Truth

Silence fell as Tim watched Rachel smoke, gently probing his wound to make sure it hadn’t gone too deep. It seemed pretty superficial, split the fat along his side about eight inches long and half an inch deep. He’d live. Rachel started rubbing her hands clean of the blood, switching the cigarette from hand to hand to rub the other along the gravel and dirt that lay on the surface of the rock beneath them. After a little while of this she threw her cigarette off the side of the mountain and got to her feet, dust and thin streaks of blood patterning her jeans. She slid her hands all the way down her legs, rubbing them clean the whole way. Once her hands had encircled her ankles she let go and stood.

“Lets go.”

“You fucking killed that person.” Someone had to say it.

“Yeah.” She met his gaze, flat. “That was pretty fucking awesome.”

She kicked the body one last time on the way by and headed to the stairs they had tried to rest at just a few minutes ago.