You decide to go for a walk. Your mind originally shies away from the idea, but you manage to convince it with the promise of a cigarette. "Anyone have a lighter? Some matches?" you ask. Stebbins digs around in the kitchen draws for a while and comes up with a box of matches. "Thanks."

You wander around, just enjoying the sights and smoking. It's so empty and it's starting to freak you out. It's not like you lived in New York or anything when you were alive – no, you were from western Montana – but if a place has this much stuff there should be people to fill it up. You'd be fine with it if it was just empty countryside, but all these empty houses make you a little nervous.

Not paying attention to where you're going, you run straight into Pearson. Funny, you were just thinking about him at breakfast.

"Um," you say. "Make your voodoo dolls yet?"

He looks offended. He was offended when you called his pennies creepy, too, but you figure that you were justified in that because they were creepy. "Did you take Baker away from Abraham yet, or don't you have guts to do it anymore?"

It takes you a while, but eventually you get it. "I am so goddam sick of these stupid intestine jokes," you say, and he laughs. "Look, you're not the first to say something like and you sure as hell won't be the last so just. Stop."

"Why?" Pearson asks. "It's funny."

You roll your eyes and go on walking. He follows you. You're getting more than slightly annoyed with him. You never really liked him – hell, who did you like? Baker? Yeah, that was about it, McVries and Garraty weren't too bad, Parker was a badass, and you thought Stebbins was smart but that was basically it – and that dislike has transferred over to the afterlife. You can tell he doesn't really like you either. Probably because of your reaction to the penny thing.

"So, what have you been up to?" you ask because it's extremely fucking awkward if you're just walking there.

"Oh, you know," he says. "Cursing first-born children. Manipulating lives from beyond the grave."

You just look at him and he rolls his eyes. What a sarcastic little shit. You kind of like him, though he did make a joke about your intestines falling out, but, then again, who hasn't made a joke about your intestines falling out? Hell, you've even made a joke about your intestines falling out.

"I'm hungry," you realize. You didn't get to eat much of Stebbins's eggs before dumping the Kool-Aid on Barkovitch's head. You throw your cigarette on the road and glance around. "You think there will be cereal or something in one of these houses."

"Let's make cookie dough," Pearson says. You look at him. He shrugs. "What? I like raw cookies. Mostly because of the raw eggs because I like eating babies."

"You're taking this too far," you say. "Christ, just because I said that your stupid penny thing was creepy –"

"It was for good luck! I wasn't trying to curse you guys or anything, I was just-"

"Anyway, if you eat raw eggs you'll get salmonella-"

"Oh, who gives a shit, I'm dead-"

"So am I but I don't want salmonella-"

"You won't get salmonella-"

"I'm just following my gut-" And then you're both laughing, the argument gone and Pearson has completely given up on standing. He's sprawled out on the sidewalk (You briefly remember the first words you heard him say: "Hey! Sidewalks!") laughing, and you're still standing up but you're laughing and you think that maybe you wouldn't mind some cookie dough.

"Alright," he says after he's done laughing. "Help me up and then let's go make some cookies. As long as you let me eat some of the dough."

"Okay," you say, grabbing onto his outstretched hand and pulling him up. "Where'd Harkness end up, anyway? I saw you with him at Abraham's stupid little thing."

Pearson shrugs. "Haven't seen him since. I woke up, didn't see him, and decided to find a place to sleep that wasn't the floor."

"Oh," you say for lack of something better. "Well. How about those cookies."

He rolls his eyes and heads for the nearest house. You follow. This house is locked, and you prepare to do your break-open-window-cut-arm-unlock-door routine, but he picks the lock before you can find a suitable rock. Damn it. That was sort of badass.

You have no idea how to make cookies so he takes charge, finding butter and vanilla and sugar and brown sugar – you steal a cup of this and eat it while sitting on the counter, halfway through it you feel like throwing up and dump it back in the brown sugar bag when Pearson's not looking – and everything else that you need to make chocolate chip cookies. Pearson makes the cookie dough, eating hunks of it at what seems like every stage. He even eats some of the melted butter/sugar/brown sugar mix, which you think is a little gross, and once you get to the 'just before you put them in the oven' stage, you grab a handful. There's probably enough cookie dough left in there for ten cookies, and the batch originally made around thirty.

Oops.

While waiting for the cookies to bake, you ask Pearson a question.

"So, you want to move into the loser's house with me, McVries, Stebbins, and Barkovitch?"

this reread of the long walk has given me many hank olson feelings