..." Billy's lips quirked. "A day to remember, huh?"
He reached for the glove compartment, sliding his gun inside. Rebecca leaned across the console, her fingers finding his dog tags. With a sharp tug, she ripped them from his collar.
"Billy Coen is officially dead."
"Uh, I guess I'm a zombie now."
The car door groaned as Billy stepped out into the crisp morning air.
"Wait, do you have any money?"
Billy leaned against the window frame, producing a wallet with a grim smile. "Not like they're going to need it."
"Yeah, you're right..." Rebecca swallowed hard. "Goodbye Billy."
"Goodbye, officer."
He walked a few paces before turning, offering a casual military salute. Rebecca responded with a thumbs-up, then pressed the accelerator. The car lurched forward, leaving Billy's silhouette shrinking in the rearview mirror.
The forest enveloped her once more. Billy's dog tags clinked against her chest as she grabbed another handful of crisps. Her fingers found the radio dial, and Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn" filled the car. Rebecca tapped the steering wheel, her voice joining the melody in a soft, shaky harmony.
"I'm wide awake and I can see
The perfect sky is torn
You're a little late
I'm already torn..."
Sunlight streamed through the trees, illuminating the young woman beneath the dirt and bruises. The stitches on her cheek stood stark against her pale skin as she sang along, finding solace in the familiar lyrics.
The music crackled, giving way to static. A woman's voice, distorted and desperate, cut through the white noise. Rebecca slammed the brakes, tires skidding on asphalt. Her hands scrambled through the car until she found a radio unit.
"Hello, hello, is anyone there?"
"I need help, no, please-" The voice fragmented through waves of interference.
"I don't quite understand you, where are you?"
"Mansion, these infested monst-"
Rebecca's blood ran cold, recognition hitting her like a physical blow. Her voice emerged as a horrified whisper.
"...Jill?"
THE END.