Re: Jack and Louis: Hunting - No. 14
Jack thought momentarily of the mulled crowds of people who'd drifted off in partnerships of two: there was no one who would come to rescue his hide from rotting within the circle of boards on immediate thought and the hollow note in Louis's voice held little promise that the man would be rescued (and thus Jack by virtue of proximity).
But the pause as Jack turned toward Louis was enough to dispel the... illusion? Was that what it was? It had been physical entity only seconds before, he'd thrown his own weight against it, Louis had done the same, it couldn't be the product of his own beleaguered mind. He hadn't drowned it in days.
If this was mist again, for god's sake, he couldn't live through it in company again.
But the boards were gone in the next second and Jack blinked into the sky that bloomed bruise-colored dusk above the fingers of the trees. "What are you looking a--"
And he felt his blood curdle with dread, an icy drip along the line of his vertebrae. "Good idea. Moving. Now." Where, exactly, Jack had no bloody idea. The town was dead, the long arm of the law out searching for easter eggs, most likely.
"That way." A direction chosen, and Jack's chosen pace was march-like.