[JEFF]

"Gather the rest of the books and let's get going."

I looked down at my sweater. Drops of blood lined each sleeve, and on top of that my right shin was soaked from kneeling on the stained floor. I cursed in my head, though ordinarily this kind of sight would have given me even more of a rush. But now it was just messy to me.

Seeing more clearly, now, are you?

I had no way of telling whether that was Angus or not, and at that point I didn't want to know. I sighed and stood up straight, examining this (now dead) guy's Swiss Army knife. Most of the little tools had been long coated in rust. I wondered if he ever thought to really use it, or if he just thought it a handy thing to have around. Maybe he just never cleaned it properly. I shifted my gaze to where Max was standing, holding our books in the sling but looking a bit troubled. I found it in myself to chuckle.

"Still not completely on board with the whole cold-blooded killing thing?"

"Not completely, no."

"Hm. Well, I can work with that. I'm just glad it's not..." I trailed off. I wasn't exactly sure of what I was even going to say. I flicked the blade closed and stuffed it in a pocket again.

"...something else," I decided on. He seemed to catch my drift.

"So are we going to leave?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just got a little distracted." I picked at one of the many scars peppered on my hands and tried my best to narrow my eyes. It hadn't been as cathartic as I expected to be "myself" again. A weak sense of disappointment started to rise and fall with my chest. I shook my head, almost by habit, and started walking without another word.

—

Somehow, through pure luck and a fucked-up sleeping routine, we were able to make it through the night without getting drowsy at all. Normally, after a kill like that we'd head back to the trapdoor and get some rest. But we didn't really have anywhere to go back to right now. So we kept on in the direction Max's intuition, or whatever, was leading us. I noticed he was almost bowing his head, trying not to take his eyes off the street ahead. Maybe it was to honor that innocent person I'd killed? Either way, I hated looking at him, all mopey like that.

Eh. It's worth a shot.

"You wanna hear a joke?"

He gave me only a quick glance, then shrugged and continued walking. "That depends. What kind of joke?"

"Doesn't matter. You'll like it, I promise."

"...alright, then."

"Okay." I cleared my throat, not that it would do much. "So, a rabbit walks into a butcher shop, and asks the butcher if he has any carrots. Butcher says, 'No, sorry, this is a butcher shop. We only sell meat.' Rabbit says, 'Oh, okay,' then leaves. The next day he comes back again, asks the butcher if he has any carrots. The butcher says, again, 'No, we don't have any. We only sell meat.' At this point, he's getting a little pissed off.

"So the next day, again, the rabbit walks in. Asks for some carrots. The butcher says, 'I swear to God, if you walk in here asking for carrots one more time I'm going to nail your body to the fucking wall!' And wouldn't you believe it, the next day the rabbit doesn't show up. And the next, and maybe even a couple more days after that.

"Finally, he comes back around. Walks into the shop again. Asks the butcher, 'Excuse me, do you have any nails?' That kinda catches the guy by surprise, he answers honestly. 'No.' And then that little shit of a rabbit, you know what he does? He smiles, folds his hands behind his back and says, 'Okay, then. Do you have any carrots?'"

A couple moments passed between that and the first laugh. And it wasn't a loud one, either. Max just snickered a little, blinking once and continuing to look off into the distance. I sighed and flicked him on the shoulder.

"You know, with your sense of humor I figured you'd be rolling on the floor by now."

"No, that was funny. I've just learned to calm down with these kinds of things." He turned to me with genuine intrigue. "Did you make that up yourself?"

"Of course not. I'm pretty sure it's a classic, I just knew you probably never heard it before. So, you're welcome."

"Oh, I'm not sure how I could have even lived without hearing it," he fired back, his tone dry but his gaze amused and warm. He pinched a small patch of my sleeve between his thumb and forefinger, as if about to tug me along in some new direction. But he didn't change his pace; he was just feeling the cloth, making sure I was still there. Abandonment issues, I found myself guessing. Whether he realizes it or not, it's probably something like that.

After about a mile, we stopped dead at a street corner and I knew exactly why. With dawn about to arrive, and just enough light provided to see the white lines on the road clearly, Max had spotted a conspicuous trail of footprints leading off to the grassy hillside before us. There was no way of telling who they belonged to, or even what kind of a person unless you're really acquainted with shoes. This was the case for neither of us. I looked up at the sky for a brief moment, praying to whoever was up there that this decision wouldn't be any worse than the ones I'd made so far, and grabbed Max's hand.

"So...we're following these, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I was just about to say—"

"Even if it doesn't lead to your family?"

He paused. I could hear something start to click in his brain. Or maybe it was more of a soft beeping noise. Either way, he gave a feeble attempt at brushing it off before moving forward again.

"If it's not the right way, I'll know by tomorrow. Let's go."

[MASQ]

The trail would fade away into the dirt and then spring back every now and then, so much so that it made me wonder if we were even following the same person at this point. Hodek, strangely, wasn't deterred. It all only made him more curious, which was something you didn't see every day from a person like him. I was beginning to grow tired by the time we reached a wide, ring-like clearing surrounded by trees with only one noticeable path out. The footprints took a sharp left turn from there, but we stopped once more. This time, I couldn't tell why until I spotted a figure completely shrouded in shadow on the other side of the clearing. And it looked like they spotted us, too.

Immediately, I dropped our sling of books on the ground and kicked them to the side. Things might have been about to get messy. My eyes had adjusted to the dark hours ago, but I still couldn't make out anything except this person's silhouette. They were brandishing only a small pocket knife, their armed hand almost shaking. It didn't seem to me like they were wounded, and they didn't even look afraid of us. If anything, they were confused. Maybe even angry.

I looked to Hodek for some sort of explanation, but he stared blankly ahead as if he were just as in the dark. He started reaching into his pocket, but before he could draw anything the person spoke in low tones.

"You again."

Whatever wind was making the trees shiver in the night came to an abrupt stop. I got the feeling something horrible was about to happen, though at this point I wasn't sure whether I could even trust my intuition anymore.

"How many times...do I have to kill you?"