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--donation bonus (day #3, post 3/5)--
“Gah... I’m burning through clothes like toilet paper...” Hector felt something in his head shift, and then realized it was just Garovel’s presence.

‘Did I hear... you found Colt...?’

‘Yeah. Bohwanox thinks he’s here. How are you feeling?’

‘Vaguely conscious...’

‘Y-you will recover, right?’

‘Yeah... don’t worry... But what will you do about... um... ugh...’

‘Garovel?’

‘Wha?’

‘You were saying something.’

‘Oh. Are you going to just let Colt go? He’s still a... uh... a murder...’

‘I know... And I’d like to put him in prison, but... that’d be a death sentence. Even assuming the other inmates wouldn’t kill him just for being a cop... Geoffrey’s gunning for him now.’

‘Ah... good thinking...’

‘I also don’t know what would become of his kids. I mean... would they actually be safe in foster care? Or with their mother? Who is she, even? Or is there someone else who--?’

‘Okay, shut up. I stopped listening... Handle it on your own...’

He exhaled a curt laugh. ‘Rest up, jackass.’

Soon, Bohwanox returned. ‘Found him. He’s parked around back.’

Hector followed the reaper through an abandoned terrace, paint peeling off the walls in large, leafing flakes. The ones on the floor stuck to his feet as he passed from dark room to dark room and finally out into a musty alley.

Colt spotted him immediately and took a moment to lower his gun. “Holy fuck, kid. I thought I looked like shit. What happened to you? Did you bathe in Geoffrey’s fuckin’ blood?”

“No... this is all mine...”

“Wait. You didn’t kill Geoffrey? Don’t tell me you let him live ‘cuz of some bleeding heart bullshit. I swear, that fucking kid deserved--”