Epilogue

Epilogue 3.05

---Crawford---

     We sit around the campfire, imagining frankfurters and roasted marshmallows. At least I am. Can't help it. When hunger's on the mind, it's hard to think about much else.

     Em and Comma haven't made it back yet. I can tell that some of us—without naming names—are thinking they won't ever be coming back. I can't exactly blame them. But the rest of us, those who've been with this group long enough, know better.

     "They're probably just lost," says Mya, leaning her head on Edgar's shoulder. My eyes start to water—on account of the smoke that's blowing into them, of course. I'll bet that conniving fire mage made the smoke blow that way on purpose.

     "And no one thinks we should do something about that?" Ace stares us down. "We don't know what's out there. They could have..." He takes a deep breath and rises to his feet. "I'm going to go look for them."

     Liluye grabs him by the wrist and pulls him back down. "You're not going anywhere," she says, her voice wavering. The rest she says via a series of confounding facial expressions—ever the silent type.

     I've got to admit, she scares me a little. They both do—she and Em. The rippers. It's different from Rex and Comma. We know they aren't human, nor have they ever been. But the rippers—they're us. Or at least that's how they started out. As for what they're becoming...

     Ace breaks free from Liluye's grip and steps over Topher, who passed out about an hour ago.

     "Ace!" she calls after him, but he's already vanished into the darkness of the woods.

     "I'll go talk some sense into him," says Edgar, wriggling away from Mya, like he doesn't even appreciate what he's got. I've never wished ill on my fellow man (except on the internet), but if he's the next of us to meet a bad end, I won't put up a fuss.

     Nature calls before I can even fully process that thought. "If you ladies will excuse me," I say, much to the chagrin of Jun, who I forgot was still here. Oh, and there's the demon, too, but he's not even listening. He just stares at the flames, probably plotting our murders. With that reassuring thought in mind, I head off to take a leak, seeking privacy behind a bone tree.

     After I've zipped up, I have at the tree with my ice pick—got to let off the steam somehow. The ice pick scratching up against the bone makes this screechy whine that makes me want to puncture my ear drums. Deciding that my venting is counterproductive, I decide to go catch up with Ace. Edgar's got no sensibility, and Ace is a bit of a loose cannon. If Edgar tries to dissuade him, it'll probably just piss him off. Not that I'm the diplomatic type, but someone's got to do damage control.

     I hurry through the woods, and by hurry, I mean walk at a moderate pace. I'm not exactly made of energy these days, am I?

     I hear their voices before I can see them.

     "All I'm saying is, going out to look for them is reckless, from where I'm standing." That's Edgar. You have to wonder how he can even manage to see where he's standing with his head so far up his own ass.

     "Without them—"

     "We wouldn't be here. I know. And would that really be such a bad thing?"

     I flatten my back up against a tree, bumping into it in the process. I break out in a sweat, but they don't seem to have noticed my fumbling, as they continue with their conversation.