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Grian was running. They had to be here somewhere.
“Why did I let them go on their own?” Grian and Scar had let Joel and Scott go after Ren alone.
“The last of The Hobbits, the only person with no loyalties, gone!”
Dog. Grian ran past a dog, sitting patiently for its master, and then another, and another, more and more the more as he ran.
“Joel!” Last time Grian had seen Joel, he’d had like forty dogs with him.
Grian came to a small valley, he dug his axe in as he slid down the steep slope. Well it wasn't his axe, it was Martyn’s, but no one had their own gear, except Scar, and hopefully Joel. Grian saw a flash of blue on the other side of a ridge.
“Scott?” Grian came over the top of the ridge. Scott was lying almost face down in the ditch. The grass beneath him was red
“He’s fine,” Grian lied to the dog next to him. The dog had his nose gently pressed into Scott’s bright blue hair.
“It’s late, been a long day, he’s just resting.” Grian sat down next to Scott, curled his knees into his chest. He looked at his wrist. The faint yellow glow coming from underneath Grian’s sweater highlighted the grey colour of the band around Scott’s wrist, and the lights floating around his head.
“Scott, Big B’s betrayed me, Cleo’s dead. I can't find Joel. You're my last friend in this thing. Don’t be dead.”
Grian sat there all night. Scott didn’t wake up. Grian worked up his nerve and did it. Joel's dog whimpered as Grian rolled Scott over. There was a large stab wound in his chest. Scott’s hand crackled as he moved.
“Crackled?” Grian carefully unclenched Scott’s closed fist. In it was a blood stained note.
It read:
Dear finder of my corpse.
If you’ve found this I am dead. These are my final wishes.
I wish to be buried, in the flower kingdom, next to my husband Jimmy.
Tell my friends that I will keep an eye on them, and to avenge me.
If you are finding this because you killed me. Please tell the others that it was you who killed me.
Scribbled across the bottom was something that made Grian angry, very very angry. Ren had drawn a crown at the bottom, a crown with dog ears. Written in what looked like blood was Ren’s phrase of intimidation: Red Winter is Coming.
“Ren is going to pay for this.” Joel’s dog dropped a second sheet of paper into Grian’s lap. Joel had written something on it.
“My debt is paid.” Grain read. A tear rolled down his cheek as he picked up Scott’s body. As Grian struggled up the steep hill out of the valley a creeper came up in front of him. Grain panicked and nearly fell backwards.
“Ahh! Not again!”
An arrow came out of nowhere and killed the creeper. A poppy was curled around the arrow.
Grain looked in the direction the arrow came from. A translucent figure lowered his bow. The figure wiped the blood off of his face with the sleeve of his jean jacket.
“Scott?” Grain whimpered.
The figure saluted. Grain noticed a poppy in the figure’s blue hair.
“Thanks Scott.” Grain saluted back. A figure, dressed in a white red and blue onesie, came up the back of the hill the blue figure was on, and put his arm around the blue figure.
“Tim?” Grain’s foot started to slip, he quickly scrambled up the hill, Scott’s corpse weighing him down. By the time he looked back at the hill, the figures were gone.
“Ren is going down.”