Cold Blood

❥Chapter Thirteen❥

Written by ChemicalWonderland

Everett's POV

By the late afternoon, Ash had managed to get out of bed, groggily wandering downstairs with heavy footsteps.

"How you doing?" I ask casually, concern lacing my voice. I was sprawled across the couch in the living room, reading a newspaper on my and Ash's killings.

He grumbles incoherently, running a hand through his greasy, tousled black hair, before mumbling, "Fine. Just fine."

I don't believe him, but pretend that I do anyway, flashing a smile. "Hungry?"

He nods vigorously. I get up from my spot on the couch and head into the kitchen, tile cold beneath my feet. I pull open some cabinets and proceed to make a sandwich as Ash watches me from the doorway. The silence is torture.

"So," I begin nonchalantly, "do you feel in the mood to kill anyone?"

"I don't know. I feel kinda emotionally disconnected right now," he replies slowly.

"Okay."

Finishing the sandwich, I put it on a paper plate and slide it across the counter toward Ash.

"Thanks," he says, picking up the sandwich. He inspects the contents of it for a few seconds before stuffing almost the entire thing in his mouth.

"Ash!" I exclaim, "don't eat so fast! You're going to get sick!"

He stops eating and stares at me blankly. "What?"

Rolling my eyes at him, I shake my head and mutter a quick "nevermind".

He laughs, face lit up with a shimmer of happiness. Joy fills my stomach, glad that he doesn't have such a hopeless look on his face anymore. Sunlight filters in through a kitchen window, casting glistening light across his sparkling green eyes.

"Thanks for making me lunch," he says.

"You're welcome."

I walk back into the living room, where my heavy boots are laying beside the couch. I slip into them quickly and plop down onto the couch. Resting my elbows on my knees and bringing my hands to my chin, I say, "I think I'm going to go out. Will you be okay here by yourself?"

"Yeah, yeah. That's fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's totally okay."

"Well, there's a few things before I go. If anyone comes by the house, contact me immediately. I don't want you initiating violence with anyone in your state. And make sure all the doors are locked," I list off.

Ash looks at me as if I'm joking. "What? Everett, I'm not your kid!"

"I-I know that. But after your little episode this morning, I'm worried okay? That's all," I retort somewhat defensively.

He gives me a mocking look before sauntering off back into the kitchen, muttering a dismissive, "Whatever."

Once he's completely disappeared, I turn toward the duffel bag I have beside me. I had planned out a bag with some weapons and other materials in them, hoping to get an opportunity to use them today. I sling it over my shoulder and head for the front door. The weather is warm enough that I figure I won't need a coat, my shirt is good enough. Yanking open the front door, I step out onto the porch steps and lock the door behind me.

Today is sunny, an expanse of blue above me. Birds occasionally chirp in the humid air over the forest. The porch creaks beneath me, sagging and old, so I step off the decrepit wood quickly because I don't want to risk breaking it.