thing to do?
It doesn't matter , he told himself firmly. You don't even know how to contact the Guild, if it even exists, and anyway, Niall's got it under control. Stop thinking about it! But did Niall have it under control? How did he plan to stop Jacky? Cohen replayed the conversation over again in his mind, trying to remember if Niall had said anything specific about his plan to stop Jacky from killing again. He hadn't told Cohen anything really. Not why Jacky was killing people, or what could be done to stop him. Maybe Niall didn't know.
He pulled out his phone to check the time. He'd been walking for over an hour. His stomach gave a little jolt of panic and he had to reassure himself that the location of the sun meant he was definitely walking in the right direction. It was just a longer walk than he'd suspected. His feet were beginning to blister, and the sun washot overhead. He pulled his hoodie off and made a disgusted face when he realised he'd begun to sweat. He tied it around his waist (very fashionable) and picked up his pace a little. He was going to look a right sight when he got into town. Good thing he wasn't looking to make friends or impress anyone.
By the time the little town came into view over a hilltop, Cohen was sweating profusely. His breath was ragged, and he was certain his feet were bleeding. He wanted nothing more than a cold shower and a soft bed, neither or which he was likely to find in town. Oh well, he was only here for petrol. He'd find the nearest petrol station, grab a can and... lug it all the way back to his house. He sighed heavily. He really hadn't thought this through very well.
Witton was really a tiny town. From his vantage on the hilltop, Cohen could see the single main street that cut directly through the town, with only a few small streets branching off in different directions. It was beautifully quaint though, even from far away. Cohen could see that the houses were painted various colours, packed tightly together in town and then becoming increasingly sparse as they crawled away into the countryside like colourful blocks. The sun was high in the sky now, causing him to shade his eyes and squint, but he thought he could see a petrol station.
He caught his breath, tightened his hoodie around his waist and began the trek down to town. A solitary car passed by him, but didn't slow down long enough for Cohen to see the driver. It was only another fifteen minutes or so before the petrol station came into view, luckily on the outskirts of town. It was a flat, metal building with only one pump, but what looked like a rather large convenience store attached to it. Cohen rushed towards it, grateful for the shade. He didn't see any petrol cans for sale outside, so he pulled the glass door open and stepped inside.
A bell jingled as the door shut behind him, and Cohen looked around at the dimly lit shop. He felt chilled, and realised that he had been sweating a bit. He quickly untied his hoodie and pulled it on, feeling slightly gross.
"Cohen?" said a familiar voice, and Cohen blanched. Niall was emerging from behind the counter, a concerned look on his face. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh," said Cohen, feeling his face heat up with sparks of embarrassment. "You would work here."
"Why, do I suit it?" asked Niall, looking amused, until his face became serious suddenly. "You look exhausted. Did you walk here?"
"I needed petrol. I thought I'd just walk to town and surely I wouldn't meet anyone I know between home and the petrol station—"
Niall walked towards him, still looking concerned. "Cohen, do you remember last night when I told you to be careful?"
"My car wouldn't start, what was I supposed to do?" asked Cohen, exasperated. "Anyway, it's the middle of the day, and there was no one around."
"You—" Niall crossed his arms, his face a mixture of annoyance and concern. He looked as handsome as always, although perhaps a little wan. "You walked all the way here, to get petrol,"
It doesn't matter , he told himself firmly. You don't even know how to contact the Guild, if it even exists, and anyway, Niall's got it under control. Stop thinking about it! But did Niall have it under control? How did he plan to stop Jacky? Cohen replayed the conversation over again in his mind, trying to remember if Niall had said anything specific about his plan to stop Jacky from killing again. He hadn't told Cohen anything really. Not why Jacky was killing people, or what could be done to stop him. Maybe Niall didn't know.
He pulled out his phone to check the time. He'd been walking for over an hour. His stomach gave a little jolt of panic and he had to reassure himself that the location of the sun meant he was definitely walking in the right direction. It was just a longer walk than he'd suspected. His feet were beginning to blister, and the sun washot overhead. He pulled his hoodie off and made a disgusted face when he realised he'd begun to sweat. He tied it around his waist (very fashionable) and picked up his pace a little. He was going to look a right sight when he got into town. Good thing he wasn't looking to make friends or impress anyone.
By the time the little town came into view over a hilltop, Cohen was sweating profusely. His breath was ragged, and he was certain his feet were bleeding. He wanted nothing more than a cold shower and a soft bed, neither or which he was likely to find in town. Oh well, he was only here for petrol. He'd find the nearest petrol station, grab a can and... lug it all the way back to his house. He sighed heavily. He really hadn't thought this through very well.
Witton was really a tiny town. From his vantage on the hilltop, Cohen could see the single main street that cut directly through the town, with only a few small streets branching off in different directions. It was beautifully quaint though, even from far away. Cohen could see that the houses were painted various colours, packed tightly together in town and then becoming increasingly sparse as they crawled away into the countryside like colourful blocks. The sun was high in the sky now, causing him to shade his eyes and squint, but he thought he could see a petrol station.
He caught his breath, tightened his hoodie around his waist and began the trek down to town. A solitary car passed by him, but didn't slow down long enough for Cohen to see the driver. It was only another fifteen minutes or so before the petrol station came into view, luckily on the outskirts of town. It was a flat, metal building with only one pump, but what looked like a rather large convenience store attached to it. Cohen rushed towards it, grateful for the shade. He didn't see any petrol cans for sale outside, so he pulled the glass door open and stepped inside.
A bell jingled as the door shut behind him, and Cohen looked around at the dimly lit shop. He felt chilled, and realised that he had been sweating a bit. He quickly untied his hoodie and pulled it on, feeling slightly gross.
"Cohen?" said a familiar voice, and Cohen blanched. Niall was emerging from behind the counter, a concerned look on his face. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh," said Cohen, feeling his face heat up with sparks of embarrassment. "You would work here."
"Why, do I suit it?" asked Niall, looking amused, until his face became serious suddenly. "You look exhausted. Did you walk here?"
"I needed petrol. I thought I'd just walk to town and surely I wouldn't meet anyone I know between home and the petrol station—"
Niall walked towards him, still looking concerned. "Cohen, do you remember last night when I told you to be careful?"
"My car wouldn't start, what was I supposed to do?" asked Cohen, exasperated. "Anyway, it's the middle of the day, and there was no one around."
"You—" Niall crossed his arms, his face a mixture of annoyance and concern. He looked as handsome as always, although perhaps a little wan. "You walked all the way here, to get petrol,"
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