I lay there on the gravel for another good ten minutes, staring at the sky. My throat hurt, my wrists hurt and my back was scratched from the gravel. Even my pride suffered... I thought I could beat him. I was stupid and naive. One scratch, one stupid scratch that would probably heal in a few minutes, that was all I managed. Damn it, even swallowing hurt… I looked at my wrists. Bruises marred them all around. There were surely more on my throat. I got up with a pain-filled growl, which sent a sharp pain through my throat.

My phone started ringing. It was Simon. Damn it. Pick up or ignore? Talking would probably be pure agony, but if I didn't tell him something, he would probably start looking for me. Eventually, I turned it off and decided to text him. I'm sick, I won't come to work.

I walked back to the church. Along the way, I thought about Dale and his morning phone call... The person on the other side didn’t sound like he liked me very much. And really what did I know about Dale? I have known him for three days… I was so desperately lonely that I didn't care why he was here in the first place or where exactly he came from. Dale gave me hope that perhaps I wasn’t destined to be like Lazar. He just knew so much and seemed to understand me and… Damn it.

"Andrew!" I froze, looking up from the gravel. Simon ran up to me and lifted my chin so he could get a better look at the bruises. "What the hell happened to you?" There was a real fear in his eyes, a fear for me. Oh, Simon, after all that happened, still my best friend, whom I had to lie to once again.

"It's nothing." It hurt to talk. I sounded like a 90-year-old lifelong smoker with lung cancer. My body tried to make me cough, but I refused. A cough just meant more pain.

"Are you kidding me?" Simon's expression shattered almost in despair. My stomach tangled in a painful knot. "That's enough! What's really going on, Andrew? The woman finally spoke and said I should tell you to be at the church at eight, alone. I came as fast as I could and I find you almost strangled to death, and that's all you've got to say? ,It's nothing'?" There was anger in his voice and I could hear his heart pounding wildly. I opened my mouth to calm him down, but he shook his head and spoke first. "No! I don't want to hear any more excuses! For fuck sake Andrew! How long have we been friends? How long have we been partners? I deserve to know what's going on! You're not home at night, you gave up on work and you ignore everyone around. Except for the random guy who showed up at your house two days ago. I just want to help you, Andrew! Let me help you,” he begged, worry clouding his eyes. What was I supposed to do when he made such a face? I had to tell him something. At least a little bit… I hid my face in my hands and resisted the urge to scream and cry like a little kid who had just discovered how unjust life is.

"Okay, fine. Do you have a car here?" I asked in my hoarse voice. Simon blinked in surprise as if he didn't expect me to really tell him anything. Then he nodded and strode back to the church. I followed him and wondered how much I could tell him… Unfortunately, Simon's car was close so we got inside before I could think of what to say.

"Okay," I muttered to myself, rubbing my bruised wrist. "Simon, what I'm about to tell you… No one can know… One word, one slip up and it's over. Do you understand?” I looked at him with all seriousness and prayed he wouldn't start laughing. Simon stared at me blankly. He probably expected to read some amusement on my face. I was dead serious.

"So what you’re trying to say is that if anyone finds out I know what you’re about to tell me, they’ll kill me?” he repeated softly as if to make sure he had heard right. I nodded. "What is going on, Andrew?"

"I… I got involved with some bad people…” I said. Already I was lying. They weren’t people. "They're to blame for all the deaths that have taken place in the city."

"You mean, for the wolf attacks?" Simon frowned at me.

"They use dogs - so the police can’t catch them," I lied, hating it. This was the closest thing to reality I could tell him. "Really, really big dogs, like the white one who attacked us."

"So it's something like the mafia? With mutated dogs?” he repeated after me, shaking his head. He didn’t believe me.