Walking back, he saw something shining in the dark. The knife. Bending down to pick it up, he noticed the serrated blade was covered in some sort of liquid—not his blood. He picked it up by the handle and smelled it. His eyes teared up, and pain spread in his nose. Snorting and sneezing, he held the knife as far away from him as he could.
Whatever it was it must be the explanation to why the wound hadn’t been healing. His thoughts flashed to Arlo, and an icy fist curled around his heart.
He’d left Arlo unprotected.
The sky was turning rosy by the horizon as he ran back, knife still in hand. He had to lie down flat on the ground at one point to hide from a passing car, but, other than that, he made it back okay. When he passed Gilbert’s house Ellis’ car was gone so he put the knife on Gilbert’s stairs knowing the door would be locked but also knowing Gilbert would scent him there once he unlocked it again.
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