A/N: Chapter 22, nearly halfway through (I can guess from my notes at least) so that's a thing. Also, I am really chuffed that people are enjoying this (for some reason).

Chapter 22

When Kenneth awoke at around five A.M we had shared a look that said that we would not talk about the previous night when. I had decided that it was truly nothing but a joke and a sudden way to change the topic. It didn't stop it being an awkward and stupid act on his part though.

He came out dressed in his plain white shirt and slightly ripped jeans, he looked tired and groggy his hair was greasy and messed and his skin was pale. Dark circles ringed his eyes but he said he was fine.

He regrettably accepted my offering of toast and Orange Juice, all of which he downed with a healthy cigarette soon after. I realised from the packet that in the night he had gotten through over half of it.

"You think she's ok?" He had absentmindedly said as grey solar rays speared through the desolate oaks that littered the looming mountain.

I responded "Karen?" And at his sad look I gave him a pat on the shoulder and what I could guess was a reassuring look, "she's fine."

A small sliver of confidence grew, "we heard those gunshots, they were from those pricks, so she has to be safe, she would be so far away," he said.

"Hopefully they were just someone accidentally firing and that murder has left town" I replied.

"They haven't." Kenneth responded with conviction.

"Yeah… yeah he hasn't," I agreed, sadly casting my gaze to the ground.

He let out a guttural sigh, "the time?"

I checked my phone, "five thirty-six."

He moved from the window and grabbed his parka from the bedroom, he didn't zip it up.

"If anyone saw me like this they'd have thought that I actually fucked you last night," he said with a mischievous grin. He continued, "I'm off to check on Karen."

When he got to the front door I stopped him, "do you mind if I come with you, it's not particularly safe to move alone."

"Oh, and you'll protect me? Sure, c'mon." I tailed behind.

We left the building and the bitter cold was quick, Kenneth swiftly pulled up his hood, shrouding his face with shadows and zipped up his Parka. He looked ready to reveal a knife from his pocket and mug someone, or me.

The town had that dark, foreboding silence that gave answers quickly, once more someone had defiantly been murdered, the population of two-thousand was shortening far too fast.

"Fuuuuuck," Kenneth said to the air.

"What is it?" I asked, "the silence?"

"Remember Stan saying about a curfew? If that's put on I'll be in the shit."

"Why?!

"I'll have to spend more time with my fucking parents. Fuck that! I'd rather be booked."

"What about Karen?"

He groaned in response.

We arrived soon after, I felt somewhat comforted by being with Kenneth, he could look after himself, he was no barroom brawler but he could give an act of confidence that would make a barbarian step down.

His door was locked tight, when he unlocked it with his key it still wouldn't budge.

"Did they buy a fucking bolt? Pricks!" He cried in outrage.

"Hey, at least Karen's safe," I reasoned.

"Well, that's something." He paused and tried the door once more, a thump of resistance and nothing more, "of all the times for the piece of shit to be a sturdy bastard," he mumbled.

"What are you going to do?"

He took a quick glance at the house, "I've got an idea."

"What?"

He stayed silent for a second and made a move around the side of the house. He looked up to the second story window; I feared what he was planning.

"Would you be against getting on my shoulders-?"

"I'm not breaking into your house!" I shouted. if there was one thing I was stuck in the ground on not being, that was a criminal… an intentional criminal, I had mentally excluded myself from the police's dealings with The Fanatics.

"No! Don't worry, that's my sister's room, I want you to see if she's ok."

I gave a sigh of relief, "uh… sure, fine."

"Thanks man!"

Shakily, I moved myself to his crouched form and the seeds of trepidation grew, nervousness planted a bud in my chest and smothered it with greenery, my breath stood still. I stood on his shoulders and kept my hands on the wall, he effortlessly lifted himself, even as I was shaking like I had been held at gunpoint.

Her room came into view and I saw the dyeing, peeling pink on the walls, the shelves with a variety of stuffed animals and her bead, which was comparable to a slab of wood with a mattress on top. It looked more comfortable to sleep on the ground.

She was only around nine or ten, sleeping peacefully, in the dark she looked like a noblewoman, pale and fair, hair splayed underneath her head. Her chest rose up and down slowly. The awkward part was that she had no top on and her small breasts had been revealed to the world.

"She's fine!" I quickly called in shock and hastily I scrambled off Kenneth's shoulders, and made a small jump onto the ground.

"Jesus!" Kenneth said, rubbing his shoulders, "she's not that ugly is she?"

"No… she was naked," I muttered in embarrassment.

Once more, Kenneth laughed at me.

When he calmed down, he kept a hand firm on my shoulder and stared at me, carefree. "If you weren't so obviously queer I'd punch you in the face."

"Wait! What?"

"Well, scrambling and blushing, I'da thought you had a thing for her, and then I'd beat the shit out of you."

"No, no no, what you just said!"

"What? About you being queer? Ah, shuddup Pip, you're the biggest faggot on earth, now, I guess we've gotta get to school before Kyle get's pissed off, hey, maybe he'll lay off if I'm early."

He walked away and I slowly followed with my face a deep crimson and my voice failing me.

Kenneth's gentlemanly way of putting things would never fail to impress me.

The school was completely empty when we arrived, it was half six, I wasn't expecting to find anyone, not even the teachers. The main gate was open; the groundskeeper obviously woke up early.

Kenneth lit another cigarette and complained that he only had five left. He sat himself on the steps and focused on the rising smoke and the burning tip.

He turned to me, a morbid curiosity on his face, "who do you think snuffed it? Those gunshots, I mean."

I felt a shiver come over me, "I… uh, I don't know." He looked with the same desperation that had overcome him when he first raved to me of his 'immortality.'

"I guess that's the worst part of it," he took a long look at the cigarette and flung it to the snow covered road and it was snuffed out. "I think this is the only time I'm going to say this…" he stood and stepped out the last embers of the smoke. He then used his feet to bury it in snow, "God help us," he said, his voice monotone and flat.

A chill worse than the cold went through me.