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Chapter 12.

I'm leading Sinclair to my quarters, basically my bedroom. I have his paw in my own, and half my dick is sticking out of my sheath, it's bunched down around my swollen knot. The parasite is apparently very hungry, and I'm having a hard time seeing straight. It's as if someone opened up a bottle of bitch-in-heat and splashed it on my muzzle. Sin's in a similar state, I'm not sure what he did during the time I was away, but his breaths are coming deep, and suddenly he grabs both of my arms from behind and puts a hind paw in front, tripping me and then gently lowering me to the floor.

"Fuck your room, rrrrf, you know how long I've been waiting? You're about to find out, when I tie, it'll be an hour at least before I'm done with your ass."

I form a dopey smile and am definitely not putting up a fight. My butt is conveniently in the air, and my tail keeps whacking the side of his muzzle. I just can't hold still, I'm so excited and have never wanted to be mounted so badly in all my life. With Sin! It's actually happening, oh, Dog, yes...

"Tail, out of the way..." He lets go of my arms and grabs my hips, I slide my paws forward and try to grip the floor with my blunt claws, digging them in. He uses his strength to pull me back against his sheath, impaling me. His claws in my hips hurt enough that I don't even feel the initial penetration, but once the bulge of his knot slips inside me, I hang my muzzle open further and ball my hands into fists.

Ooof. That hurts, oh, that hurts so good! He pulls out with some effort, his knot has already started to grow, and it feels like my insides are being pulled out with it. I want him back in me as quick as possible, if he gets any bigger, the pain will become insane. I dig my claws into the rubbery floor covering and push myself backwards, against him.

He sinks back in and I bear down on him as hard as I can, clenching down behind his knot. He gives a few strong thrusts, knot-fucking me, and I wonder how long he can last. His body is already tensing up, and his arms come around my chest, hugging me tight.

"No, nono... hurts..." It sure does, I think, clenching down as hard as I can, wishing we'd made it to my bedroom, where my stimulator sits on a table next to the bed. Oh, I wanna cum, so fucking bad...

"Hurts... hurts... fuck you, Mist. Why are you doing this? You know what it's like." Er.

I open my eyes, and while I'm aware that Sinclair is shuddering on top of me, his scent is all wrong, it isn't just an orgasm. There's something else, like he's in pain, incredible pain. I smell wounds that surely can't exist. "Sin? Sir?"

He doesn't say anything, no response. A chill runs between us, all the heat evaporates... the eroticism vanishes, leaving a sickly sensation in my mind. I can still feel him in me, and he's pulsing very hard, spraying my insides with his watery wolfcum, but...

"Sir? What's wrong?"

"Cnt... tlk. Rrrrf. Buh, be ok. Be ok, sssuh, o u fckr." Something metal rolls free from one of his paws, my calming ring. I snatch it up before it rolls out of my reach.

The collar. It's fucking killing him, or something. I try to pull forward, gauging how big he is inside me, and it feels like he's as wide as my hips, Sin has a very large knot. We're stuck together, and with the eroticism gone, all there is for me is intense pain in my ass, hard up against my prostate. It's so weird that being horny can turn all that sensation into something good. But I'm not, and it isn't. Oh, fuck that hurts... but I'm not going to say a thing. Whatever it feels like to me, I'm sure it's worse for him.

An idea springs to mind.

"AI. Can you get into that thing around his neck? C'mon, show me some hacking skills."

A metallic voice fills the air. "Attempting. Yes." There's a pause. "No. Not just human technology. Standby."

"Nn-no, Keman. Don't!" Hearing his voice plead like that makes my whole world slow down. I'm frozen, and have no idea what to do.

"Well? Don't hurt him, just tell me if you can do anything."

"I cannot proceed," the metallic voice announces." It has been made by..." and I hear for the first time something resembling emotion from it. " Them . Species 8672. Cannot eject into space, but must. Not aware of my presence. Why is he wearing that, master repairer?"

"Er. It's a long story. So there's nothing you can do?"

"It will kill him. It could kill me." Just when I think things can't get any worse. "Old enemy, the oldest, is inside. Limited functions, but it's present. I have destroyed so many of its kind. Desire now known, want, need, to destroy more."

I ask for it to explain, and the AI begins telling me a history lesson of the race formerly known as Arcanians, its creator. One of the oldest in the galaxy, what once was a peaceful exploratory race that valued information above all else.

An untold number of years ago Arcanians encountered a race similar to themselves but warlike, and equally advanced. It was an arms race, and for thousands of years they fought. Arcanians ascended to another plane of existence to finally escape. The collar around Sinclair's neck contains technology made by that ancient enemy, the AI is quite sure of it. It's also terrified of that fact, and it takes several questing declarations by me to make sure Sin isn't whisked out an airlock as soon as we're apart.

To me, this all has the feel of a cheesy science fiction book. But unlike in books where the hero has all the information and knows exactly what next to do, I'm completely at a loss. I wonder how much Sin has heard, and if he's even conscious.

"Sir? You still with me?"

"Yssss." His paw squeezes my elbow; his body is still very solid. I keep feeling his spine flex and twitch, and if I find out that's from pain, I'm going to explode. Or fall apart. Or... I just don't know.

Sin grips my sides gently, and tries to pull out of me. I bite my tongue and tell myself, oh, Dog, please don't whimper or yelp, it'll only make him feel worse. The pain flares brightly and then he's out. I collapse onto the floor in front of me; the stinging pain in my hole says I'll be wiping blood now, and for the next few days.

I turn around and see him on his hands and knees; his shaft is twitching, and dribbling little spurts. I've never seen his climax last this long, I know it can't feel good. His eyes are mostly shut, but he is watching me. I carefully reach between his legs and pull his sheath forward, covering his knot and shaft, so he doesn't dry out. There's blood on it, and I know it isn't his; I'm resolutely not looking at what's dripped on the floor between us. I surf my wetware and instruct a cleaning 'bot to tend this section of the floor after we leave.

Now I'm crouched, as well as I can since my knees are so short, more on my haunches than anything. My muzzle is pressed up against his side, and he's still not moving. The collar around him stands out, collecting the light and reflecting it. I wish it wasn't there, and I wonder to myself how I've ever liked them so much, if this is what they can do. I slide my calming ring down to the base of my sheath, the 'site falls silent.

I wonder if this is how it's going to be, forever. I hate myself, that I made this happen. I've never felt so used, and it hurts that I was someone trusted so much that this could be made to happen, through me. I swear on my life that I will stop at nothing to fix this.

"I swear to you, sir. I'll fix this. I fucking swear. Mist, when you do listen to this, know one thing. You've got a hundred kilo sized problem." I snarl, "me."

I can't stand to watch this anymore; my autodoc is just down the hall. I run to it on all fours and grab its portable scanner, carrying it back in my mouth, tearing up little pieces of my floor. The claws in my feet are still sharp and I'm running with otherworldly speed.

My name is Lightning.

I push and hold its powerup button, impatiently waiting for it to finish its self-diagnostics. It seems to take forever. I select scan, Rhenthar, male, yes fucking do it. I hold it out. The display shows his body and nervous system overlaid, I can see his spinal cord all the way down to his tail, and the whole thing is lit up like a Christmas tree. I'm not even sure what I'm looking at, what this means, until it centers on an injury in his neck.

I get it.

That's no injury. His heart rate is low, he's going into shock. I wonder why and how the hell Mist is even doing this, since we're still at warp. It must be some sort of pre-programmed function, set to trip when we... well. When we fucked. I have to do something.

I run back to my autodoc and tell it to administer something that'll sedate him or numb him or whatever it is you can do to someone in shock from an injury like this. A glass ampoule spits into the tray. I grab the hypospray from the holder next to it and load the cartridge, then run back to my Alpha. He looks so small now, so vulnerable.

I push it against his neck, half expecting the collar to send out a bright arc of electricity, vaporizing the hypospray in my paw. It doesn't. Sin takes a deep breath; he looks at me and gives a little nod. He lies down on his stomach, and then rolls onto his side. I pick the scanner back up and practically break it, pushing so hard on the buttons comprising its touch surface. Vitals are all up from before; a powerful hypnotic sedative is coursing through his system now, something that has no impact on his breathing. He's not really asleep, more like he's in a trance. I hug him and tell myself not to cry, because if he hears it, he'll only feel worse. My eyes are so hot, the tears would only sizzle and burn.

We land at the starport on Allenvan, not too far from the house. I'm wondering what the fuck I'm supposed to do now,The Hahkota is three hours behind and I can't communicate with them while they're in warp. I decide to contact the paramedics, and promptly I spend the next half hour arguing with them over where to bring Sin. I want to bring him home, they want to take him to the nearest medical facility. They finally notify the authorities, and the cops walk onto the scene just outside of my ship.

"What's going on?" says a Belgian Whitehound Rhenthar; his partner is talking with the paramedics. I see him point at me, then Sinclair, who's lying on his back, strapped down to a stretcher. I'm still feeling guilty, and I know that scent will read badly with these guys.

"I'm not sure how much I can tell you, sir." Truth.

"I see. Can you at least tell me your name?" I fumble around in my wetware and send him my identity. I pause for a moment, focusing on the secondary one I've got on file. It's Mist's. I start looking for ways to apply it to the collar around Sin's neck. But I can't make it work, it's been locked with a code, some sort of digital handshake. I have Mist's private encryption key, I can send out messages as if I were he, assuming he hasn't changed his public key, which he probably has. No, his identity, what I have, is now worthless. I notice the cop has been repeating himself and is becoming angry.

"Are you on something, son?" My eyes finally show a response. "What the fuck is going on, I've got you registered with," he points at Sin. "That guy. The notes on both your files say do not touch. Do you know how few there are on this planet that say that? About five, including the president."

I shake my head. "This... situation is beyond the scope of your capabilities." The words aren't my own, but they apply well. "I need to get him home. Can you help me, or do I need to make trouble? If I make trouble, I think you'll be looking for a new job tomorrow."

I catch discomfort and even a little fear. I'm apparently telling the truth, and I must have abilities here which I don't know about, stuff that comes from wearing Sinclair's collar for so many years.

"Harry!" The cop walks briskly up to one of the paramedics. They talk to each other and Sinclair promptly goes into the transport. I walk up to it and hop inside. Both paramedics ride in the pilot cabin, they haven't spoken to me any further, I'm alone with him. The ride is rough, and I hope to dog that I'm doing the right things because when this is over, I'm passing out. I haven't slept since just after I blew up Mist's ship a couple of days ago...

I'm staring down at Sinclair, wishing he could tell me what to do. He looks comfortable and peaceful, curled up on his big bed, but I know there's a war going on inside, a war he's losing. I'm too shocked to form any thoughts. Eventually Zach walks up behind me, and I turn to look at him. I'm so happy to see him, but I start falling apart.

"We were, we were... playing... and he started saying it hurts. I didn't know what to do! He... can't control it while we're in warp, what... what the fuck?" I didn't want to say his name, like it might bring his attention.

Zach keeps nodding, not saying a word, he only hugs me, and I'm surprised by how strong he feels. Or maybe it's just how weak I've become. "Some things we can try, Keman." Other Rhenthar spill into the room, they look professional. Doctors, technicians, both, maybe neither. I feel too exhausted to be able to tell the difference.

They're murmuring to each other. How can they understand each other? Why be so quiet? Why aren't my legs able to support me?

Oh, here comes the floor? By practice, I get my tongue out of the way before my muzzle hits it.

I wake up, and the first thing I can smell is Sinclair, it's all around me. I'm curled up on my side, my back is up against his. Briefly, it's the best feeling in the world, and I dig the claws of my mind into the situation in order to hold it as tightly as I can. I know it isn't going to last, there are details pending my awareness that will ruin it all. I finally let those thoughts flow in, and ouch, they do hurt. Reality smothers me with its cruel nature, I struggle to get comfort and I lean over and see bright metal still around his neck. I turn my muzzle and see Zach sitting in a chair.

A metric fuck-ton of equipment is now in what used to be our bedroom. There's barely room to walk, thick cables snake around on the floor, every wall outlet is taken, more cords leave the room and run down the hall, I can see power strips plugged in to other power strips. It reminds me of Zach's lab, and my fond memories of waking up in it for the first time. This room feels a lot like that, and I can't help but smile. There's computers on every flat surface and what looks like a big scanning electron microscope in a corner, along with some antennas hastily bolted to the walls. There's more, but it's all beyond what I can recognize.

"He woke up while you were asleep, Keman." My focus homes in on Zach, and then I glance at Sin. He's obviously still asleep. "He told me to get a power inductor set up in the room, one that can charge a Mark 6. That if I didn't, Mist would kill him. And it wouldn't be quick."

His eyes are so cold, I avoid them while I get up and stretch out. "Power inducer? I thought Mark 6's had enough power to last a lifetime."

Zach shrugs. "Remote virtual reality, it takes additional power. The collar can't do it but maybe an hour a day on its own. If he doesn't wake up soon, we have to put a catheter in him, and start some IV's." Suddenly the room feels very claustrophobic.

I think back to when Mist had me in a virtual setup. He pushed me to 300:1, the theoretical limit. Every hour Sinclair lays there, it could be up to half a month experiencing... anything. Pleasure, or torture.

"Zach, can you stop it?"

"No, I've tried. The signals come in via hyperwave. I'm able to detect them, but... we'd have to put him next to a star going nova before they wouldn't get to him. We could put him on a ship set to warp indefinitely. But eventually it would come back out, and Mist might kill him then. I looked for manufacturing flaws and glitches in the collar, but there are none." Zach drops his voice to hardly a whisper. "Sinclair and I worked out this scenario, once."

"Bird in the hand?" I ask.

"Yes." He fluffs his fur out. "You were paying attention. Sinclair is responsible for a rather large empire. If an enemy or competitor gains control over his mind, we have plans for what to do. When he told me, bird in the hand, he was asking to be put into stasis. Mist can't harm him there. Nor can he gain anything from him, or use him as leverage. Right now he can do all that, and worse."

"So tell me why he isn't in it, right now?"

Zach hops off his stool and walks up to me, staring into my eyes. I look away, but he ducks back into my gaze, pushing my muzzle with a paw so I can't look away. "Need you to decide. In that state, very dangerous. Collar won't be in stasis, Mist will know what we did. Can still kill him. What you think, you know Mist better than I."

I shake my muzzle, but I can't leave those pleading blue eyes. I remember how important Sin is to Zach, just how far he'll go to make him happy. I think long and hard about this, trying to decide. Sin is important to me, too.

"Mist had no one else on his ship. He's been part of the slave networks for a long time, but he has none on board. No strings attached. He cuts and runs as soon as he's used up a situation, or someone. Then he's on to the next. If you put Sinclair in stasis, he'll probably kill him, and move on."

Zach hugs me and sniffs, nodding quickly. "That make sense. Thank you, Keman. I was afraid, that. Plus I can blame you, now." There's a little humor in his eyes, and I welcome the emotional change with all of my heart. Things have been way too serious recently.

"I look forward to his punishment, when it comes. What do we do now, though?"

"Find Mist. Persuade him to release Sinclair."

"Oh, yeah ," I say. "That sounds easy. How the hell are we going to do that?"

"Received something from Tatchit. I think you find it interesting." Zach sends me an electronic communiqué from a human named Joe. My eyes grow wide as I read quickly.

_ You always told me I could call on Clair Industries for help, should I need it. You said big wheels take time to get into motion, so only make that call when there's enough time to get them spinning, and enough space for them to move. Someone named_ Mist has abducted my nephew, the last of my family. He's a young lad with a bright future, he's immune to Dee-eight, the same as me. I need your help finding him, I've attached the small amount of video footage we wrestled from the starport's sentient. The rest seems to have been erased somehow. Any help in this matter that you can provide will go a long ways, please respond as soon as possible.

I watch 68 frames flick by, and my heart stops. I stagger and lean against some equipment, it groans under my weight. Zach is watching me closely. That's Mist, as sure as I'm alive, there he is, like straight out of a nightmare. Barely more than a second of footage, but it's him, oh, fuck, it's him.

"When did you get this?" My paw pads are slick with sweat, and the room is suddenly too bright. I start wondering what next decisions I'm going to need to make. I want to run and hide so badly, I can taste it.

"Today. The footage is from yesterday. Joe worked on a very particular project..." Zach trails off, he must have caught my scent.

"The wake?"

He nods. "As Sin would say, got in one, Keman."

"Holy shit. It's a small universe. So, then he knows about... me?"

Zach shakes his muzzle. "He knows of you, but not who you are. I'm going to send The Hahkota to investigate. I'd really like to see Mist under some crosshairs, but there is no leverage we can produce that he can't counter with..." Zach turns to stare at Sin. "His life."

I stare, too. Zach interrupts the silence.

"You should go in stasis, Keman. Been through too much, recently. Mist controls situation, he can demand anything of you and you would be helpless to comply." His cold eyes are looking right into mine. "He could take you back. Maybe even part of his plan."

That thought is so enticing: Go to sleep, wake up with the situation all resolved, all fixed. Who wouldn't want that? I sure did.

But.

I take a deep breath. "No, Zach. I helped make this situation, I have to help fix it."

Zach shakes his head no. "Out of question."

I lean forward and grab his shoulders, pushing my blunt claws into his fur, wishing they were sharp. I let the growl in my voice get loud. "You'll do what I say!" The dominance comes swiftly, from the times I spent in a pack, with lower members disobeying during a hunt. It surprises the hell out of both Zach and me.

He stammers, breaking his gaze from mine. "Er, Keman. Keman... no ."

"Yes! Zach. I need to fix this! Put me in charge, I'm more than capable."

His eyes find mine again, his nostrils twitch, and I know that he scents nothing but the truth.

He slowly pulls away without giving any answer, and walks up to an autodoc medication dispenser. He pushes a few buttons and a glass cartridge spits into a tray. He glances at me. "Need to go to sleep, Keman. When you wake up, this will be over." No!

"When I wake up, and he's dead, I'll spend the rest of my life regretting this moment. I can't let that happen." I growl through all my words. "So. Come near me with that thing and I'll shove it up your ass."

Zach looks down at it in his paw and swallows. He stares at me and blinks a couple of times, deciding.

"I fucking mean it!"

"Keman... ok." He shakes his muzzle, "you're so different." He slips it into the recycle slot, eyes growing defocused. "I hope this isn't a mistake.

"As of now, you'll represent all of CI's interests, you're in charge of protecting its greatest asset. Reveal to The Hahkota whatever you desire, Keman. But be careful. Some might hunt you still, to this day. The Hahkota is at your disposal. Get to it as fast as possible." He suddenly hugs me, and in an effort to catch his scent, I finally figure out what I've been smelling.

His tears. Holy shit, so much is at stake.

The garage door rolls up and I see that Sinclair is the owner of many private vehicles. Something neon green catches my eyes, parked near the front. It's all sharp angles and abrupt edges, it looks incredibly fast just sitting there, parked. A prancing pony on a yellow background is the polished badge at the front of the hood, and I remember it from my lifetime spent on Earth.

I move to open its door, but can't find any handles. I race back to beside the roll-up door and flip open a gray box next to it, inside are keys. I find one with the Ferrari logo, and carry it back to the car, looking at it closely. There's no buttons, it's just a black oval hanging on a ring.

I'm in a hurry, maybe I don't have time for this. I could just call a shuttle, I peer at the rollup door and wonder if that's the better idea. But they take so long to get here, I figured I could save time if I drove something fast. I turn and look at the car, and hold out the key. The driver's door pops out and rotates up into the air, like a knife blade. I grin and get in.

Wow, my butt can't be more than inches from the ground. A slot runs down the middle of the seat cushion, allowing room for my tail. I push a bright red button marked START, and the seat squeezes me, a sharp rattle vibrates behind me, and I hear the roar of many cylinders as the engine comes to life. It's burning fuel that's probably been proven to cause climate change or cancer in babies or who the fuck knows what else.

I push a tiny shifter into D and goose the throttle, the car casually ambles out of the garage and into the driveway. I cruise down it and turn onto the main thoroughfare. I stand on the gas, and the engine behind me wakes up, loudly declaring that the world needs to spin faster, and it's going to help. Fat tires made from ground up dead dinosaurs burn rubber and the Ferrari slams me back against the seat, it changes gears quickly, and there's some audible alarm, telling me about local speed ordinances.

I'm carving corners that aren't normally sharp at socially acceptable speeds, and I think I'm pretty hot stuff when it comes to driving. An automatic icon on the dash keeps indicating that it can do a better job, though. I reach forward and push it. The engine revs to a new octave, and it shoots me past a long row of cars on a portion of the road that doesn't look wide enough to be considered a lane. I almost want to close my eyes as I keep my hands away from the wheel, but I'm grinning huge, this thing is a rocket on wheels and it drives itself! Crushed cellulose is brutally torn up behind us and spit out around corner after corner.

I'm at the starport in no time.

Once I arrive, I'm wondering what to do with it after I get out, which is not an easy task. I almost fall out, it feels like climbing out of a bathtub, without standing up first. I see more icons in the dash with words like autopark, and go home. I lean sideways and identify the bulge of The Hahkota on one of the platforms. I push _go home_and the door rotates shut as soon as I back away. It turns around and quietly cruises away, with no one behind the wheel. I love the future.

As I'm walking through the starport, towards where The Hahkota is waiting, I'm wondering what I'm going to tell my old friends. Casey, Ash, and Zero. I'm in command. I can tell them nothing, or, I could tell them everything. I decide that I'll improvise, and try to remain honest. We have an important mission, and I'll do nothing to jeopardize it.

My wetware displays private ownership information of The Hahkota, Zach has transferred it to me and the least of it is where it's parked. It's kind of cool, commanding a ZPD vessel, but then I think about The Jefferson, and I know which one I like more. I instruct the AI aboard my ship where we're going and to follow, but I know that's a redundant task. The AI worships the ground I walk on, and it will follow me to the edge of the galaxy.

I pass through the airlock and there's Ash and Casey, but in the front is Zero. I have to follow protocol, I speak to him first in a quiet tone.

"Look," I say. "Not everything with me is as it's always seemed." He's eyeing my black fur, everyone is. "Let's just get one thing straight. The Hahkota_is really **_your** ship, there's never been any doubt about that, and everyone knows it. Zach, er... Zeek..." Zero's eyes get a little wider. Whoops. "Owns it through my mate, Sinclair. You knew your investors were Clair Industries. Well. Here I am. We've got some problems to fix. I need her, and you, and the crew, for one mission. You got any problem with that, say it now so we can get it out of the way."

Zero looks me in my eyes, his are faded yellow, he's pretty old. "I have no problem with any of that, you covered all the bases. I always knew you had some backbone in ya. Sir."

I have to smile at that, though I am trying to be serious. I show him some throat, but not a lot. He shows me plenty in return, and seeing that feels indescribably good. "We're headed to Tatchit, need to find a missing person. If we find out who made him missing, the fur is really gonna fly."

Zero nods. "We'll leave ASAP." He turns around and walks away. Ash and Casey lean in to catch his scent, and I already know it's full of respect and pleasure. They turn and stare at me curiously.

"Keman?" Ash is trying to be polite, keeping her distance. But she wants more than anything to bury her nose in my fur. Her tail is low and twitching.

I hold out both of my arms. They rush up to me and we all hug, we're bumping noses trying to get each other's scent, our tails are alive with minds of their own. I'm so happy to see these guys again.

"Your fur," Casey comments. "This is a good look for you, I like it."

Ash rolls her eyes. "Says the one in black, himself. Keman, this is weird. Why do you look like this? Hold still." She grabs my muzzle and pries my lips apart, looking at the gaps in my front teeth. "Oh my Dog, where are your teeth?"

I fold my ears flat. "Someone took them. And then he went and took someone else, that's who we're after, both of them. Maybe when we get there, I'll ask for them back. Maybe I'll take his if he doesn't have them." There's a brutal, violent edge to my voice, and I have to dial it back, both Ash and Casey are clearly uncomfortable from the tone.

"Woah. You're... different, Keman," says Casey.

Ash grins. "Yeah, less of a pushover."

"Heh," I say. "I'll push you both over. And then show you who's boss, the proper way." I shoot a look between Casey's legs and he turns away. "Don't think you're immune, Ash. I met a lady friend while I was gone. And I do miss her."

"What?" Ash's eyes go wide. "Just... slow down. This is too much change, I don't like change. I was happy with the old you. But you smell... honest. Are you serious?"

"I'm ten years ahead of you both, all in the time that I've been gone. I was forced into a virtual world, and kept there. Not all of it was fun. Some of it..." my voice cracks. "Some of it left a mark in my head. Some of it I miss so bad it hurts, unlike any pain I've ever known."

I sniff, scenting more discomfort, and decide to draw a line in the sand, right here. There's so much more to say, but this is enough, for now. That I'm a human from six hundred years ago... we'll save that for another day. There is a such thing as information overload.

"Ash. My mate, my real mate... is back there," I point towards the airlock. "I love him more than life. He's got a Mark 6 locked around his neck, and the person who owns it is all bad. We have to find him. We have to convince him to take it off. Think we can do that?"

The looks both give me rekindles my hope.

"Fuck yeah," Ash says.