Inside the cave - foosty, murky nothingness.

Trepidation t'were mein footfalls filled.

In the darkness something brushes against my bearded face - it could have been some bizarre strain of fookercreepers evolved to survive sans photosynthesis in this dark, grey place. The annexe cave of rim. Or it could have been the spiderweb of some fell arachnid funkbeast - or it could have been candy floss left by some erstwhile scout group, but I doubted this greatly. If it was going to be something, it was going to be something proper annoying like - well, I digress. I drove on...

Hom-ken was behind me I knew that much. But I hadn't seen that forboding dot behind me for three days. I drove on. Hunger tore at my gut like a wild hinterbeast. Thirst burned my thorax like sulphunk acid. Hunger and thirst had claimed me as their bitch. I didn't like being a bitch. It wasn't nice.

I felt my way like a blind pervert. Crevasses shaped my footing. Small ditches and decaying rock made the going tough, and the strange crispy sounds under my bare feet were disconcerting and a total hassle.

And then, by perchancery, I came like liquid milk upon a small crevice off the main route of the ancient cave ways. I had to turn my body quick-style into the sharp space, from which a kink of light came and a strange human musk - the smell of sweat and hair and too much crying.

And there. There. In the darkness. Rambling Bob.

His eyes, thin and with little behind them searched me for signs of hostility or friendship. Neither of which, judging by his emaciated man frame - he would be able to do anything about.

I reached out. Offered him something human. He sighed - relieved, finished.

"I never...I never"

"Don't try to speak, Bob. Take mein hand. Sorry my speach diverts to German when I am distressed"

"I never doubted you'd come, Jez"

"Mein ramblor colleaguen freshen" I wept.

My heart was lifted by his acknowledgement. It gave me added strength. I cradled him in my arms like a small ostrich.

"Jez..." He spluttered.

"Sssh. Ich bein back"

"The, the..."

"Nein, Bob. Rest now."

"No, no, you have to..."

"Sssh" I shook him like I was soothing a child gonk.

"Jez. My beard is caught in your belt"

I looked down and saw that this was true. His long, Bible beard had caught in my rope belt. We shared a laugh.

Then the blade.

It cut deep into my shoulder.

I dropped Bob and fell. Blood, crimson blood in the darkness.

Hom-Ken.

The Scroturai assassin.

The relentless pursuer.

The death in his eyes.

The total hassle.

Jez