"Of course I don't want to hear it, you fucking fool!" Scarper shouts out the window.
"But listen," you say, "east of here there's—"
"I don't care! You were supposed to figure out how to help Clay," Scarper yells. "You already let Black Tarn kill that trucker, which I'm going to be dealing with for weeks. And now I hear you've been wandering around town asking people about a…a saddle? You could not be more useless. Get in the damn van. We need to start fixing everything you did last night."
Running off on my own seems hopeless. Resigned, I back off from a confrontation and get in the van.
Clay shouldn't perish in ignominy if there's any way I can help. I get in.
I don't want Scarper getting so mad he wolfs out where people can see. I get in.
"You know what, Scarper? I think you and me are finished." I've got the lance, an address, and bus fare. I'm done with Clay's "pack."
"You know what, Scarper? I think you and me are finished." I've got a direction to go in and enough money for bus fare. I'm done with Clay's "pack."
Next