Chapter 50

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My hand was warm. Even through my glove, I could feel the warm blood seeping into the fabric. I tried wiping it off in the snow as I untied the woman's shoelaces, but my hands shook too much to do it properly.

Ray picked up the dead man's backpack, but no other sounds were heard over the shuffling of fabric and heavy breathing. My own breathing sounded ragged and harsh to my own ears.

It's just adrenalin.

Ray stepped back as I moved to the man's boots. I heard rather than saw another person move to collect the dropped weapons. When I did look up, it was to see Neveah's somber face. Her expression was pinched, but her eyes gave nothing away.

I had to do it.

"Let's get back to the diner," I said as I slid the man's second boot off of his limp foot.

I didn't look at anyone when I stood. My eyes focused on the snow as I reorganized the shoes in my arms and put my empty gun in my waistband. I stared at the clean path of footprints we'd made and how they had intersected with the trio's. It felt like if I studied the trails we'd left for long enough, they'd tell a story – the story of what had been done here.

They would have killed us.

"Let's go," I ordered, moving when no one else did.

I walked past my group with my head held high and started the march back through the snow. They followed without protest and it gave me the chance to release a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding.

We had run what had felt like a great distance, but the walk back felt longer. I studied the sideroads as we went, looking for other signs of life as we passed. I nearly tripped over myself when I did spot people.

They were far off, no more than specks of the horizon at the end of a very long, flat road. There were at least a few of them, but they didn't seem to be in any rush. It was hard to tell what direction they were moving from their distance, but I figured they had heard us and were trying to make a decision about what to do next.

For a heartbeat, I considered confronting them. However, My gun needed to be reloaded and we had just gotten a fresh supply of goods. With the distance they had on us, it wasn't worth it.

"What's that?" Carlos asked. He sounded exhausted and I instantly regretted bringing him. He should have been resting while we handled the situation.

Should've brought Prisha and made her deal with it.

"Nothing we need to worry about."

When we got to the diner, I swung open the front door, making the occupants inside jump. Without stopping, I moved over to the nearest table and dropped the shoes on top.

"We heard shots, are you guys... you've got blood on you." Prisha's voice sounded strained and I looked up to see her pursed lips twist into a tight frown.

I wiped at my face with my sleeve, wondering if there had been blood splatter from when I'd shot the man. "Thanks," I stated plainly. "Hayden, Carlos's boots are too big, right? Take these and give yours back to Carlos."

The teen took some time to move, but he eventually sat down and began unlacing his boots. Carlos stood by him awkwardly as though he was unsure what to do with the turn of events.

"Misty, can you and Prisha go through the new bags and distribute the goods? You can decide amongst yourselves who takes what."

"Sure," Misty answered quietly, keeping her tone measured.

They are just stressed. They'll understand.

I picked up the woman's boots and moved to a table at the far end of the diner before sitting down. It took me a bit of effort to remove my gloves, but I was able to wiggle them off and place them on the table. I began to take my wet sneakers off when the worst of the tension broke and the others began to talk in hushed whispers.

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