I failed. Red, Wayne, Veronica, and even Carnie. I failed them all, yet I still can't let myself die. I don't even feel ashamed for failing them, only rage. Rage towards the man I want to kill, the one who caused all of this to happen. Even I know that doesn't make any sense. My hatred for him is protecting me from everything else. So what will happen after I kill him and I'm left with no one else to blame but myself?

I cradled Red in my arms as gently as I could. My breaths were short and shallow as to not disturb her and as a result, the bleeding coming from my throat had stopped.

Why hasn't Carnie killed me? Why is Wayne still following me? Where are we and where are we headed?

All the things that should be running through my head are nowhere to be found. Only the rage. My Red is broken in my arms and all I can think about is that bastard! How much has he taken from me, how much have I let him take from me?

Feeling a hand on my shoulder I stop walking and turn to see Carnie. She looked off into the distance while speaking as if she couldn't bear to look at my face, or maybe it was Red. Her hand threatened to tear my shoulder off as she spoke, "You're alive because of her, and so am I. So I've decided to let you live, only because of her... I hope I never meet you again, for Red's sake."

I watch as she stormed off, passing over the horizon in mere seconds at her top speed.

Wayne's voice came as I watched her disappear, "What should we do now?"

What should we do now? Red, she takes priority no matter what my mind says. First I have to take care of her. Then we'll kill that fucker together.

Looking down at Red I responded, "Take off your clothes."

I could hear his surprise despite his one-word response, "What?"

Now turning my head towards him I commanded, "Take off your clothes. Did you expect me to carry Red around naked forever?"

Getting his clothes I ripped open the back of his shirt so it would fit on Red, however, his pants didn't even come close to fitting her.

I figured they wouldn't.

Tossing his pants back to him I stripped down my scratched and bloodstained rags that were in the vague shape of pants. Carefully pulling them up over Red's leg.

Picking Red back up I state the obvious, "Wayne... You can walk in front so you don't have to look at my ass."

"But, I-I don't know where to go."

"Neither do I."

PERCEPTION

(Time is Relative: Book Two)