“Gonna need help with the ‘standing the fuck up’ part.” Silas ground out. By all rights, he had little room to be angry with these people since they thought he was guilty of murder, but it was a little hard to remember that when his injured leg was preventing him from doing what he was being ordered to do.
When the girl — he wasn’t sure what her name was, only that she was the colony leader’s sister — stepped forward, Silas didn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t an attempt to come to his defense. She didn’t even know him. Familiarity didn’t matter, because right at that moment, she was his guardian angel. Or, at the very least, someone who was more willing to give him the opportunity to explain. Chicks always seemed to have more sense than dudes, anyway. He glanced between Zimmerman and Luke, hoping they’d listen to her.
He inclined his head in acknowledgment when the girl said she didn’t trust him. “Didn’t expect you to, but thanks for at least hearin’ me out.” Silas felt like he was back in the interrogation room again, surrounded by all Bad Cops. He took a breath to collect his thoughts, which was made all the more difficult by the shouting protests in his leg.
“I was on patrol,” he began. “Like I’ve been doin’ ever since this shit started. Riverside. My side.” Not all the bodies had been found on riverside. They had to realize that. “I check out the buildings on this side, too. Not much of an unofficial security guy if I don’t check out the fuckin’ buildings, yeah?” He tried to make his tone sound casual, as if he wasn’t facing down a gun, but he could feel the sweat pouring off his forehead.
“Found this girl lying on the floor. Somebody stabbed her. I’m not medic, so I couldn’t help much, but you can see I tried to stop the fuckin’ bleeding.” When he realized that was the end of the story and that it gave absolutely no proof that he hadn’t done this, Silas swallowed hard and braced himself to stand. It was painfully slow going; his muscles had seized up on him, but he eventually made it to a standing position.
He leaned his weight against the wall, hands relaxed at his sides. “You so sure I’m the killer, Zimmerman? Shoot me, then. You’ll see I’m not when bodies keep piling up.”