RE419S | audio | Day 7

[aluminumandash]

[ Rust's voice comes over the walkie, urgent and forceful. ] Anyone in the area between the concrete structures where Martin and me were held—that's the foothills with, ah, a river to the south and the jungle ten hours to the west of the northeast coast, check in right the fuck now.

[ He thinks to type the rest out—some semblance of a record, something for people to refer back to for the while it's around—but five minutes punching little keys and he can't take it anymore. So his voice returns, matter-of-fact. ]

Officer de Guzman's dead. [ If anyone was hoping for a eulogy, it's not fucking happening. ] Took an arrow to the shoulder then was executed, from the sound of it, likely with his own firearm. He was in the region I just described, about a kilometer away from a wood cabin with no defenses or occupants he could discern. Guessing he walked into some kind of a trap. [ He concludes, irritation seeping into his voice. ]

Much as I hate to state the obvious, circumstances compel me to say: do not seek out the cabin. Hell, I'll say it twice: do not seek out the fucking cabin. You find yourself in an area suspiciously quiet and bereft of animal activity, turn around and go back the way you came.

The individual who killed him had a message for us. It follows.

[ After a short delay: ] The next animal I find here will die a much slower death. Tell your friends for me.


OOC: Replies subject to even more robust threadjacking than usual from Lalo!

Comments

Day 8! Same as Martin's.

[salamanca]

[ This is a confusing whirlwind of emotions that Lalo is not remotely equipped to process. Embarrassment at Cohle swooping so close to telling everyone what the creature had called him floods him, and then quickly disguises itself behind a shield of anger. But that melts away as quickly as it came, replaced by something Lalo doesn't have a name for.

Intimacy, I guess you might call it. Rust is talking about the cabin creature's encounter with him, not the two of them, but it relates to their situation too. Lalo thinks, anyway. He can imagine the liminal space between life and death, the one that he feels like he still hangs in now, still exists in now. It's hard to believe he's actually real. He's actually come back. He understands intellectually what it means to say someone is in a state of shock, but he's never thought that would be something that could apply to him.

There's something else, too. He doesn't need anyone's pity, he wants to say. They don't need to "hold" anything for him. Not Cohle, not Martin. He is fine.

But he wasn't fine yesterday, when Cohle was listening to him die on the walkie. He can imagine Cohle is reliving it now, for him, and feels a sudden burst of warm connection he again doesn't know how to process.

He swallows but his throat still feels dry. When he speaks, his voice rasps. Like the verbal equivalent of a car struggling to start. ]

Hey. Detective. Might be too late, but you know you don't gotta do all that shit, right? I'm fine. [ He isn't, and it probably shows even though he tries to hide it. ] Or, I will be fine, anyway. [ That is true. He will be fine. Eventually. ] You can relax.

[ A pause. Lalo's energy shifts a little, but it's not in a bad way. ]

"Stumbling around in the jungle?" Hey, fuck you, man. [ But there's a light laugh, a levity in his voice. It's more playful than angry, jesting more than offended. It's you, and you saved him, so he'll let you live, this time. Besides, he can see the benefits of you thinking of him that way. Easier for him, better for him, if you're not inclined to scrutinize someone you think is stumbling around. ]