THE RUN AND GO : JOSHLER

29 : GOODBYE

Josh waited for the sharp, familiar blast of a bullet leaving a gun, but it never came.

Tyler exhaled and sunk back onto his haunches. His heart was beating so fast he thought it might burst right out of his chest.

Josh was shaking so much the gun fell right out of his hand and clattered to the floor. He clutched at his chest, balling the fabric of his shirt in his fist, and collapsed.

It was a blank.

"Josh, get up," a familiar, broken voice said. "It's my turn now."

Josh's head was spinning as he pushed himself back up into a kneeling position. Still in a daze, he reached down and grabbed the revolver lying on the stage.

"Alright, Mad Gear's turn," Melanie smiled that same insane, completely-out-of-her-mind smile and clapped her hands.

"Let's hope this time it's the actual bullet," Halsey muttered to Kat, who crossed her arms and nodded.

"H-How..." Josh began, his voice coming out as a quiet little squeak. "How do I...?"

He glanced at Tyler, and Kobra Kid followed his eyes. He scowled at him before realizing what Josh had meant.

He walked over to Tyler, black boots clicking on the stage as he walked, and kneeled behind him. Still scowling, he produced a small switchblade from his jacket pocket.

Tyler bit his lip to stifle his groan when Kobra Kid roughly pulled him closer by the back of his shirt.

He held Tyler down and, using his switchblade, he sawed at the thick black rope binding his hands together until it finally cut.

Tyler let out a sigh of relief as soon as the rope fell off his wrists. He stretched his arms above his head, and winced when he heard his bones crack.

Josh spared a glance at Tyler's wrists, as ugly and painful as they looked. The skin was completely red, both from the blood dripping down Tyler's arms and the rope chafing relentlessly against his skin.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Josh thought he saw a bit of bone sticking out. He gagged.

Tyler brought his hands in front of him. He kept clenching his fingers open and closed, open and closed. He stared at them in awe, as if he was surprised he still had them.

Slowly, shakily, Josh handed Tyler the revolver.

Tyler took the gun into his bloody hands. He simply held it for a while, watching the blood dripping off his chin splatter on to the weapon.

Licking his lips, he slowly flicked his eyes up to Josh's.

Tyler set his jaw and raised the gun. A million thoughts raced through his brain, but he could only seem to grasp one:

Josh's pale, lifeless body, lying in a pool of his own blood. His eyes would still be open, Tyler thought. They would stare at him, the spark and life all gone from those sparkling hazel eyes.

And it would all be his fault.

A single tear slipped down his cheek as he loaded the gun.