Chapter 7: Abomination
Deaton explained that it was Chris Argent that brought the body to the clinic.
"They're coming back so we don't have much time."
Scott saw that Deaton seemed to be preparing something. Pouring something on a swab. "What is that?" he asked.
"Rubbing Alcohol," he answered with a small smile. "You don't want it to get infected, don't you?"
Scott shook his head. "No."
He then started to clean his wound. "It'll heal the same. Just not as quickly because of Derek."
Scott looked over at him. "Okay. How do you know this? How do you know anything?"
Deaton went to get some tape and gauze and applied to Scott. "It's a long story. But I can tell you that I know about your kind. Your kind, I can help." He finished sealing Scott's wound up before looking back to the body. "This. This is something different."
Scott took a good look at the body and saw that the claw marks on it seemed to be bigger and deeper than anything he'd seen from a werewolf's claws. "Do you know what did it?"
Deaton shook his head. "No, but the Argents will. And this is the crucial part. They'll have some kind of record or book. It'll have descriptions, histories, notations of all the things they've discovered."
Scott's eyes widened. "All the things? How many different things are there?"
But the sound of cars pulling up and doors opening and closing kept Deaton from answering. Scott picked up a familiar scent of a certain hunter coming closer.
Chris Argent opened the door to the clinic and he and his men started to walk in and stumbled on Deaton looking at the body. He looked over at them. "I'm starting to think that I need to buy a more prominent Closed sign."
Chris just moved on in to make way for Gerard. "Hello Alan," he said. "It's been a while. Last I heard, you were retired."
"And last I heard you followed a code of conduct," he said slightly scolding.
"If you hadn't noticed, this one is one of ours," Chris said pointedly.
Alan wasn't fazed by his tone. "I did. I also noticed the gunpowder residue on his fingertips. And I also heard about three men, with questionably violent histories, who recently had matching scratches done to the side of each of their faces. So don't assume that I'll be swayed by your philosophy just because I'll answer a few questions."
"He was only 24," Chris argued.
But Deaton just stared back at him. "Killers come in all ages."
"All ages, sizes, shapes," cut in Gerard. "It's the last one that concerns us."
"How about you tell us what you found?" asked Chris.
Scott was behind the door of the next room, listening intently to everything going on. He heard Deaton stepping closer to the body. Deaton moved the neck of the dead young man to the side to point over to a thin slit that was made there.
"See this cut? Precise. Almost surgical. But this isn't the wound that killed him. This had a more…interesting purpose."
"Relating to the spine?" asked Gerard.
Deaton nodded. "That's right. Whatever made this cut was laced with a paralytic toxin. Potent enough to disable all motor functions." He then ran his hand over the scars on the chest. "These are the cause of death. Notice the pattern on each side?"
"Five for each finger," said Chris.
"Each claw," Gerard said correcting him.
"As you can see it dug in and slashed upward," Deaton made his hands provide a visual aid. "Eviscerated the lungs and cutting through the bone of the ribcage with ease."
"Ever seen anything like this before?"
Deaton shook his head at Chris. "No."
"Any idea at all what killed him?" he asked.
"No," Deaton said. "But I can tell you that fast, remarkably strong, and has the capacity to render its victims helpless in seconds."
Chris gave him a look. "If you're saying that we should be cautious, we get it."
"I'm saying that you should be afraid. Very afraid. Because in the natural world predators with paralytic toxins use them to catch and eat their prey. This prey, wasn't eaten. That means that whatever killed him only wanted to kill him. In fact…killing might be its only purpose."
Scott was officially freaked now.
Stiles had managed to get his jeep to the garage and had been waiting for over an hour. Which was unusual to him since the guy said he could work on it right away and for what was wrong with it shouldn't have taken more than a half hour at most. He went into the garage to see the mechanic with a drill underneath his jeep.
"Hey," he said walking over to him. "Hey! What do you think you're doing? All I needed was the starter." It was clear to him that the guy was doing something to his jeep that had nothing to do with replacing what Erica had snapped off.
"Yeah, but it looks like your whole exhaust system's got to be replaced."
Stiles let out a frustrated huff. "Why do I get the feeling you're slightly overestimating the damage."
The guy just kept at it. "It's probably going to run around like…1200. Parts and labor."
Stiles grit his teeth. "Are you kidding?" This guy was trying to swindle him. "This thing doesn't even have a catalytic converter. And yes, I know what a catalytic converter is."
The guy finally looked at him. "You know what a luminous sub differential is?"
Stiles froze. "No."
"Yeah, it's going to be more like 1500."
Stiles sighed in defeat. "Fine. Just finish. I'll be back here…fighting primal bloodlust and rage," he added quietly. Stiles went to go back to the office when his hand caught something on the doorknob. It looked like some kind of…goop. Stiles was disgusted. "Nice…real sanitary. Quality establishment you're running here!" he shouted before moving on inside. His eyes fell to the wall where he saw a picture of the guy in a lacrosse uniform with the number 1 on it. He was smirking in a way that annoyingly resembled Jackson. "Figures," he said with a roll of his eyes. He pulled out his phone to text his father to come to the garage to help him settle this guy's bill when he found his fingers weren't moving. "What the?" He was trying to move them but they weren't bending in the slightest. And, then the stiffness spread to his hands. His phone fell from his palm as Stiles tried to lift his arms but he found them starting to get heavy. He raised his head to yell to the mechanic when his eyes widened. He caught sight of a clawed hand coming into the low light and soon saw what looked like a giant reptilian…thing. Stiles realized that it was the creature that Scott had told him about. It was here…and it was stalking the mechanic. "Hey," he called out to warn him. "Hey!"
But the creature went over and clawed at the guy's neck. The mechanic reached back and tried to see what did it when he quickly fell down barely a second later.
"Hey!" Stiles said when he saw him fall. He tried to move to help him when he got only a step out before he himself collapsed. His body was feeling numb and he found that he couldn't move very well. It was like he was stunned or paralyzed. Stiles found that he still had some feeling in his legs and upper arms. He used them to try to push himself across the floor. He moved for the door, close to where his phone had dropped and had a view of the garage.
The mechanic was lying on the ground, completely helpless. Suddenly, the lift that his jeep was on started to slowly be brought down. The mechanic was directly below it. Stiles saw that his car was going to crush the guy and that he couldn't seem to move in the slightest. Stiles guessed it was from getting clawed by that thing but he didn't understand why he couldn't move as the thing didn't even touch him. Until he remembered that this problem started with his hands, after he came in contact with that stuff on the door. Stiles guessed it would be a matter of time before he was completely immobile. He went to his phone and tried hard to fight the paralysis to dial 911. He managed to make the call before he was completely still. He heard the mechanic crying out for help as the car got closer to him. Stiles found that he couldn't look away and watched clearly as his jeep impaled the guy with a sickening thud.
The next instant, that thing came up to him and Stiles got an up close look at it. It caught his eyes and snarled at him. Stiles whimpered before the thing then ran off.
Scott retreated to his and Allison's special meeting place. After the night he'd had he was looking forward to just being with Allison and letting it all leak away. He checked his phone and found that it was 9pm but Allison was nowhere in sight. He guessed that she was a little held up sneaking away tonight. He prepared to settle in to wait a while when his phone rang. He checked the caller id and then picked up.
"Stiles?"
"Scott," his friend said quickly. "I'm at the garage over at 25th Street. I need you to come and pick me up."
"What? Why?"
"You know that thing that you told me about. That creature you saw. I saw it."
Scott's eyes widened. The thing that killed that hunter he saw at Deaton's. Stiles saw it. "Wait, at the garage?"
"Yes. Now, I need you to pick me up and give me a ride home. I'll tell you more when you get here."
"Stiles…why do you need me to drive you home? What happened to your jeep?"
"It's…kind of covered with blood right now. Look, just get here please."
Scott looked around. "Now?"
"Yes, now Scott." There was a small pause. "Unless you have something more important to do?" Stiles tone was clearly pointed, even over the phone.
Scott let out a sigh. He really didn't want to leave but it was clear that he had no choice.
Allison made her way to her car and breathed onto the window to reveal Scott's message for 9pm. She saw that she was going to be late so she felt that she should get going until her grandfather Gerard came around, startling her.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he said when she stepped out of the car.
"It's okay," she said. "I was just…"
Gerard gave her a small smile. "Are you expecting someone else?"
"Yeah. I mean no," she said a bit quickly. "Definitely not."
Gerard smiled. "Good…then we can talk for a minute." Gerard went into his pocket when he accidently knocked a leather bound book from his pocket to the floor. Alison went and reached for it to give it back to him. "Thanks. Don't want to drop that. I'd be lost without it." He then pulled out his pill case. "When I was your age I didn't even take vitamins. Now I'm choking down a cocktail of pills three times a day," he said before swallowing them. "But I do what my doctor tells me because I trust him. Trust is a commodity that our family holds very high you know. And my daughter, your Aunt Kate, died doing what she thought was right. Her intentions may have been a bit misguided-"
"A bit?" Allison cut him off.
But that only made him smile at her. "I like that. You remind me of her," he said lovingly. "She challenged me too."
But Allison rolled her eyes. "Is that what you want me to do? Challenge you?"
"I want you to trust me. You're going to find yourself put in the position where you question the trust of people close to you, even your closest friends. And when that happens, you have to know…the trust you never question is family. Can I trust you Allison?"
"Yeah," she let out.
"Not yeah," Gerard spat losing his calm poise. "Speak with conviction. Yes or No?"
Allison looked up at Gerard and her face hardened. "Yes," she said loud and clearly. "You can trust me."
Allison soon left Gerard and headed for her and Scott's meeting place. She saw that she was nearly twenty minutes late but found no sign of him. What she did find was message waiting for her at the rock telling her that he couldn't wait and he missed her. She wondered what happened to make him not wait for her.
Over at the garage, Stiles was sitting in the back of the ambulance with his dad. When he called 911, he managed to regain enough feeling in himself to yell that there was a murder at the garage's address. By the time the police and paramedics arrived, he was able to be on his feet again…somewhat. His father soon found his way to him and calmly asked him what had happened.
"I told you, I just walked in and I saw the jeep on top of the guy. That's all."
His dad saw that Stiles was rubbing his hand with precision. "What's wrong with your hand?"
"Nothing," he said giving it a shake to pass it off as it just being a bit asleep. "Can I just get out of here now?"
"Look," his dad sighed. "If there's something that you don't think you can tell me."
"You think I'm lying?" Stiles asked.
"No, of course not," his dad said quickly. "I'm just worried about you. And if you saw someone do this and you're afraid that they're going to come back and make sure that you don't say anything about it-"
"Dad, I think I've proven that that kind of thing doesn't faze me." His dad's face showed that he wasn't relieved about that in the slightest. He guessed his track record due to the hunters was starting to weigh on his dad's peace of mind and he couldn't add more to it. Not now. "I didn't see anything. At all." He looked over to see that Scott had arrived. "Can I go now please?"
His dad let out a breath but nodded. "Yeah…okay. But, your jeep has to stay. It's evidence." He then started to get up and head back into the garage. "I'll see you at home."
"Yeah, I kind of figured. Just make sure they clean it when you're done okay?" Stiles called out after him. He then made his way over to Scott's car and got in.
"You okay?" Scott asked as soon as he got in.
"Yeah. You were right. It's not like us. It's eyes…were almost reptilian. But there was something about him," he said staring off ahead.
"What do you mean?"
"You know…how you see a friend in a Halloween mask but all you actually see is their eyes. But still, you feel like you know who it is."
Scott's mouth opened a bit. "Are you saying you know who it is?"
Stiles shook his head. "No. But, I think it knew me," he said meeting Scott's eyes with his own nervous ones.
Scott honestly didn't know what to make of that.
It was the early morning and Derek had all three of his betas be at his place bright and early for a new training regime. Isaac was up first and he tried to charge at Derek. He hoped off the walls and columns along the way as a weak attempt to try and confuse him but Derek easily rendered it worthless by slamming him to the floor. Isaac tried again and again but Derek easily countered it with the same level of ease. Most likely because Isaac was repeating the same moves over and over again. After about ten times, Erica hopped out from the shadows to jump him from behind but Derek grabbed her and threw her to land right beside Isaac. Boyd was off to the side, just watching with nervous fascination.
Derek shook his head and rolled his eyes. He was less than impressed. Both Isaac and Erica fought against Scott and Stiles and both of them were taken out by them with ease. His betas had barely made a mark on either of them before they were taken out. While they may have had more time with their transformations, the two of them were Omegas while Isaac and Erica were betas. While winning was still possible for them, it shouldn't have been as easy as how they had done it.
"Does anyone want to try not being completely predictable?" he asked a little cynically. He got his answer when Erica suddenly jumped him and gave him a hard kiss. Derek grabbed onto Erica's shoulders and then threw her off of him. "That's the last time you do that." he said wiping at his mouth.
Erica glared up at him. "Why? Because I'm a beta?"
Derek rolled his eyes at her. "No. Because I think I have someone else in mind for you." That made Erica glare drop a bit in confusion.
"Are we done?" Isaac gasped out. "Because I've got about a hundred bones that need a few hours to heal," he said forcing himself into a sitting position.
Derek sighed and then went over to him. He bent down and offered his hand to him. Isaac took it, thinking that he was going to help him up, but Derek too it and quickly twisted it back. Isaac screamed out but couldn't move far as Derek kept a firm hold on him.
"One hundred and one," he hissed at the kid. "You think I'm teaching you how to fight? Huh? Look at me!" Though he was shouting at Isaac it was clear that he was talking to Erica and Boyd as well and they looked freaked. "I'm teaching you how to survive!" He then went and threw Isaac down as he got up and walked off a bit.
Isaac rolled a bit as he stared up at him. "If they want us dead then why aren't they coming after us? What are they waiting for?
"I don't know," he said. "They're planning something but, you especially, know that isn't our only problem. Whatever is the thing that killed Isaac's father, I think it killed someone else again last night. And until I find out what it is, you all need to learn everything that I know. As fast as I could teach you."
Lydia's mother entered her daughter's room and gave the door a knock. "Time to get up!" she called out.
But Lydia stayed under her covers. "Oh, go away."
She didn't. "You're going to be late for your appointment with the school counselor. Remember? We had a deal."
"Remember? I told you I was fine," Lydia counter argued.
"Lydia, please," her mother said before moving in to lift the covers off her. And when she did she gave a shout. They were stained with blood. "What did you do?"
She checked Lydia to find that her hand was bloodied at around her knuckles. Lydia looked off and noticed that her mirror was cracked and there was blood in the middle of it. It looked like Lydia had punched her hand through it.
Lydia couldn't resist it anymore and was brought straight to wait in front of the counselor's office. But she wasn't alone. There was someone else there. A boy.
"Nice gloves," he said looking down at the pink gloves that Lydia was wearing to hide the injury to her hands.
"Thank you," she smiled before going back to just waiting in silence.
But the boy didn't want to leave her alone. "So, what's your brand of psychosis?" he amusingly asked.
Lydia turned to look at him. "Really?"
He shrugged. "We're both here for something. We don't have to be ashamed of it."
"I have an acute phobia of people prying into my personal life," she stiffly said to him. "You?"
He nodded. "Compulsively drawn to cute but narcissistic girls," he said back with enough wit to make Lydia taken aback.
The guidance counselor finally stepped outside. "Are you ready Lydia?"
Lydia couldn't walk into her office fast enough. She went into her seat as the guidance counselor, Ms. Morell, went to her desk.
"You're not even French, are you?"
"French Canadian," she said.
"Which means you're Canadian. That speaks French. And seeing as I'm putting my mental health in your hands, how about you tell me how being a French teacher qualifies you to be a guidance counselor?"
Ms. Morell didn't seem fazed by Lydia's criticism. "I have a master's in behavioral psychology and I've participated in 300 hours of field work."
"Hmm," Lydia let out before she said something in French.
"If you're really fine then what are you doing here?"
"Appeasing my parents so they don't take away my car keys," she shrugged.
"Have you talked to your friends about what happened to you?"
"Yeah. They're great. Totally supportive," Lydia said.
"Do you trust them?"
"Implicitly," she answered.
Morell nodded her head. "Good. But still, be cautious."
"Why? Because sometimes the people closest to you can be the ones holding you back the most?" she said a little defensively.
Morell stared at her. "Indeed. Did you read that somewhere?"
Lydia narrowed her eyes. "I don't know. Maybe I heard it."
"Well…sounds like whoever said it left an impression."
Scott and Stiles were resting over by some steps in between classes as they started to update each other on what they found. First, Scott was asking if Stiles had delivered his message to Allison since he was sure that it was him that was being watched for near Allison over Stiles.
"Are you sure you put it in her locker?" Scott asked Stiles.
"Yes," Stiles coughed out. "For the third time. It went from my hands, into vent of her locker and was pushed inside. Done. Message was sent."
"And you haven't got an answer back? I need to know she isn't upset about the other night and if she'll be at the game."
"No Scott. Not yet, seeing as how I only put the message in ten minutes ago," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Besides I'm pretty sure she'll be at the game. Everyone's going. Now can we please get to what happened with Deaton already?"
Scott sighed. "Okay, he thinks that Allison's family keeps some kind of record of all the things that they've hunted. Like a book."
Stiles' eyes widened and he clapped in realization. "He probably means a bestiary," he said getting a little excited. And why shouldn't he? Who knows how many things are in something like that belonging to a family in the hunting business for generations?
But Scott just raised his eyebrows. "A what?"
"A bestiary," Stiles repeated.
Scott smirked at him. "I think you mean bestiality," he laughed out.
But Stiles narrowed his eyes. "No. Pretty sure I don't. It's like an encyclopedia of mythical creatures."
Scott narrowed his eyes. Stiles had said that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "How is it that I'm the only one that doesn't seem to know about this stuff?"
Stiles shrugged his shoulders. "I know. Given that we're creatures of the night it should've been a first priority. But still, think about it. A record that's probably hundreds of years old with all sorts of creatures. I mean, if werewolves are real who knows what else out there is? Ghosts? Vampires? Witches?…Bigfoot?" he added as an afterthought.
"Okay," Scott said. "I get it. And if we had it then it might tell us what that thing is."
"And who," Stiles said.
"We need that book," they said together.
The two of them caught each other's eyes.
"But how are we going to talk to Allison about it without anyone seeing us?" Scott asked. "She can't talk, call, text or e-mail us with her parents and grandfather watching her."
Stiles sighed. "Allison's in my next class. I think I have an idea."
They then went off to get to their next class.
Jackson pulled Danny aside in the locker room and presented him the memory card from the camera.
"Hey, I need you to see if you can brighten the resolution on this," he said to him.
Danny reached for it. "Yeah, sure."
But Jackson pulled it back. "Whatever you find…you need to keep it to yourself. Got it?" With him lifting his car, he was sure that the bite must've done something after all. Maybe he did turn on the full moon but it was in a way that was easy to miss on the footage. And he had to make sure that Danny didn't say anything which could let it get out to Scott and Stiles. Or even worse, the Argents.
"What's on it?" Danny asked him.
"It's just…me in my room, in bed."
Danny's eyebrows rose. "I'm supposed to watch you in bed? You do remember those times when I told you that you weren't my type?"
Jackson smirked. "Just do it. Oh, and FYI, I'm everyone's type," he smugly said.
Allison was walking through the quad after class when her phone started ringing in her bag. But she froze. That wasn't her ringtone. She reached into her bag and found that there was someone else's phone. The caller id on the screen said Scott.
"Scott?" she said picking it up.
"Yeah, it's me," she heard him say.
"How?" she asked.
"That would be me," she heard Stiles say. "Slipped my phone in your bag as I passed your desk during History."
"Wow, good idea," she said impressed.
"Allison," Scott said quickly. "I'm sorry about the other night."
"No," she cut in. "It's okay Scott. I was late so you probably thought that I couldn't make it."
"I didn't want to leave, believe me. I was going to wait-
"Alright," Stiles cut him off. "How about we save that for later? We need to talk about something serious right now."
Allison went to sit down. "What is it?"
"Uh, we think that we might have a way to find out more about that thing that attacked us at Isaac's. We think that your family might have a record."
"A bestiary," said Stiles.
Allison chuckled. "Uh, I think you mean bestiality."
"No," Stiles said a little loudly. "I don't."
"Do you know if your family has one?" asked Scott. "It would be some kind of book. Probably be pretty old."
Allison's mind flashed to the book that fell from Gerard's pocket. "And bound in leather?"
"You've seen it?" Stiles asked.
"I saw my grandfather with something like that."
"Where would he keep it?" asked Scott.
"I think where ever he feels it would be safe. Probably in his office."
"Can you get it?" said Stiles.
"Not without his keys."
Allison then left the phone on the table where Stiles came over and retrieved it only a minute later.
Allison was with her grandfather after school as he was locking his office. She could see the keys and clearly and saw that there were a few of them and even a flashdrive on the ring. He then started to put his keys away in his coat pocket.
"I have to warn you. You might have to be a little patient with me."
"Why?" she asked. "How come?"
"I probably have a lot of questions seeing as how I've never actually seen a lacrosse game before."
Allison let a laugh loose but then hid her head to the side and she caught the office phone. "Uh, hey, I'll be right there. I need to run to my locker and get my sweater."
Gerard nodded. "Okay. I'll get us a good seat," he said with a small smile before he went off.
Allison ducked back into the office and went to the phone. She went and dialed Scott's number to tell him that they needed to change the plan.
Stiles was on the bench, about to put his gear on when he was joined by Coach Finstock.
"Well, it's good that you finally showed up. I was beginning to think I might've been drunk when I decided to give you a spot on this team since you skimped out during your last game. But you're here and I can be relieved that I don't have to attend the next AA meeting next week."
Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Coach, those are mandatory."
He slammed his hand on his shoulder. "Not for me."
The opposing team started to arrive on the opposite side of the field. There was one of them that looked the size of a small house.
"Come on," Coach said standing up. "Show me a birth certificate! There is no way that guy is even a teenager!"
"Yeah," said Stiles. "That's Eddie Obamawitz Coach. They call him The Abomination."
"Oh, that's cute," he muttered.
He then walked off just before Scott ran over and slipped into the vacated spot.
"Stiles. We have a problem."
His face fell. "What is it?"
"Allison won't be able to get the book."
"What do you mean?"
"Her grandfather's going to have her with him all night so she can't go to his office."
"Scott, we need that book," he reminded.
"I know. Look, I need you to go to the office and get it."
"Me? How?"
"Don't worry. Allison has a plan to get his keys away from Gerard. Just go under the bleachers and she'll slip them to you."
Stiles shook his head. "Scott, if she can get the keys then why can't she just go herself anyway? She could say that she needs to go to her locker, bathroom or something."
He shook his head. "No, she already just made that kind of excuse and can't risk another. She could get caught and her parents are already watching her hard enough. She can't lose what little trust of theirs she has left. Just…please Stiles. Can you do this?"
Stiles wanted to argue but Scott was pulling out his desperate puppy dog look and Stiles instead found himself letting a breath loose. "Fine, alright. I'll go and get the book."
"Thanks Stiles," he said gratefully before he ran off to get to the field.
Stiles put his bag to the ground and made to walk off. But Coach's voice stopped him. "Stilinski!" He turned around to look at him. Coach brought his hands out. "Where are you going?"
"Quick bathroom break," he called out.
"Well just be sure it's quick," Coach spat at him.
Stiles then ran off.
Not too far away, Jackson was getting his gloves on when Danny came up to him with Matt and a tablet.
"What the hell is this?" he hissed at Danny. "I thought I could trust you."
"Relax," Matt said. "It's my camera okay. Besides, he just needed to ask me some questions."
"Matt was the one who found it anyway," Danny explained.
"Found what?" said Jackson as his curiosity replaced his aggravation.
Danny brought the screen over to show the footage to Jackson. "There," he said pointing.
Jackson shook his head. "There what?"
"It's an edit point," he said replaying the footage. Jackson hand suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "It's been looped. Two hours worth."
Jackson shook his head. "What does that mean?"
"It's two hours of footage, missing," explained Matt.
Jackson's eyes widened. Why would there be footage missing? What was that footage? Was it the footage that he wanted all along?
Allison shivered. "Wow, I should've picked a warmer jacket," she said to her grandfather.
Gerard narrowed his eyes. "I thought you were going to get a sweater from your locker."
"I did but it wasn't there. I think I lost it somewhere."
"Oh, I hope it wasn't a nice one," he said sympathetically.
"No, not really," she said shaking her head. "But it was warm."
"Well here," he said standing up. "Take my coat."
"Are you sure?"
"Oh yeah. Don't worry about me. Here," he said helping her into it.
"Thanks," she said smiling.
Allison then reached into the pocket and felt the keys in there. She sat back down and covertly brought her hand down to the space next to her. She felt a hand reach over and take them. Stiles then carefully stepped out from under the bleachers and headed off for the school in a run.
