Seeing that everything had settled, we all went downstairs. Rohan stood there silently, staring at the floor. We waited for him to speak. Only when he finally lifted his eyes and met my father's steady, unblinking gaze did he begin.
"Those three bandits came two weeks ago asking for help," Rohan said, his voice trembling. "I gave them some food and water… but they found out I had a lot of canned supplies. They demanded everything. I begged them not to take it all, so they made me a deal. If I gave them ten cans of food and—" His lips quivered, tears spilling down his cheeks. "—and my sister for one night, they said they'd leave us alone. I didn't want to agree… but I had no choice. I did what they told me."
"What the fuck were you thinking?" Matthew snapped, disgust twisting his face. "Handing over your sister? My God—"
Even Ava gasped, covering her mouth.
My father remained silent, watching Rohan with an unreadable expression.
As for me… I felt sick and disgusted too. But at the same time, I was disturbingly calm. Even after hearing everything and seeing two dead bodies, the horror didn't hit me the way it should have.
It felt like reading a terrible headline or watching a tragic story on the news—you feel shaken for a moment… and then the feeling fades.
That's how it felt.And realizing that about myself was its own kind of unsettling.
Rohan shook his head miserably. "I know what I did was horrible. I know. But they would've killed us both and taken everything. And even after I did what they asked, they came back a few days later demanding the same thing—despite promising they would leave us alone."
His voice thinned, collapsing under the weight of what came next.
"I reluctantly agreed again… but after they took my sister a second time, she was never the same. She cried whenever a stranger came near her. She wouldn't sleep unless I held her." He swallowed hard. "Seeing her like that… I refused to let them take her again. I told them they could take more food instead."
He wiped his face with a shaking hand.
"They promised that if I gave them fifteen cans a week, they'd leave us alone. But… they lied." His jaw tightened, grief sharpening into rage. "They came back today to kill me and take everything—" His eyes burned, wet with fury. "—including my sister."
We all turned to look at Jack, still trembling on the ground. Disgust and anger twisted in my chest. I never imagined people could be this cruel, this ungrateful, feeding on the kindness of others only to destroy them later.
But then my father's earlier words returned to me—how he'd calmly said he intended to get rid of the siblings and take over the motel if necessary.
The thought hit me hard.
I didn't know what to think anymore—what separated good people from bad ones?Where was the line?Who decided it?
I knew my father had a good heart. I knew he would do anything to protect the people he loved. But even then… I couldn't fully understand.Not the world.Not other people.Not even him.
And the worst part was… I wasn't sure if anyone could.
Matthew stepped toward Jack and kicked him in the face, sending him trembling to the floor.
"You fucking disgusting bastard!" he shouted, kicking him again.
Jack groaned in pain.
"Matthew, stop. I still need to have a word with him," John said as he approached the wounded man and drew his gun.
As soon as Jack saw the weapon, his breathing grew ragged.
"Now, kid, I'm going to ask you something. Answer truthfully. If I hear even a hint of a lie, I'll blow your head off. Are we clear?"
"Yes," Jack whispered.
"Good. Then tell me—why didn't you kill Rohan and take over this motel sooner? Why wait until now?"
Jack hesitated, glancing around the room, but the pressure forced the truth out.
"We didn't want to share food with our group," he said. "We wanted this place for ourselves—somewhere we could come whenever we wanted for food and… whatever. But our camp was attacked by a horde of undead. We barely escaped and lost all our supplies. Everyone was starving except us. When our leader noticed we weren't hungry, he realized we were hiding food. He threatened to kill us if we didn't hand it over. That's why we're here… and we planned to give the girl to him as forgiveness."
John's expression hardened.
"Where was your camp when the horde attacked? How many people are in your group, and where are they now?" he demanded, tightening his grip on the gun.
Terrified, Jack raised his hands. "I'll tell you—please don't shoot!"
"Then you'd better fucking tell me. Quickly."
"T-There were fifteen of us," Jack blurted. "Our original camp was four miles from here. The new one is a mile north of this motel."
John's eyes turned cold.
"Did you partake in molesting his sister?"
Jack froze. Tears streamed down his face; he began sobbing uncontrollably, even wetting himself as he sat in terrified silence.
That silence said everything.
Bang! Bang!
John shot him twice in the head. Rage tightened every muscle in his face. Ava tried to cover my eyes, but I could still see through the gaps between her fingers.
"You fucking piece of human shit," my father muttered, kicking Jack's lifeless body.
Seeing this, I understood something clearly: what separates humans from monsters are the boundaries they set for themselves. Humans honor those boundaries; monsters abandoned them long ago.
My father can be cruel, even heartless, but he has lines he will never cross. That's what makes him human… unlike those who discarded every boundary and became something else entirely.
Moments later, John's eyes widened with fresh worry. He turned sharply toward us.
"All of you—grab the guns on the floor and take everything you need. We're moving out of this motel right now."
"Why? You said this place was safe," Ava said.
John shook his head. "Someone must have been watching the three of them to make sure they didn't run. We killed all three. Whoever was watching has probably already gone to inform their group. We need to leave before they arrive."
Matthew frowned. "But how can you be sure someone was following them?"
"It's better to be safe than sorry," John said sharply. "Do what I told you and let's go. There's a horde of undead nearby—we can't stay here. It's not safe anymore."
He pointed at Rohan. "Stop crying. Go get your sister and bring her downstairs. We're leaving."
We moved immediately. I grabbed a pistol; Ava, a shotgun; Rohan, the AK-47. We hurried upstairs while Matthew and John went to the basement to gather as much food as they could.