you're nobody till somebody kills you

[Buko]

I'm tryna push you to supreme being!
You don't wanna motherfuckin’…
You don't wanna embrace your destiny!
You just wanna get by!
You don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark…
Where it's lonely!
You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain…
Of the motherfuckin', not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop!

Rap lyric for everything, that much remained the same in spite of all that had changed.

His feet dragged and his shoulders sagged, the blue brim of his baseball cap doing little to protect him from the sun. He had been in a trance for what seemed to be quite a few hours. The announcement had came and went, not bringing his name but bringing information--two-fold: Tirzah had been telling the truth about Wyatt. Or her own Tirzah version of it. It also confirmed the identity of Jackson's killer: Justin Greene. He had killed before and twice more after Jackson. There was another mission to fuck up. There was a mission he had already fucked up. So now he was doing fuck up Double Jeopardy. That was just his style.

He hoped, silently, that Tirzah would put a hole in his head after throwing the chili on his face. That seemed her style. That thought nearly forced a smile.

Prolly why he pushed those thoughts away.

He had bigger shit to worry about now. Or at least in this moment.

Where was he going? What was he doing? What now? What did this mean? What would people think? What would people do?

All good questions—none were the most prominent in his head.

No, the prominent question came from the sobs of his heart rather than the screams of his mind. He ignored the other questions and instead focused on the one posed by his pulse: repeating itself constantly to the tune of it’s own pounding percussion.

Not what he was doing or what he was going to do but instead...

What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?

[Ace Beats Continued From: The Information Paradox ]

It had been raining for days—at least in the early part of the week.

The East Housing section looked like it had been storming for years.

The only buildings he had spent time in during his time on the island had been the Leadership Houses and the Infirmary. He hadn’t really felt at home or felt like those places had been homey. He never thought of the people who had been on the island before them, not really. This section of the island though, caused him to pause a bit.

It almost looked like, maybe, something resembling regular people had lived here once…just, ordinary folks. Like his Mom, his Dad and him. Maybe, he thought, regular people had lived and laughed and loved on this island...

Before storms, death and smoke took permanent residence.

He felt his feet ache, his once pristine adidas now covered in muck and blood. White on white was a brave choice even in Chattanooga. He was obsessive about keeping them pristine. Was. The shit that used to matter.

I need to sit down…

He didn’t. Not right away. His body was done listening to his mind--Ace was more than happy to give it the wheel.

This place smelled of smoke and the smoke itself reminded him of something else. He didn’t think about it, not consciously, but he was sure because he couldn’t subconsciously stop thinking about it that his body was moving towards it by as much instinct if not instruction.

The smell of smoke.

The scene of the crime.

A dilapidated house, burnt down. A ruin of a ruin.

He put his duffel bag down, unzipped it and brought out a protein bar he had scavenged.

He sat down in front of the house Indian style.

He took a bite of the bar with the shotgun in his lap.

[Deamon]

((Aliya Kimia Nemati continued from Code of Honor))

It took a good part of the day to descend down the island. It was a quiet journey as her thoughts took up most of her attention. She had wondered, as she stepped over roots and ducked over branches if her sisters would watch or if they had started would they have continued. She couldn't see her mother watching, it would have been too painful for her. As for her father, well, she couldn't see him see him watching more of a stubborn refusal to acknowledge her existence than anything else. But Maliheh and Meshia, they might have watched.

Regardless, she had made her way to the first real sign of civilization since she had woken up all that time ago. She was aware of the settlements that were on two points of the island but she had never made a trip to them. They had held up about as well as the rest of the island it seemed. Wooden debris from former homes littered the area, a storm had clearly crashed through the area at some point in the past. Boards and planks had been picked up and tossed aside as if they were nothing. The remains of people's lives destroyed, a clear parallel to their situation.

The announcement had mentioned something about them being past halfway and Aliya assumed that was the reason for the lack of people. The population of the island had been steadily thinned out over a period of days. A concerted effort made by her peers, not that it was their fault, but it was by their hands the island had been steadily returned to its former emptiness. They'd had no other choice or option though.

As she walked she caught sight of someone she recognized. Ace was sat cross-legged in front of a burnt-out wreck of a building. Aliya could put two and two together when it came to the ruin and some information from the announcement. A failed attempt to signal help with a fire and two more people lost. But from the ashes she had found a friendly face, a friendly face she knew. As she approached she kicked some debris to give him a warning of her approach, and so that her call didn't make him jump.

"Hey Ace!" She called to him with a wave. "Good to see you."

[Buko]

He wasn’t thinking, trying not to do much of that, so when he heard her—he immediately turned to her. Mouthful of protein bar, shotgun in his lap.

And what'd he do?

Shit! He waved back.

Like it was normal. Like they had passed each other in the hallway. Like it was all hunky-dory and so was he.

He choked down his lie and chased it with the protein bar. It was dry. Real dry.

“Yooooooooo,” he bellowed, like a human bullhorn and a weary smile came to his face, “Good to see you too.”

Instinct as much as instruction.

"What's good Aliya?"

And there was another good question. Better to get a second opinion. He could only handle one at a time.

[Deamon]

For a moment, everything was alright. They weren't on an island where they were expected to fight and die. They had a pure moment of two friends being happy to see each other. That was why it couldn't last. It was a moment that burned bright and then faded fast. Ace looked alright all things considered. She was sure he had been through some things over his week, but whatever had happened he didn't show it outwardly. His clothes did, they had dirt and blood staining them but so did hers. There was nothing special about having blood on you anymore.

But still, he looked well and that was only a positive. He hadn't appeared on any announcements either. That didn't account for if he'd killed anyone since the morning, but Aliya really hoped he hadn't. She didn't allow herself to dwell on that however, it was exactly the kind of paranoia that the terrorists wanted to generate. If she started thinking about how everyone she met could have killed she was only falling into their trap. There was no way she was going to allow herself to do that. It had happened once with Paloma and it had only led to pain and suffering.

Ace waved back and she continued her approach.

"Being real? Not much." She said as she came to stop in front of him and started to stretch her aching legs out. "I lost some...Tony. I lost Tony this morning." Her hand went into her pack and withdrew a bottle of water. It was either one of hers or Tony's there was no way of knowing. "And I've just been traveling since then. Trying to keep my mind of it y'know?" There was a pause as she took two long gulps from the bottle.

"What about you?"

[Buko]

What about him?

She didn’t even know what she had asked…or maybe she did—of course she did.

She had been here a week just like him. They weren't gonna talk about the weather. The Titans.

Still…it felt, normal. It was silly, truly—but he had always liked Aliya or felt a special kinship with her. Their relationship wasn’t deep or nuanced. She was an athlete and she liked hip-hop, so duh! Ipso-facto! She was a friend.

How simple shit once was.

But, things appeared to be simple again, at least for a moment. As he chewed his protein bar and she stretched and drank her water. Burnt down house aside. Collars aside. This wasn’t a particularly deep or nuanced moment.

"I'm sorry," he swallowed, " 'bout Tony."

Just two friends being friendly.

“Been travelin’ on my own for a bit too…,” he said with an unease, “Was with Mei and Angie for a lil…buried Ramsey and Mei both…left Angie…didn’t really trust myself to be responsible for her after what happened to Mei…,” he drifted, he didn’t elaborate, “I got attacked by that Justin kid—didn’t know who he was. He thwacked me, took my gun and then killed Jackson with it. Got my gun back from him, ran away—because, y’know, that’s what I do. That's what I'm about.”

He was ranting a bit now. The kid with the motor mouth who would spill his life story with very little prompting. The introverted extrovert. Too honest for his own good. What he was talking about was so…not normal. Saying it so matter of fact was almost humorous. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t deserve to feel regular or normal. Not after what had happened. Not after what he had done.

“Ran into Blaise this mornin’."

He took the final bite of the protein bar, crumpled up the wrapping and tossed it on the floor next to him.

[Deamon]

Ace spoke of his own time on the island and she listened. As he did so he brought up the one name she didn't want to hear. Justin. She knew about what Justin had been doing. It was hard to miss it given his most famous actions were announced to the island as a whole. He had killed more and had tried to add Ace as a tally. Her own failure to contain him continually rippling out to impact others. Given what the announcements said about Justin, Ace was lucky he had managed to get away with his life. Jackson hadn't been so lucky.

Jackson, one of her wrestling teammates, he had been the one extremely drunk at Mikki's party. Aliya and Juliette had helped look after him. Now he too was gone. Another result of the butterfly effect that seemed to govern her life. That was an added consideration if she ever ran into Justin again. As hypothetical a scenario as it was she had found herself occasionally drifting to it, thinking of different permutations of how the encounter would play out. The truth was that all of her visualization was pointless. There was no way she could predict what would happen or what state either of them would be in. She couldn't even predict what condition either of them would be in if they did meet again. That was all taking for granted the fact that there was no guarantee that they would even cross paths again.

Blaise...Aliya took a moment to process the name. She knew of the person, it was hard not to, like Justin they featured on the morning announcements regularly. It just took her a moment to place a face to the person. Once she did it all fell into place. It didn't shock Aliya that someone like that had decided to actively take part in the game, which while sounding like confirmation bias was more a case of reality. Ace didn't elaborate on the encounter, which was odd. He was open about what happened with Justin and Jackson, but his encounter with Blaise was reduced to a simple statement.

She couldn't help keep a frown from briefly flashing across her face.

"What happened with that?"

[Buko]

“Nuthin’ good.”

He shook his head and looked towards his palms…

“Dante was my friend,” he said uneasily, “I don't know nuthin’ ‘bout Blaise other than they killed my boy day one…and then kept on killin’. Didn’t know nuthin’ other than they're a monster and they needed to be stopped.”

He opened and closed his hands together. Over and over. Trying to find a beat. Trying to get himself to shut up. Trying to put sense to words or words to sense or whatever would be best in this instance.

He was so eager to stop thinking…

And now he was so eager to keep talking.

“I had the jump on ‘em, they were by a fire--Blaise and someone else…I had a shot…”

“We coulda won. I coulda won it. I coulda been the hero...it was my moment..."

“I took it."

And all of a sudden--he was very much eager to keep silent.

"I missed 'em."

All of a sudden, in spite of all that effort to do otherwise--he couldn’t stop thinking.

[Emprexx Plush]

((Hel Fury Continued From @shdwmstr recordings and transcripts june 16th))

They couldn't say 100% since they'd never seen what it was supposed to look like, but Hel figured they liked the village a lot more after nature moved in than before.

Cookie cutter neighborhoods scared the shit out of Hel. Big, small, didn't matter. Driving through felt like they'd turn the wrong corner and not be able to find the road again. Take their eyes off the rear view and thee ones behind them would close ranks, keep their eyes off the road and the ones ahead would bend around in circles just quick enough that they didn't notice. When they caught that Miéville story about houses like wild animals it made a scary amount of sense; neighborhoods like that hunted in packs, or maybe more like a hivemind. If there was a queen somewhere at the center either you'd be dead or they all would before you saw her. They had to wonder where the fear came from before then, though. Could be that those neighborhoods were rich people country. They weren't broke, y'know, Dad'd made most of the money before the split and Mama didn't have the kinda spite to bleed him so not much had changed. It could be worse. Before and after though they'd lived in run down places. Attics you didn't open because you were afraid what might live up there. Basements that flooded in the heavy rain but some fool had put carpet in them anyway. Black mold and ants in the walls. No streetlights 'cuz if you were young enough to be up and around when the sun went down you probably didn't want anyone to see what you were doing. They kinda preferred it like that. The endless list of shit that needed fixing they'd never get around to, it felt honest to their situation.

Keep that whole architecture as metaphor for your place in life metaphor going and it wasn't a surprise they were drawn to the burnt out ruin. The gun staying holstered out of sight when they heard voices shouldn't have been one either, even when they heard 'I missed 'em' with enough clarity to infer what they were talking about. They kept walking like a moth too dazed to realize the flames had long gone out until they saw somebody. They raised a hand in what coulda been a wave. The look across their face they were generously calling a smile was supposed to follow along with it, but it spread slow on delay a second, maybe two, behind. "Hey."

'I missed 'em.' He didn't sound angry. Like, ah, shit, I missed 'em, maybe next time. Or I missed 'em, bullshit, sun got in my eyes. Sounded a lot like regret actually, maybe that was projecting though. The thought pulled their smile a little tighter. "Y'all fuck it up too?" They weren't 100% on what they were asking. Words felt right, that's all.

[Deamon]

So Ace had missed. It wasn't that big a deal. If anything it could have been better for him. He wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that he had taken someone's life. He didn't have to live with something he would regret. But then that didn't explain how uncomfortable he seemed to be and his reluctance to go into much detail. Maybe he was embarrassed by his lapse in control. Violence begot violence after all. Ace was smart, he knew that. He hadn't shown up on any announcements so clearly killing wasn't something he wanted to do. But then...then as she thought about what he'd said it all clicked into place.

There was an implication to what Ace was saying, but the true meaning from what he was omitting. Aliya felt like a moron for not realizing it straight away. Ace had only missed Blaise and here she was asking dumb questions about what had happened. Not even noticing or realizing what was happening.

"I'm sorry." She offered, because that was all she could do for him. Nothing could undo what he had done.

She didn't pry any further down that avenue of the conversation. If Ace wanted to tell her anymore he would in time. She wasn't going to force him. There was a thought that she should sit with him and comfort him but she didn't act on it. It was too forward, she didn't know him well enough. He might not even have wanted her to do it. Instead, she just stood there silently until someone else emerged. Another person she recognized. Hel Fury, her actual name was Helena but Aliya couldn't think of a time anyone had ever called her Helena. Not as long as she had known her. Not that she really knew her as such, she more knew of her. But she had always seemed friendly.

Approaching them like she had approached Ace, Hel asked them a question of her own.

Aliya shrugged.

"I did a few days ago, it finally caught up with me today."

[Buko]

If Aliya had given him a taste of normalcy--Hel Fury seemed to shove it down his throat.

He didn’t really know Hel much better than he knew Aliya. Knew of them. They rolled with Andy and Axel and them guys. Had a band. Ace thought it was whack rock music, but whatever, everybody had to have a scene. He didn’t pay much attention to Hel. 'Save a whale, spear a fat chick'—he missed Wyatt. Fuckin’ ignorant, kinda racist, definitely misogynistic, obnoxious, grande por gusto, MAGA cap wearing piece of shit.

He was still a friend. A brother. He seemed borderline invincible the majority of these four years. Big, strong and resilient. Teflon.

And now he was gone. Him and about 60 others. Who woulda thunk it?

“Y’know what’s really fucked up?”

He felt himself choke as he looked towards Hel and then Aliya and then once again down to his dirty shoes…

“I don’t even know the kid's goddamn name."

He blinked—hard. He wanted tears to come, he wanted to cry. He wanted to feel the release of pressure in his face and the relief of letting go of the burden he was carrying with him.

What was that whack rock song? Can't always get what you want.

“They didn’t even put ‘em on the announcements…”

Could you picture it? Ace eagerly listening for his name on the announcement, eager to know the name of his victim and gain any sort of knowledge or fuel for the raging fire that was his guilt? The terrorists didn't give it to him. He took it personally. Like it was on purpose. Considering the whole setting and premise--why wouldn't it be?

“They won’t even let me know who I have to feel bad about. They makin' me wait. They twistin' the knife."

And the not knowing, not really, made it hard to feel bad. Really and truly.

The fact that it was so hard to feel bad—made him feel worse. The cycle continued.

"It's fucked up."

[Emprexx Plush]

Hel had rolled up here thinking they were having a conversation about the folks they'd lost and the mistakes they made trying to keep 'em. From the way Aliya talked seemed like she did too. It was messed up how comfortable that felt after a few days but right now they kind of wanted it. Hel didn't know either of them all that well but as far as the football bros went Ace was pretty okay and Aliya...they reached for a joke, something about how gay they were for buff wifes, but it hurt too much. They couldn't imagine wanting anyone, feeling anything, in the void this morning had left and the worst part? There was this cold logical piece of shit part of them that wanted them to start moving on. That it didn't matter, Axe wouldn't want them hurting for him for the last few days of their life, he would want them to joke, he would want them to be comfortable, fuck if they could manage it he'd want them to have a whole bacchian orgy and name it in his honor and it hurt just to think those words but it's what he'd want. It pushed farther than that though. Say all of that was bullshit, it still wanted them to jump on some Tim Minchin vibes, y'know sing along if you know the words: if I didn't have you to share my sighs, if I didn't have you to hold me and dry my tears when I cry, well I really think I would have somebody else. If i didn't have you, somebody else would do.

This ugly thing inside them that didn't want to hurt anymore wanted him to not matter, and on some long term objective time heals all wounds mindset that could be the right call. They wanted it to matter though. They were going to hold on to that hurt to their last minutes here. It was their anchor now. As long as they held on to how it tore them up to watch him go they wouldn't drift off. The gun would stay at their side. Sometimes pointed out to keep people safe. Not back at them though. As long as there was somebody who still gave a shit about them, they wouldn't put them through this hurt by choice. That selfish weight inside them got heavier and heavier, but maybe they could cut some of it by having a chat with a couple people who hadn't gone full on feral and knew what it was like to fuck up how they did. Gods what a relief that would be, right?

Ace decided they were having a whole different kinda conversation.

He'd killed somebody and he, fuck, he didn't even know who. Nobody did. If he hadn't told on himself they could have all walked away until the next morning, but now the whole climate shifted. They glanced between him and Aliya, but they didn't know what to say. Lorenzo'd made it so easy, the bastard reveled in what he did so when the time came drawing on him, it was the only choice. But this. Fuck. They knew it wasn't rational, some grief projection thing that they shouldn't be indulging, but when they looked at how fucked up he was over a heat of the moment mistake.

Goddamn.

All they could see was a dozen different ways Axe could have ended up if things had gone different.

They felt their body trying to cry, but it was too soon. They were running on empty. "Why'd you wanna kill..." But they trailed off. They hadn't caught the name he was aiming at.

[Deamon]

Aliya felt for Ace, she really did. She couldn't put herself in his position, after all, she hadn't taken anyone's life. But his grief and guilt spoke to her own situation. She could emphasize and it seemed that at the moment Ace needed someone who would be able to do that for him. So fuck it. Why not her? She had two younger sisters, both of which she cared about, one of whom liked her. She'd brought Meshia into pro-wrestling and she had looked after her through her training. There was something about that. She'd been there when Meshia was at her lowest when she'd thought she was terrible and wouldn't amount to anything. She'd been through it herself. Was it anything close to what Ace was going through? No. But it was experience she could use.

She slowly moved closer and crouched in front of him.

"Hey," She started. "You killed someone and you've gotta carry that now. You made the choice to shoot that gun and tomorrow they're gonna tell you the name of who it was and you need to carry that too." Aliya looked at the boy in front of her and all she saw was someone who was scared and trying to make the best decisions he could. She had seen the exact same look before, back when it was the early days on the island. When she spoke again she kept her voice level and soft.

"You made a mistake, but you can't let it destroy you." She paused. "You can't let their death be meaningless."

[Buko]

Torn between two worlds and two reactions, he stared at Hel and at Aliya as personifications of both.

Hel as indecision and fear, regret-- Aliya as determination and calm confidence, tenacity and accountability. It appealed to him, in a visceral way. Perhaps she knew that. Maybe it was on purpose. When she knelt in front of him--she was all he saw. That was probably on purpose as well. He wasn't hard to figure out. Never had been.

She was dirty and wounded. She had been here seven days just like him. He saw something in her eyes and recognized its familiar feeling as one he possessed in the corner of his spirit. She was saying the right stuff. The shit he wanted to hear and thought he needed to. The shit he had been telling himself. Was it true? Or did he just want it to be?

Poison to a sucker’s mind like his.

“You’re right,” he reached into his pack and pulled out a water bottle and took a single, deep sip before putting it back in, “I know you’re right.”

He worked his way up, slowly, surely. He zipped up the bag. He placed it upon his shoulders. He felt a soreness in his feet and a weakness in his knees. Mind over matter. All the war was mental. Pain was weakness screaming as it died. Focus. Focus. Focus. He looked at Aliya and then away from her.

“I just dunno what to do," he said with a degree of resignation, "And you think that when the chips are down, it's gonna like, bring out the best version of you...? Like, that's what all the stories say, right? Ordinary people doin' the extraordinary. Doin' the unimaginable in face of the unthinkable. Startin' to think I'm not built like that tho. Prolly the opposite."

And wasn't that the truth. Plain as black and white, clear as night and day.

"Gotta keep tryin'...right? Still here, ain't I?"

He said to himself, then to Aliya.

"Gotta be for a reason."

He looked towards Hel, apologetic and sympathetic...

"Sorry you walked in on the middle of that," he said sheepishly, "I'm, uh, y'know," he tried to find the right words, "Yeah."

[Emprexx Plush]

Aliya gave, uh, maybe it was sorta deprecating to call it to speech but the next word that came to mind was a command and maybe that was sort of the vibe she was going for but it didn't sit right with them to assume that sorta authority in their relationship? Whatever you wanted to call it it hit Ace some kinda way. They didn't know if they liked it. That one little thread in there, 'gotta keep trying,' that could go a lotta ways. Ace could mean he had to keep trying like they all did to keep on living and with where they were at Hel wasn't about to get into that argument again, if he had something to hang on to that lifted his head then they weren't gonna be the one to shoot it down. Keep trying could mean keep shooting though. Gotta go for revenge. Gotta aim till you don't miss. Gotta push past the mistakes, if some folks got caught in the cross well you gotta do what you gotta do. Lines they'd heard so many times they could and probably did mumble them in their sleep some nights from Dad's cop dramas and war pics justifying the civilian casualty bubbled up in their brain and they went to open their mouth.

It hung.

It closed.

Maybe he'd fuck it up some more. They might hear his name on the wrong side of the announcements more times than they could keep track of, might even be that at some point it stopped being an accident. He was trying though. If it hurt this bad to fail then what he was aiming for had to mean something. They were all gonna die anyway. So why would they try to take that from him either?

It was kinda sweet in an ignorant way that he thought they could walk into anything worse than what they'd walked out of this morning. Triggered this guilt instinct in them like damn, Ace was the one shouldering the burden here and now and he was the one apologizing? How'd they fuck that up? Hel knew the split on how they handled that feeling, the instincts were all there and ready to fire. Either they could get into a loop of apologizing or they could play it off. The neurons fired down the road better traveled.

"No worries. My boyfriend died in my lap this morning, so this don't really rate man."

A billion other times in their life they'd twisted some fucked up thing that happened to them into gallows humor to diffuse. It didn't always work, there was a vibe to it, an expression and a tone and a cadence and what the fuck else ever their speech coach liked to go on about in that 90% of communication is non-verbal business that you had to nail for it to really sell, but it'd never come out that lifeless. The instinct was there. The words had arranged themselves all on auto-pilot. Hel sure wasn't ready to say them though. They blinked with that weak-ass not-smile twitching at the corners trying to force some kinda appropriate recovery, but they came up spent.

[Deamon]

"No shame in not being built for it," Aliya said with an apologetic smile. "Some people just aren't and this is pretty fucked."

Aliya wasn't sure if she fully believed what she was saying. She wondered if maybe Ace would have done better with blunter or harsher words. Something that shocked his system, but she wasn't sure if that would help either. He already felt guilty about killing an innocent bystander, she didn't need to compound that feeling. In the end, it didn't really matter if she thought what she was saying was right or wrong. The fact she was trying to help him when he needed someone to talk to or even just talk at, that was what mattered. She could do that for him.

But, no matter how badly Ace was doing it seemed Hel was doing worse. Having never had a boyfriend she couldn't relate to that specific person but she imagined it was similar to losing a family member. Someone who you thought you'd be around your entire life. If Aliya put herself in Hel shoes she imagined she'd just feel empty. There were still more deaths and people they cared about to go. But how could they care about any of that going forward? Aliya couldn't imagine having to carry that weight at all, let alone by herself.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

And they did. They talked, sharing their regrets, experiences and remembering the friends they'd lost. Then, before they knew it the sun was going down so they moved inside and made a makeshift camp in one of the houses. Aliya wondered if maybe they could have been doing something more, she thought that she could have been working towards and goal or achieving something. But maybe that also just her own regret talking. Maybe it was good for them to take some time to just be present without having the overwhelming dread of their situation hanging over them.

But then night came, quickly followed by day and a new morning, with it coming the same heat as the day before. As Aliya emerged from their shelter into the early morning light she couldn't shake the feeling it all felt much the same. She sincerely hoped she wasn't becoming normalized to her situation, but after eight days she didn't discount it.

The early morning sun meant only one thing though, it meant that yet again they would subject to the only recurring ritual of their island lives. The list of names of the classmates they had lost and who had killed them being the only constant they had. Sadly, it was also some of the only information of value they got about their situation. That morning however it had extra significance for one of them.

Ace was going to find out who he had killed.