Joules tasted blood. It ran down his hair and face to his lips. His shirt was drenched in it. The RA stood there, petrified. The hole in his chest weeped. There was no pain on the man’s face, not even surprise, just confusion - eyes that begged for an explanation that would never come. The RA took a step forward, hand outstretched, as if to grab hold of Joules for support, but collapsed to his knees, before slumping over, never to stand again.

Snap out of it.

He grabbed Benji by the handlebars and dragged him back behind the front desk, each labored step he took was another exposed second, but the second shot never came. He helped Benji out of his chair, as the top of his head stuck out over the desk.

“He’s here,” Benji said.

Joules couldn’t say anything. He tried wiping some of the blood off of his face, but succeeded only in smearing it around. His heart pounded against his rib cage. The sharp crack and ringing of the shot still echoed in his ears. He was close.

“What do you plan to do?” Benji asked.

Fuck this. What the hell is going on?

“He is approaching,” Benji continued, unfazed or unaware of Joules’ shocked silence. “Campus police are on the way. Castillo will kill them, Joules. You need to do something.”

He shook his head. “Why me?” he asked. “I can’t go out there. That’s a real ass guy with a real ass gun who will blow me away before I get two steps outside that door. No way.”

“I am not suggesting meeting him head on,” Benji said. “If that were the case, I could go out myself and die for nothing. I’d prefer if we could find a way to avoid such a pointless confrontation.”

Joules finally turned to look at the young man. “Fuck you.”

He stared at Benji for the first meaningful time, hoping the look of revulsion on his face made it through his glasses. They might have been around the same age, but Benji could have passed for three or four years younger than Joules. His mixed heritage had given him a soft complexion with fair skin and sharp lips. There wasn’t a wisp of facial hair that Joules could see. He was barely more than a child. It was apparent that they were both out of their depths.

Joules couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all karmic bullshit, however. He couldn’t think of a single thing he’d ever done for him to deserve this.

“Campus PD is approaching from the east,” Benji said as his eyes recorded the scene transpiring on the back of his glasses.

“Damn it, now’s not the time for a play-by-play!” Joules pounded the front desk, but the meager act of property violence did little to slake his anger. Once again, he was helpless. “Do you have anything helpful to say? Or should I just leave your crippled ass and get out of here. I don’t even know why I bothered to help you in the first place! This is literally - and I mean the actual definition of the word - your fault. I’m not dying over some fucking nerd. Not after all the shit I’ve been through today.”

Benji bit his lip. His body began to shake. While saying his bit released some of the pent up anger boiling within, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Joules regretted them. Sure, it might have been Benji’s fault, but they were all mixed up in things they couldn’t control. Besides, regardless of his feelings for the guy, now was hardly the time to ream the kid. That could wait until after they’d made it out.

“I don’t want to die, Joules,” Benji said. “Please, help me.”

The kid was lucky; he’d caught Joules right as he’d begun to grow a conscience.

Joules put a reassuring, but still bloody hand on Benji’s shoulder, the anger now almost completely spent. “You’re not gonna die today. I won’t let that happen.”

“Really?”

Joules didn’t have any siblings, but he imagined this is what it must feel like to be an older brother getting wrapped up in his younger brother’s bad decisions. It didn’t matter how they got there; what mattered at that moment was how Joules could get them out in one piece. To that end, he didn’t have anything prepared, but he’d coasted on blind luck so far.

“Really,” Joules said, squeezing Benji’s shoulder. “I’m gonna kick your ass so hard that you’ll be thankful you’re already in a wheelchair when this is over, but I’m not gonna let you die.”

Tito Castillo lowered his rifle. His first shot had killed someone, but it hadn’t been his target. The pulsing in his shoulder told him that there was still a Stand user insider. No, he thought, there were two of them.

He’d taken the hit out on Mr, Roboto without question. Though he’d worked with the enigmatic information broker in the past, he held no particular love for the man. A job was a job, and there would always be someone else who needed his services. The sizeable fee, well above what he normally charged, went a long way, too. He’d bought himself quite a bit of R and R when the job was done, and he was looking forward to it.

Stand users didn’t concern him. Despite the wondrous and often inexplicable powers they possessed, they were still mortal. And a 5.56mm round through the frontal lobe didn’t care about Stands.

That wasn’t to say he never took precautions, though. Among his targets, both those with Sands and those without, Stand users often proved to be much more defiant, and the unique abilities of Stands made each job different. Castillo welcomed the challenge. He’d killed nearly two dozen people before he’d even acquired a Stand of his own, and it had almost gotten boring. More than the money, the thrill of each new kill since he’d awakened to his potential kept him coming back for more. There would always be someone new to test himself against. The problem for them was that Castillo had yet to fail any of those tests.

During his time hunting other Stand users, he’d developed a keen understanding of the star-shaped jewel embedded in his shoulder. It was like a second voice in his head, one that was never wrong, never second guessed itself. He’d learned early on to listen and interpret the feelings that rushed outward from the stone.

Now, his stone told him there were two Stand users inside the lobby.

He hadn’t explicitly prepared for that possibility, but improvisation was vital for a man in his line of work. While the specifics of Mr. Robotos [Paranoid Android] were a closely guarded secret, it was generally understood that the Stand was all but useless in combat, existing entirely in the internet. In that domain, Mr. Roboto was king, but in the real world, he might as well have been just a regular person, indistinguishable from the billions of other people.

He come expecting an easy job, but the presence of a second Stand user would force him to change his plans. He had no idea what the other was capable of, which put him at a disadvantage, no matter how small. You didn’t get to be as old as Tito Castillo in his line of work if you took wild chances. While he’d never met a Stand use that could defeat [30 Seconds to Mars], he hadn’t yet met every Stand user. If he intended to stick around long enough to collect on the bounty the Five to One had on Mr. Roboto, he couldn’t afford to get sloppy.

He leveled the rifle, bracing it against his shoulder. Through the scope, he couldn’t see the two men inside, but there was only one place they could have gone. A large desk was the only thing standing between Castillo and his payday.

He heard the high pitched whine of a golf cart. So, the first responders had arrived. A shame. He liked to be in and out before the authorities got involved; not that they were a problem, but he didn’t get paid to kill them. Unfortunately, they’d have to die.

The car came to a stop half a dozen yards away. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched two men in uniform step out. They weren’t even real police. They must have realized their mistake, as one of the men reached for a radio on his belt. Without taking his eye off of the desk in the lobby, he fired two shots in the space between heartbeats. They struck the desk, but Castillo didn’t have any notion that he’d hit his target. The next moment, two more shots rang out, striking the uniformed men in the chests. All the while, Castillo kept the desk in his sights.

Whether it was his Stand that warned him or just dumb luck, Joules threw his around around Benji and brought them both to floor. The desk splintered as two shots pierced the particle board and terminated in the wall behind them. Less than a second later, two more shots cut the silence, and Joules heard the dying shrieks of two others.

“Campus PD is down,” Benji said, still watching the inside of his glasses. “I think I saw his Stand, but it was too quick.”

Joules tried to focus. If there were a way to get Lorelei’s attention, they would be in the perfect position to ambush Castillo from behind. If they were still parked outside, there was a good chance they’d heard the shots.

“Benji, is my car still at the gates?”

“What?” Benji asked. It took a split second for his brain to process. “Yes, right, one moment.”

[Paranoid Android] cruised through the school’s network, arriving inside the security feed pointed at the road in front of the gates.

“They’re gone,” Benji said.

Joules’ heart sank, though he tried not to show it. He was the one who’d need to get them out. His mind flashed to Lorelei. Had she been disappointed that he’d not come back? Would she even care? Perhaps she felt nothing towards him; the debt owed to Joules for her life had been explained and paid for by the Speedwagon Foundation. There was nothing else binding Joules to her.

Son of a bitch.

“Looks like there won’t be any calvary,” Joules said. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“We need to find a way to either draw Castillo within range of your Stand or distract him so that we can escape out the fire exit located on either end of the hall. If we get out of sight, we may have a chance of catching him off guard.”

“How likely do you think that is?” Joules asked.

“Well, he can’t stay there forever. Eventually, the police will arrive. He won’t be able to handle an entire department responding to an active shooter.” Benji furrowed his brow as if performing some mental calculation. “At least, I don’t think he could. I’m still not sure what his Stand is capable of.”

“I think I could go my whole life without finding out,” Joules said. “But if we stay here, then I definitely will.”

“I propose a solution,” Benji said. “Run. Run as fast as you can towards the fire exit. If you’re quick, and more than a little lucky, you should be out of sight by the time he notices.”

“And if you’re wrong, '' Joules countered, “then he blows me away, and there’s nothing stopping him from finishing the job.”

“You're not the distraction,” Benji said. “I am.”

Logically, it made sense. Castillo was on a tight schedule. After murdering two security officers, he’d have the entire China Grove Police Department plus S.W.A.T teams surrounding this place any minute. He couldn’t afford to play the waiting game forever. If given the choice between Joules and Benji, the pragmatic choice, in Joules’ mind, would be to go for the target then dip. He could always deal with Joules later, but the advantage would be gone.

Despite all that, it still pissed Joules off.

“I told you I’m gonna get you out of here,” Joules said. “I can’t do that if you’re the bait.”

“Stopping Castillo is more important,” Benji said. “He cannot be allowed to leave. I don’t want to die, but you have a better chance of finishing the job. Get out, find the Foundation. [Paranoid Android] will begin dumping files to your school email address. If I don’t make it, everything you need to know will be there.”

Joules shook his head. It wasn’t fair - none of this was. He hated feeling like a pawn in an unwinnable game. He opened his mouth in protest, but Benji cut him off.

“This is all my fault, remember?” he said with a wry smile. “Let me fix it. Just be ready to run.”

“If we make it out of this, I’m gonna kill you,” Joules said, forcing a smile.

“I’m looking forward to that. Now, go!”

Benji hoisted himself up with his arms, popping out over the desk. The second he moved, Joules broke out into a sprint. He had just passed the line of sight, home free, when he turned around and saw Benji, propping himself up in defiance.

Joules heard the sound of the shot. A microsecond later, [Do Dope Fuck Hope] materialized. Time seemed to slow as his Stand grabbed the toppled chair and tossed it into the path of the bullet. The bullet impacted the chair, sending stuffing, springs, and shattered plastic in every direction. Joules locked eyes with Benji. Instead of a smile, he saw only horror on the youg man’s face.

“His Stand!” Benji screamed.

Before the debris of the exploding chair hit the ground, Joules felt something pierce his stomach. He stumbled back, all the breath knocked out of him. He put his hand to the damp redness pooling onto his shirt. He saw Benji crawl back behind the desk, shouting in terror. All he felt was a dark and icy confusion. He looked back up at Castillo, still aiming his rifle in the direction of Benji.

Joules fell to his knees. The world around him blurred and spun. His hands were sticky with blood. His blood. The last thing he saw was his crimson stained hands before he collapsed to the floor.