When Wilson woke, the sun was not yet up and Jim was sleeping flat on his face with his butt raised up to the sky in a funny manner. He was even snoring. Wilson shook his head and sat up, only to see the cage with a certain someone also sleeping in an awkward manner.
Shorty stood on one leg with the other leg pushing against a cage bar. His back rested on the opposite bar and his head slanted to rest on a nearby bar. It looked somewhat uncomfortable yet he made it look like a nice sleeping position.
What's more, he was also snoring and when Wilson listened closely, he realized both snoring men made two distinct sounds that blended together in a certain rhythm.
Shorty was snoring grandly and deeply while Jim's had a slightly lighter pitch with a small wheezing sound at the end that sounded like a whistle.
Wilson looked at his bandaged hand and sighed. As much as he loved fights, he hated the fights he had been getting into. What was the point if he was always at a disadvantage and was always having to escape with his life, although barely. He wanted to become a wrestler, that was his dream, not to become a fugitive, a failed rebel and a constant victim of circumstances. That is really not a good way to live....no...this couldn't even be called living. This was merely surviving.
He always wanted to explore the world, just not like this. He wanted to fight, just not like this. He wanted to make his mum proud but only ended up leaving her with a broken heart and if she saw what he had become, she would probably have an heart attack. That's if she has not already heard and had an heart attack. Seems like the unseen forces of the world were punishing him for being disobedient to a woman who gave birth and devoted her life to taking care of him. In a way, he deserved what happened to him.
He continued to have these thoughts as the dawn slowly came and was quickly replaced by the fall of snow and warm sunshine. Jim woke up.
"Uhh!" Jim groaned as he sat up. He looked at Wilson who sat cross-legged with a distant look on his face.
"How are you?" He asked.
"I am alright." Wilson answered.
"Can you walk?"
"Yes!"
"What should we do about him?" Jim asked, nodding at the still asleep Shorty in the cage.
"We should probably kill him. He tried to kill is after all."
"Okay, you do it." Jim quipped and stood up to stretch, turning his back to the Wilson and Shorty and walked away. He did not want to experience another death. Too mentally unnerving. He was surprised he did not have any nightmares yet.
"I can't kill him." Wilson suddenly said after a moment of silence.
"Why?" Jim asked without looking back.
"I cannot kill anyone in cold blood, especially when asleep like him. It is too different from killing a person in a battle to the death." Wilson explained with a shake of his head. He grunted and stood up.
"Me neither!" Jim supported that thought pattern. He turned around and continued; "But he is better off dead, right?"
Wilson nodded. He totally agreed that someone like Shorty should not be left to live as he would only cause them to remain on their toes, unable to relax. The question was who was willing to do the dirty job?
They looked on in thought, not knowing what to do. Jim suddenly slapped his head in realization.
"Why did I not think about this before?" He muttered as he hurriedly walked towards the cage. He quietly tapped on a small button at the bottom and ran away. Wilson did not even bother asking. He immediately picked up the space bag that Jim had forgotten in his hurry and followed behind him at high speed.
*BOOOOOOM!!*
The sound of an explosion rang out loud. The button Jim had pressed was the explosive trigger in the cage. In truth, he and Wilson did not understand how something that big, useful and destructive could be contained in a piece of paper, no matter how special the paper was, but someone made it possible.
And so, Shorty was dead. That simply. He died without knowing how and could even be said to have died in his sleep, albeit in a different manner from the usual 'dying in one's sleep' stereotype.
"That is very....." Wilson started but could not finish his sentence out of lack of words to accurately express what he felt.
"Let's just go." Jim said, not willing to revisit what just happened. He grabbed his bag from Wilson, turnedand just kept walking with Wilson following right behind him.
They walked on and on through the day, only stopping sometime in the afternoon to take a short break and eat some beef jerky out of Jim's food reserve. Jim on the way talked on and on, explaining everything about civilization that came to mind like a teacher and Wilson also taught him about life in the village, which was basically a remote place far away from any form and knowledge of civilization.
About mid-afternoon, when they had taken their short break and we're ready to move. Jim began to talk about the various existing types of vehicles, their uses and famous brand names, when all of a sudden, he remembered something.
"F*CK!" He cursed aloud. The sudden change in expression took Wilson by surprise and he gave Jim a questioning look.
"I should have taken the hunter's smartwatch before blowing him up. If I had, at least we would have a way to know where we are and where we should go." Jim explained. His face contorted as if he was suffering from constipation.
Wilson gave him a long hard look before muttering; "Stupid!"