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Car crash.

Not really but that guy totaled the windshield, buddy had no chance Zack was going 100 MPH and he was like a fly on a swatter. Mangled, distorted and twisted. He was so fucking dead, but poking him with a stick only seemed like the only way to gauge if he was still alive. So Alex did, Zack was throwing up in the woods and then Alex. He was twisting, gurgling in his own blood like an epic death scene from a cinematic but it felt too real to be a movie. White guy, looked rich at least but like in the movies the bad guys don't stick around too long. The drive wasn't too long anyway, to the lake - they were in rural Washington. Zack couldn't stop shaking [i]"Fuck fuck fuck! We're.. We're so fucked Lex!"[/i]. Alex sat shotgun with the window open in silence, the night seemed so inviting with the neon lights in the background. [i]"Have some hope and I'll pray for us."[/i] She said solemnly.

Zack was a blond too, cool slicked-back hair he thought he was the next actor to hit Hollywood. Leather jacket, torn jeans and cowboy boots, she always liked his eccentricity. A heavyweight grew in her stomach on the thought of the incident, Zack cracked his fingers while Alex took a bible out of the glove compartment. Never really religious she said started [i]"Our father, who art in heaven..."[/i] she prayed for Zack and herself, for forgiveness for their sins and for hope. A prayer only gets you so far, especially when you incapacitated someone and left them for dead.

They got to Cle Elum Lake and dumped the car, it was Zack's family car but it would become a write off as a stolen vehicle. His parents would call the police in the coming days but they never did get the insurance claim on it, something that weighed heavily on Zack. The two hitch hiked back to Seattle, two hippies coming from the west Yakima so they said. The trucker didn't care, he didn't mind the company - old guy in his sixties he was done trucking soon. They got back to Seattle the next morning, hanging around and watching the news was depressing especially when they found the kid.

Zack got out his dad's .44 later that day and held it in his hands.

Alex looked up, she spaced out for sure but the cop had started talking and her voice sent a chill down her back. 

“Mr. McCoy, do you mind if I ask about the candles? I’m not the incense type. Is this strictly necessary? And what’s in them?”

What's in them? She inhaled through her nose and realized the smell was weird, Chinese food weird. She blinked in the semi-dark room, she was fearful.

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