Tyrone didn't need a long rest, at least not as long as he'd been resting now. Over ten minutes had passed but he was lost in an internal battle between himself and his constructed conscience.
From an early age, Tyrone had noticed a few things different about himself compared to other people. Oftentimes, he felt like he was half and some parts of him were missing. For starters, he lacked compassion for the dead. And he had a logical explanation for it too; the dead don't feel pain or loss or anything, only the people left behind get hurt.
But other people feel compassion for the dead. Too many times, he'd heard, "Poor him" or "Poor her." And sometimes he felt they were instead fortunate to find rest and peace whereas the living had to keep fighting another day.
And with these thoughts in mind, he sat here in conflict. Why did he not feel guilty for killing the first mercenary?
He wasn't exactly apathetic; it was something else; he felt unworthy. Who was he, after all, to take something so sacred as a life? To cut short a man's experiences and deprive him of all his could bes? Now, having acted presumptuously, Tyrone felt guilty. But did he feel pity? Did he feel like he had done something wrong? No! He didn't care for the man at all in fact. And he certainly cared even less now for societal morality. It was his unworthiness that plagued him.
So he stared at the body on the ground only about three feet away from Doc trying to come up within himself with some sort of justification. Minutes passed and nothing came to mind, so he got up from the chair and approached the dead mercenary while Doc and Miranda watched.
Doc entertained the idea of attacking Tyrone at this moment, but something about Tyrone's movements and posture felt defensive, and instructively, he knew that Tyrone would react first if he moved, and with the little he knew of this Taxi Driver, he knew he would attack kill or incapacitate. Insecure people make dangerous enemies.
Kneeling before the body, Tyrone tried for a long time to find words to say. Words befitting of a sending-off, words worthy of accompanying a life now changed to death. To change something sacred and breathing into nothing, literally.
"I'll be with you before long, until then, I'll live to make myself more worthy. Find peace, my friend," he muttered and slowly rose from his body.
"I assume you were prepared to clean Miranda's body after killing her? I need cleaning myself" Tyrone said to Doc, his eyes now tranquil after he performed what he considered a ritual.
"The shop had a bathroom" Doc quickly replied.
Tyrone was surprised for a moment and his forehead scrunched upwards. Saleria was not known for its hygiene practices; why did this shop have a bathroom in it?
"It was our shop. They must have sent everyone away and cleaned it after ...you know," Miranda quickly explained.
Tyrone was surprised for a minute but suddenly let out a chuckle that almost spiraled into full-blown laughter. He found it amusing that they had somehow ended up back where everything started for Miranda. Doc and his now-dead colleague had probably been expecting her to come back to the shop at some time; it must have surprised them to see her walking past, so they just pulled her into the shop. Maybe if they had been a little more prepared or, if Miranda had walked into the shop and they didn't have to compromise... just maybe the one dead on the ground would be him.
He quickly used the bathroom while Miranda sat in the chair Tyrone just vacated, her gun aimed at Doc who was no longer bleeding but was starting to feel weak.
"Do you know the monster you are working with?" Doc started to ask. Miranda might be a good judge of people but as a mercenary with many years of experience, he was a good judge of beasts.
Tilting her head to the side, Miranda stared coldly at Doc without saying anything. She wanted to kill him but she could tell that Tyrone had a great deal of respect for life. For some reason, she didn't want to put a rift between them. If only he knew what she knew.
"You might take my words for granted, I understand. You've seen the chaotic world, you've participated in the chaos and now you're here seeking a way out. But that taxi driver? He is not your friend" Doc continued. He doubted Miranda was listening to him, but he kept talking anyway. Perhaps he felt he was going to die if they didn't leave soon and allowed him to get help, maybe it was the need to express his grievances before he died. Or to sow discord and have his last revenge.
Slowly, he slumped to the floor, leaving a trail of blood on the wall behind him where he had been resting. The wound wasn't through but his bloody hand had been held against the wall supporting him. But he had no more strength to stand or hold on to the wall. One could barely make out his palm prints at the start of the blood trail.
"You have killed many before, but the Driver is not a killer. You know that, and so you think he's safe, maybe better than you and me. Pure?" Doc raised his head to look dead into Miranda's eyes.
His voice turned cold and devoid of emotional fluctuations as he continued, "But that there is a survivor with innate instinct at what must be done to hold advantage at every moment. The reason you are still here is not because he needs to clean some blood off himself but because he needs me as weak as possible so you have more time when you leave."
"A man like that will at some point see you as no longer necessary and a survivor needs no other reason to get rid of a person"
When he finished, he kept his eyes fixed on Miranda's but she simply shook her head without saying anything. She didn't know Tyrone very well as a person, and she had firsthand seen how his survival instincts kept them one step ahead of these two mercenaries. But she knew he would never kill her unless she turned on him, and even then, he still wouldn't. Why was she so confident? Because she knew someone else who was as much a paradox as Tyrone. Although they both seemed to hold different beliefs, logical people were easy to understand.
The fundamental difference between Tyrone's logic and others, who seemed almost mechanical, was the inclusion of sentiment. Evident from how Doc was still alive even though the logical action would be to kill him.
As Tyrone walked out of the bathroom back into the main area, he noticed someone walking towards the shop and he froze for some reason. Miranda immediately took note and turned to the door as the person entered.
"It's okay, she's a friend," She quickly said to Tyrone, but he seemed lost in his own world as he stared at the newcomer.
"What are you?" he muttered in askance.
The newcomer, Tiana, took in the sights. The body on the ground and Doc who had gone unconscious at some point.
"He's still alive," Tiana noted, turning to Miranda.
"I'm so glad you're okay?" she smiled.
"All thanks to him." Miranda jerked her head towards Tyrone, who was standing in a wet shirt in front of the bathroom door. He walked forward, his eyes cold and fixed on Tiana.
"Hey, thanks for helping my friend." Tiana smiled at him, but he didn't respond.
"What is going on?" he asked frowning deeply.
Without waiting for a reply, he closed his eyes and took a long deep breath.
"I need to go home," he said to Miranda. It was starting to get late, he noted, but that wasn't the reason he needed to leave.
"What? You're leaving?" Miranda asked in shock, she didn't see this coming. But then again, why would he stick around after the mercenaries were no longer a problem? He had a life and who was she to take him away from it? No one but a stranger he met a few hours ago.
"Wait, what's wrong?" Tiana asked noticing something else.
There was urgency and panic in Tyrone's eyes. If he had helped Miranda this far, it would be rude and ungrateful to let him leave like that.
"I have a problem, and I'd rather deal with it at home where I'm safe," Tyrone tried to explain.
"What's wrong Tyrone? Are you okay?" Miranda was starting to pick up that something wasn't right.
Without another word, Tyrone started for the door, his panic growing by the minute.
"If it's about me, your senses are absolutely right. You're not crazy," Tiana suddenly called out, and Tyrone froze. Slowly turning around, he faced her again but this time with more curiosity.
"How can you tell what I'm sensing?" he asked.
Tiana revealed a gentle smile and shook her head at how silly he seemed.
"I've experienced what you're going through myself" she explained.
"So...you mean, you're not alive?" Tyrone asked to be sure he wasn't reading things wrong.