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Description
The walk upstairs was slightly tense as Fay was smarting from Caleb's mild rebuke.  The scene from yesterday was repeated even to the excruciating exactness in the search for danger.  Faye considered pointing out that the hitman had probably left or was at least lying low, but kept silent.  It wouldn't change anything.
I'm so tired, she thought.  Just...so tired of this small town, with being on the run, with people trying to kill me and other people trying to protect me.  Was what I saw really that important?
Did witnessing a person's death really matter that much?
If her life meant nothing more than that, would her death matter any more or less?
"Faye!"
She turned.  "Yes?"
"Pay attention."  Finn stood before her like an elephant in an Amish barn.  "You can't be staring off and not know what's going on around you."
She snorted genteely.  "If I can't do it here with you two, then where?  It's the safest place of any."
"Don't start any bad habits," said Caleb.
Don't, don't, don't.  It was like listening to her father right before she went on her first teenage date.
A ringtone blasted through the small room.  Caleb barely looked sheepish as he answered.  "What?  Fine.  At the apartments.  Keys're in front."  He stuffed the phone in his front pocket.  "Sean's gonna borrow the truck.  Gonna haul lumber for the Fredrickson's."
Finn stared at his brother.  "You're letting him drive?  Alone?"
"He's a good kid.  Knows to be careful.  Faye, I'm hungry.  Feed me."
'Feed' was linked with 'food' and 'food' was a Good Word according to the dogs.  Stupid, the lab, jumped and sat on Caleb's feet, thumping his tail.  Fergus went for a more Impressive Dignity approach: he squeezed in front of Finn and Faye, sat before them, and looked pleadingly up at them.
Faye looked pleadingly at Finn.
"There's a bag of dog food in the truck," he said.  "I'll get it."  The dogs followed closely as he ambled to the parking lot.
"Hey Finn."
"Sean."
"Caleb said I could borrow the truck."  The boy's face was almost babyish.  Some 17-year olds just looked that way no matter what they did.  Sean seemed to favor spots of grease and dirt from the workshop.
"I ain't stopping you.  Just need the feed from outta the back."  Sean's face was transparent with relief.  He loved driving, and the brother's truck most of all.  His own family could barely afford a single vehicle for his dad to use for work.  It was almost as shabby as the brother's truck, but without the skillfully-maintained and beautiful engine.  The shabby exterior of the truck only made him love it more.  It was a wonderful example of a sleeper.
He caressed the hood while Finn unloaded the 50 lb bag of dog food.  He'd get a truck like this someday.  Everybody would laugh at him for it, like they laughed at him now for his family's poverty, but then he'd win.  His sleeper would shame their slick expensive cars, their cars they knew nothing about.
Finn caught the dreamy look on the boy's face.
"Hey Sean."
"Uh..yeah, Finn?"
"No hurries with the truck.  Go cruise a bit if you want.  Mind the tank."
"Sure, Finn!  Sure!"
"Come on, dogs."  They'd been sniffing under the truck.  Some idiot mutt had probably marked it while they'd been parked.  He called again and Stupid came bounding over.  Fergus stubbornly refused to come until he saw Finn striding back at him.  Then he loped over, looking reluctantly back.
"Come on, mutt.  Thought you were hungry."  Fergus slid inside the door as Sean finished situating himself in the truck.  The mirrors were all adjusted, the dashboard cleared of dust.  He waved at Finn's back, beaming, and turned the key.
He died instantly as the bombs under the hood and seat ignited.

Description
The walk upstairs was slightly tense as Fay was smarting from Caleb's mild rebuke.  The scene from yesterday was repeated even to the excruciating exactness in the search for danger.  Faye considered pointing out that the hitman had probably left or was at least lying low, but kept silent.  It wouldn't change anything.
I'm so tired, she thought.  Just...so tired of this small town, with being on the run, with people trying to kill me and other people trying to protect me.  Was what I saw really that important?
Did witnessing a person's death really matter that much?
If her life meant nothing more than that, would her death matter any more or less?
"Faye!"
She turned.  "Yes?"
"Pay attention."  Finn stood before her like an elephant in an Amish barn.  "You can't be staring off and not know what's going on around you."
She snorted genteely.  "If I can't do it here with you two, then where?  It's the safest place of any."
"Don't start any bad habits," said Caleb.
Don't, don't, don't.  It was like listening to her father right before she went on her first teenage date.
A ringtone blasted through the small room.  Caleb barely looked sheepish as he answered.  "What?  Fine.  At the apartments.  Keys're in front."  He stuffed the phone in his front pocket.  "Sean's gonna borrow the truck.  Gonna haul lumber for the Fredrickson's."
Finn stared at his brother.  "You're letting him drive?  Alone?"
"He's a good kid.  Knows to be careful.  Faye, I'm hungry.  Feed me."
'Feed' was linked with 'food' and 'food' was a Good Word according to the dogs.  Stupid, the lab, jumped and sat on Caleb's feet, thumping his tail.  Fergus went for a more Impressive Dignity approach: he squeezed in front of Finn and Faye, sat before them, and looked pleadingly up at them.
Faye looked pleadingly at Finn.
"There's a bag of dog food in the truck," he said.  "I'll get it."  The dogs followed closely as he ambled to the parking lot.
"Hey Finn."
"Sean."
"Caleb said I could borrow the truck."  The boy's face was almost babyish.  Some 17-year olds just looked that way no matter what they did.  Sean seemed to favor spots of grease and dirt from the workshop.
"I ain't stopping you.  Just need the feed from outta the back."  Sean's face was transparent with relief.  He loved driving, and the brother's truck most of all.  His own family could barely afford a single vehicle for his dad to use for work.  It was almost as shabby as the brother's truck, but without the skillfully-maintained and beautiful engine.  The shabby exterior of the truck only made him love it more.  It was a wonderful example of a sleeper.
He caressed the hood while Finn unloaded the 50 lb bag of dog food.  He'd get a truck like this someday.  Everybody would laugh at him for it, like they laughed at him now for his family's poverty, but then he'd win.  His sleeper would shame their slick expensive cars, their cars they knew nothing about.
Finn caught the dreamy look on the boy's face.
"Hey Sean."
"Uh..yeah, Finn?"
"No hurries with the truck.  Go cruise a bit if you want.  Mind the tank."
"Sure, Finn!  Sure!"
"Come on, dogs."  They'd been sniffing under the truck.  Some idiot mutt had probably marked it while they'd been parked.  He called again and Stupid came bounding over.  Fergus stubbornly refused to come until he saw Finn striding back at him.  Then he loped over, looking reluctantly back.
"Come on, mutt.  Thought you were hungry."  Fergus slid inside the door as Sean finished situating himself in the truck.  The mirrors were all adjusted, the dashboard cleared of dust.  He waved at Finn's back, beaming, and turned the key.
He died instantly as the bombs under the hood and seat ignited.