Should I help Deen carry the dead bodies? I craned my neck to see if she was already coming back. The dilapidated store blocked my view of the hills. She's taking so fucking long.

Or I was being an impatient bitch.

I imagined it was kind of hard to find the corpses of the guys I killed because I didn't give her helpful instructions. How was I supposed to describe those hills which looked similar to each other? Just rocks and sand everywhere. Plus, I couldn't see much earlier because I turned back into my Erind body to lure the last two frat boys to their deaths—their death was me.

Deen had already returned with two bodies several minutes ago, which meant she could find her way despite my dumbass instructions. She dumped the corpses onto the back of the pickup truck she crashed inside the store.

Two more left. After she brought those trash, we were going to change our clothes, throw those into the store as well, and set everything on fire.

I sat on the hood of Deen's car while waiting, swinging my legs like a kid—wait, I do look like a child! I immediately stopped doing it.

Deen had told me very firmly that it was almost an order to wait here by her car while she retrieved the dead guys. From her tone and actions, I could tell she didn't want me to get 'traumatized' further, which was absolutely hilarious.

Since I had nothing to do, I gazed at the highway. Might as well try to be a lookout. Three cars had passed by earlier, but they didn't slow down or show any signs that they saw anything weird. Everything was super quiet.

And super dark too. I didn’t turn on any lights so nothing would look suspicious to passersby.

“Ugh, this is so boring,” I groaned.

Maybe I could go and find Deen. I could hear ringing because it was too quiet, and I was getting pissed off staring at total darkness.

Just as I jumped off the car, I heard the crunch of gravel. Was Deen back? Finally!

The light of Deen's phone peeked out from the side of the store. I rushed to meet her; best friends should help each other carry corpses. But I stopped as I noticed something rolling on the ground. It hit my foot. Then the light shone on it.

A head?

Was it from those assholes? I couldn't recall if I decapitated someone among them.

Oh yeah, Main Character Guy. I almost forgot about him.

Looking to my side, I saw Deen carrying two corpses on her back. She looked down at the head next to me, then up at me. Did she drop this? And why did she have a horrified look on her face?

Hang on, I was supposed to be just regular Erind right now! "Ah!" Letting out a fake yelp, I jumped to the side. "Oh my god! Is that a head?" I said in an intentionally high-pitched voice as I valiantly suppressed a giggle. I sound so fucking dumb.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Deen muttered rapidly as she rushed to the head of Main Character Guy. The arms and legs of the corpses swayed as she shuffled forward.

"It's nothing. I-I was just surprised."

"Sorry that you had to see that. I wasn't kicking it...um, let me pick that up."

What the fuck? I assumed she dropped this head. But after she said that, I realized she was kicking it on the ground like a ball because she couldn't comfortably hold it with the rest of her baggage.

As she bent down to retrieve it, the bodies on her back, slick with blood, slid down and dropped to the ground. She inaudibly hissed something that was probably a curse before she caught herself.

"Let me help you," I said, stooping down to pick up the feet of the headless corpse.

"No! I can do it myself," she insisted as she struggled to keep the head tucked under her arm while trying to pick up the bodies again. "I told you to stay by the car."

In a way, it was comical. But it was also really creepy seeing Deen covered in blood. I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination, maybe I was tired and lacked sleep, but she looked even more beautiful in this state—kind of like feral and innocent in one go.

I recalled a serial killer movie with the twist that the hot blonde character turned out to be the killer. I enjoyed that movie, and Deen's look reminded me of it.

"I came looking for you because I was worried that you hadn’t returned yet," I said, making up a lie on the spot. It probably took her some time to find the separated head. I stooped down and picked up the legs of the headless body.

“I can do it—”

"I'm going to help you, okay?" I interjected. "This is my mess in the first place." Then I dragged the body to the hole in the store’s wall. I wasn't going to carry it and get more blood all over me. "Come on, let's throw them in so we can change clothes."

"Hmm...am I supposed to say sorry to you now?" I said with my hands on my hips.

We had just finished arranging all the dead guys and their body parts inside the store—I hoped we didn't miss any. Now, we were in front of the open trunk of Deen's car, staring at our luggage and the other stuff Deen packed for our 'long' road trip.

She prepared meals as if we were going to starve during our trip, even though we'd be on the road for at most half a day if there were heavy traffic in both La Esperanza and Las Vegas. Beside our packed lunch was a paper bag full of chips she impulsively bought from a convenience store we passed.

Was she expecting me to eat all of those? I knew she wasn't going to let a crumb of the salty snacks touch her lips.

While I appreciated the effort, it was still a wasted effort. But there was one thing she bought that was very useful—a large water jug.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" Deen pointed at the store. "For, um, that? No, Erind. I told you I'll be with—"

"I'm not talking about the dead guys, silly," I interjected before she could expound on her bleeding-heart script. I removed the water jug from the cramped trunk and set it on the ground. "I'm apologizing for teasing you for being overprepared earlier. Turns out, this water will come in handy for cleaning ourselves from the blood."

She breathed a sigh of relief, her shoulders visibly relaxing. "Oh...you mean that." Then she giggled, eventually allowing herself to chuckle. "Yeah, I guess I went a little overboard with everything here."

"You're a regular Girl Scout, aren’t you?" I said. "By the way, you packed some rubbing alcohol, right? I think that'd make it easier to wipe away the dried blood. More sanitary too." Ironic talking about being sanitary after ripping apart these guys.

"Of course I did," she said, taking a bottle out of her bag. "I'm not in the Girl Scouts though. There was a time that I wanted to join, but my mother won't allow me."

Blah, blah, blah. No one fucking cares about your backstory. “I think we should clean up behind the store,” I interrupted her, “so the light wouldn’t be seen from the road.”

Deen agreed to my idea. We rounded the store and found a rickety bench. I set the water jug on top of it. She placed the bottle of rubbing alcohol, towels, fresh clothes, and her phone with its flashlight turned on right next to it. This felt like we were murderers cleaning up evidence of our crime.

Oh, wait. We are doing exactly that.

"Um, time to take off our..." I awkwardly began to say.

Deen had seen me naked already. My clothes were torn and burned away by the grenade exploding in front of me after fighting the 2Ms. Perhaps I should still act embarrassed in this situation like I expected Deen to act. She should be more reserved.

But I was wrong because she was already undressing.

I supposed we were both girls, so it shouldn't be awkward for both of us. We were best friends on top of that; it wasn't surprising that she had no qualms about it. In high school, we cheerleaders changed in the dressing room with no embarrassment whatsoever.

I grabbed the hem of my shirt but didn't pull it up just yet. I observed Deen from the corner of my eye.

Because she carried corpses on her back, their blood drenched her clothes. It was so much blood that it seeped through the fabric and turned the back straps of her white bra into a deep red. It looked fucking expensive; I hoped she didn't mind that we'd just burn it.

I also noticed that the sleeve of her shirt was red with blood, as if she had a wound on her arm. There was gunfire earlier, but no way she'd get hit with her Guardian Angel guiding her. If this was something idiotic like letting herself get shot as a penance—before I could finish the thought, Deen pulled up her shirt over her head, and her freed boobs jiggled a bit in her bra as they dropped down.

Wow, that's somehow pissing me off, I thought as I also undressed.

Deen looked at our bloodied clothes and started sobbing.

"Deen, what’s wrong?" Of all the times she could break down, she chose now? Couldn't she have waited until we were in Vegas? "It's…it’s going to be all right." I wasn't sure if that was what I was supposed to say. It didn't sound fit for the situation, but I heard people say that when comforting others who were crying.

Then Deen suddenly hugged me. Large portions of our skin touching sent massive jolts of utter disgust and repulsion coursing through my body. I tensed my muscles, held my breath, and clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my skin. I'm going to rip your head off, you fucking bitch!

"Oh, Erind!" Deen cried out as she hugged me tighter. The sticky blood she had on her, midway to drying, rubbed onto me and made the experience ten times more disgusting. "I'm so glad that you're you again!"