ᴡᴏʀꜱʜɪᴘ ᴍᴇ (ᴇᴊ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

8: Roadtrip

Jack sat across from you with his hands clasped together. The rest of the world had faded away, your whole focus being on Jack. This whole time you'd never taken your sight off of him. Your heart was still pounding in your ears as you stared into each other's eyes, or at least the area, and the room had grown colder with each tense moment. You were afraid to speak. You were afraid to do anything. Just sitting with him and seeing him so clearly had you shaking. From his mask, to his gloves, to just the air around him you saw how different things were. You both were unrecognizable in different ways, you'd become different people.

And yet you still felt as scared as you had back then. Back when you'd had to rub the blood off of his face so that he could see, or help him sit up to eat. You'd been so close to him, yet still helpless. You'd believed so strongly in the cult's teachings you hadn't let yourself think. Even when you'd wanted to help, you hadn't let yourself, and that was something you'd never forgive yourself for.

"I assume you know the cult members' names?" Jack's voice cut through the silence. "I need you to tell me them."

Your mouth went dry. "...Everyone's?" Even your voice shook as you spoke.

He stared at you silently for a moment. "No. I need the ones who were in charge." His posture seemed to stiffen as he waited for an answer. You could never tell what he was thinking, but you could feel the anger radiating off of him. You were just glad it didn't currently seem to be aimed at you.

You gulped nervously as several different questions gnawed at your mind. "How did you find me then...?"

Jack leaned back and crossed his arms. "The information was public. You admitted what you did to the police, however, the leaders that survived did not."

You looked down at the table. They hadn't? Why? How? That meant no one had mentioned them during the interviews. Or if they had, no one had thought to follow up on it. Maybe that was the real reason the news only ever talked about Father Gray and Jenny. Because the others had just gotten away with it. Because they'd moved on and pretended like nothing ever happened like they were innocent. Your stomach churned with disgust. You didn't even know what kind of punishment they could have gotten if they'd have even gotten one at all, but at least the police would have been aware. At least-

"It looks like you see what I'm getting at." He interrupted your thoughts, tilting his head. "So do you remember their names?"

Reforming eye contact, you nodded slowly. You did. You remembered everyone from the committee. Their faces were still clear in your mind's eye, you even still remembered seeing some of them around your college campus. It would be easy for you to help him, yet if you did you'd be sending them to the slaughter.

You knew all too well why Jack wanted them dead. When you first started seeing Alicia, she'd tried to redirect your anger at the committee rather than yourself. They had been the ones to manipulate everyone, the ones that had led you all into their madness. Alicia's plan had worked, at least partially. A part of you did hate them, but another part of you didn't know what it felt. And that part was scared of what he'd do to them if you coughed up their names.

Your head was spinning. You owed Jack, you knew you did. None of you could just go back to the way things were, to before the sacrifice. The survivors could pretend all they wanted that things were fine, but for Jack that wasn't an option. He'd survived, but the cult had stolen his life. He was dead to the world, and with his less-than-human features, he couldn't exactly just step outside and walk around. Even if Jack wanted to he couldn't move on, and you could guess that was why he was doing this.