Every step, Elias' face hurt more, and every step, his staff got heavier. Yet Elias kept his steady pace and pushed on. The city was never dry, but today the one thing he needed was a glass of water.

  He hadn't even thought of writing a note, and wherever they were going, Elias prayed it had a charger so he could at least tell somebody. Hooligan had just walked off without a word, and Elias followed as if a man didn't die behind him.

  Hooligan walked ahead, posture still crooked as ever. Elias' thoughts drifted back to the magic, that rotten smell. It was like a bullet without sound. Once again he thought of running, but now it really was too late. He had trusted a man he knew nothing about, and now he had followed him to who knows where. Even as the sounds of the city began to fade, Hooligan still looked onwards without a care in the world.

  “Where are we going?” Elias asked while trying to catch up.

  “We're going to see someone,” Hooligan says, not looking back or changing his pace. “You'll probably like him.”

  What?

  “Why'd you kill him? I was going to be fine, and how the hell did you do it?”

  “Wouldn't want to lose my first member,” Hooligan says, finally looking back. His smile gave Elias chills. “Wouldn't be very kind of me.”

  What the hell?

  “We’re almost here; sit tight.”

  Near the walls the air began to thin, but here, the air was rich and natural. They turned right to find a small abandoned warehouse in a clearing of asphalt.

  From behind, Elias saw Hooligan's cheeks tighten like he was smiling.

  The closer they got, the more he noticed sounds coming from the warehouse.

  He thought it was the sound of machines or something scurrying, but then the rhythm began to soften.

  It was music.

  Not loud, but the sound carried from inside. The vibrations could be felt all through the air in low, deep notes. Music flowed out in waves that almost made Elias feel uneasy. The warehouse was no longer a mystery but something more familiar. Something soothing.

  As they opened the door, Elias saw a man who he assumed was who they were looking for. He didn't look up; he continued strumming his guitar as if they weren't there.

  “Ezra, you coming or what?” Hooligan yelled out to him.

  “Fuck off,” Ezra said as he continued playing, the tempo speeding up, “and who's this nigga?” He follows up, finally looking up to see Elias.

  Elias noticed that the warehouse was unnaturally green. Plants, flowers, and saplings were scattered across the floor. Vines grew all the way up to the roof, hanging down. They all seemed to stem from one point: Ezra.

  Hooligan looked towards Elias, noticing he wasn't paying attention, and answered for him.

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  “Our newest crew member,” he smirked slightly.

  “Alright, man, give me a second; you already messed shit up enough,” Ezra says, ending his playing abruptly and standing up, “get the kid a Band-Aid at least.”

  Hooligan gave that same smirk he had given Elias earlier. Like he knew exactly what was going to happen.

  The plants seemed to die a little as the music stopped and they walked out of the building.

  Elias was able to get a closer look at Ezra now that they walked side by side.

  He looked more regular than anything. He bore dark skin with hair let down in black curls. His posture was much more relaxed than Hooligan's. As they got closer to the city, Elias could notice acne all around but concentrated on his wide nose.

  “Which house was it again?” Hooligan asked a question for the first time

  “The red one, it's like 2 blocks over; I'll show you,” Ezra replied, taking the lead.

  What.

  “Huh?”

  “Geez, you could've at least told him that part,” Ezra says he's getting more annoyed than he was at the warehouse, “where'd you even pick him up from?” He questioned, now staring back at Elias.

  Elias initially felt closer to Ezra but was reminded that they still were strangers.

  “He was in a fight getting his shit rocked, but he did get some hits in.” Hooligan responded, his smile getting wider.

  “You didn't k—”

  “Of course, I had to step in and help before our buddy here would've died.” Hooligan interrupts and pats Elias on the back a little too hard.

  “I would've been fine.”

  “He's probably right; you should have just watched till it was over. I bet he could take whoever he was fighting,” Ezra comments, half defending Elias.

  “By the way, what's your name?” Hooligan asked, staring down at Elias.

  “It's Elias.”

  “Hmm, your parents named you that?” Ezra asks, dead serious, staring at the two.

  Hooligan glanced at Elias, and he glanced back, and for the first time they shared laughter.

  They shared more small talk until they finally reached the red house they spoke about. It was small and quaint, with a minivan parked outside the garage.

  Hooligan and Ezra walked up towards the front door as if they owned the place.

  Again, the air cleared and the rotten smell appeared.

  Elias stood behind them as they were at the door. A flash of red light, and the door crept open.

  He came to the realization that they weren't just a group of traveling friends.

  They were, after all, a group of criminals. Elias was no longer just a civilian who never stepped outside the law. Now he was breaking into random people's homes with people who he had just met. The guilt seeped in before he even took anything.

  “Alright, take whatever; we're leaving town by sunrise!” Hooligan yelled, already looking for the keys to the minivan.

  It was too late to hesitate and think about morals because, after all, there was no going back.

  He scavenged the house for anything useful. He found a charger, a phone he could use in case, and cash he found in a drawer.

  “Don't even trip; this guy's filthy rich. This is just his vacation home.” Ezra said, carrying pots and pans towards the garage.

  Now Elias had no reason to feel so guilty, but still his stomach turned. Sure the guy had more stuff but it was still stealing.

  Elias, getting bored of doing nothing, decided to wander around the house. Despite how small the house looked, he counted two bedrooms on the bottom floor alone. There was even a basement with a bar and pool table. Deciding to go upstairs he found Hooligan rummaging through the owner's clothes.

  “Bro.”

  “This guy might have fashion you never knew.” Hooligan said, somehow rationalizing his behavior.

  Elias simply walked away, saving himself a headache.

  Ezra had finished his packing and stuffed a few pots and pans into the car along with all the seasonings he could find. It seemed that he was going to be in charge of cooking while they were on the road. What concerned Elias was the unreasonable amount of shrooms and weed next to the supplies.

  Elias decided he'd face it later and sat on the couch, making himself at home. While he was technically a criminal, it felt good being free. Now he could do whatever he pleased with little to no repercussions.

  He thought back to the conversation he had with Sofia. He hesitated about sending a text to her but ultimately decided to.

  “I finally found an opportunity to leave, so if you see me on the news, don't be alarmed. I'm not dead either.”

  He turned his phone off and plugged it in to charge.

  He

  laid his head back, not to sleep, but to simply rest his eyes.