"Get out," he said, without turning around. "You have no business here."
"I do," the man behind him said, and when Biker turned around, the dread he felt was overwhelming.
Of course it would be him.
(more)
"This is my last time," Biker says, in reference to the way his head is spinning as he points the knife towards the cashier.
"I'll go to prison and die there."
"Let's leave," the masked stranger said, and Biker is so, so tired. He sighs, glancing at the cashier. It's just a kid, really, scared and now confused into silence.
"Sorry," Biker says lamely.
"It's okay?" they respond, and he laughs at them as he follows Jacket outside.
He figures if he's going to die later, he can just get it over with now right here.
"I'm ready," he says. Jacket's footsteps on the rough sidewalk stop.
"What?"
This time Biker's confused, and he looks up and then motions to himself. "Just finish me off. I deserve it, don't I? This is your victory."
"It's not a victory. You're high."
"If I wasn't, would you kill me?"
"No."
"And why's that, huh?"
Biker stumbles on his march to the other man, but he rights himself and keeps walking so he can poke him in the chest and grab at his namesake so he doesn't tilt over and fall down.
"Why are you here? Why did you follow me if you weren't going to kill me? Did they tell you to find me?"
His breathing goes frantic at that, eyes widening. "Did you find me for them?! You-you have no right-"
"I did it for myself."
His breath halts, and he's left standing, leaning side to side as he watches Jacket grip the bottom of his mask and pull it off.
"I wanted out, too."(less)
