“You cut my lines.” Dustin's hands had curled into fists at his sides. “Didn't you? You cut my fucking lines and you came here to—what? Check your work? Finish the job?”
“No!” Greg scrambled to his feet, backing away. “I wasn't trying to—I just wanted to understand?—”
“Understand what? Why I didn't die when you tried to kill me?”
“Yes! I mean—no! I mean—” Greg's back hit the wall. Dustin was still advancing. “You weren't supposed to survive. The fall should have killed you. Nothing should have saved you from that. I needed to knowwhy?—”
“So you admit it.” Dustin sounded dangerous. “You admit you cut my lines.”
Greg opened his mouth.
He couldn’t lie.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Something shattered in Dustin's expression.
“Un-fucking-believable,” he said. “We sat in that diner last night and you ate a fucking burger and I wiped ketchup off your face and the whole time—thewhole time—” Dustin shook his head. “Were you trying to think of a better way to kill me?”
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to—Morrith said I had to fix it—the file was still open and I?—”
Dustin took a step forward.
Greg ran.
He didn't decide to. His body simply moved, acting on survival instinct he didn't know he had, carrying him toward the door, away from the look on Dustin's face.
“Don't you fucking run from me!” Dustin was behind him, barefoot, shirtless, chasing him across the asphalt.
Greg's lungs began burning almost immediately. The morning air was cold and sharp and he was not built for running.
Unlike Dustin, who was right on his heels.
Greg forced himself to look forward.
The wall of a building loomed ahead. Greg didn't stop,couldn'tstop— he ran straight through it.
One second he was in the parking lot, the next he was inside some kind of storage room, surrounded by cleaning supplies and spare linens.
He barely caught himself before crashing into a shelf.
Outside, he heard Dustin skidto a stop.
“What the…”
A long silence.
Then the sound of hands slapping against concrete.
“I saw you,” Dustin's voice came through the wall, muffled but audible. “I fuckingsawyou. You went right through. You…”
Another silence. Longer this time.
Greg closed his eyes.
He'd escaped. He was safe.
And he'd left behind his clipboard.
