As they ran from the crowd of angered hyper-religious protesters, Howard Jones and this dark stranger ducked into an empty alleyway and hid there. They caught their breaths and tried to see if they had lost the angry mob.
"We're in the streets now. They probably won't follow after us with their guns and stones out in public." Howard said, though he was actually doubtful.
The stranger by his side did not say anything, only observing him. Howard felt almost as if his gaze was wrapping around him like fine cloth, and it made him a little uncomfortable.
He decided to break the silence by asking a stupid question:
"Are you alright?"
Of course he wasn't alright. He was shirtless in the cold, with several scratches and wounds from the stones thrown at him. He also had a large gash on his hip where a bullet had grazed it.
But the man just chuckled, as if he just found their situation funny.
