His pulse doubling just as the pace of his thoughts were, Adrian's body strived to keep up with the exaggerated beat. The bottoms of his feet furiously pounded flat on the cold, litter strewn sidewalk and he could feel fresh blood leak from his bandaged toe. Beads of sweat poured out of his body, tiny rivulets falling behind him in silent patters down below and making his clothes stick to his skin as he hustled himself and the dying bundle of rough, matted fur back home. In a dry, matter-of-fact way Adrian considered it luck that he had already heaved out all of his stomach's contents. Threatening to overwhelm him again, he was trying his best to ignore the dizziness and nausea. Panic still engulfed his conscious mind, and it was driving it to a feral state; all thoughts but simple thoughts were being replaced, repressed or blocked. Under its grizzly, cold encasing Adrian's heart was soft. Not just for animals but for other people too.
Determination, strength and experience all met and resided in his heart, alongside a tenderness that was almost rugged and delicate. The condition of a human who has experienced ultimate highs and terrible lows. If Adrian ever before entertained the thought that his sense of emotions was growing dull, he no longer would again. He had anticipated the need for defense against another human with ill intent, and was mentally prepared for it. But this.. a frigging dog? This was savage. Barbaric. A pang of emotional pain tremored through his heart, and he involuntarily sucked in air more then he anticipated, resulting in a short choking cough and wheeze. Not always one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, Adrian was having a hard time figuring out what exactly he should be thinking, aside from rudimentary thoughts such as "get home" or "scan the area".
It was during a simple scan that Adrian's ribcage and bicep took a brunt shot from an outstretched wing mirror of a car, cooly disguised against its midnight-black body. On a vehicle, side mirrors are normally manufactured in one of two ways, Adrian knew from a lecture in his past. Although both are made in a similar, hardened plastic. Firstly, and in the recent years more commonly found in America and even more so in Europe, are the sort that retract. To prevent them from being clipped, they tuck in on to the side of the car either manually or electronically. The car that Adrian used to drive had them, and he remembered the salesman with his warts and greased-back hair harboring about the differences. The greased-up wart went on to mention that there are also the kind that are stationary, jutting out like antlers. Often referred to as the older style, this was the sort that Adrian ran into. The hardened plastic material snapped loudly but not completely, now jutting at a more awkward angle.
"Oouoof," the noise escaped his lungs as his body spiraled backward in a short, slow fall. Kevin remained silent in his unconscious state as momentum brought him upwards of Adrian's chest. Legs buckling and beginning to become tangled, he made a last ditch effort to protect the dog, but to his dismay Kevin’s fur slipped just out of the grasp of his fingertips, falling two feet to the ground, his broken body then rolling a short distance. Fresh blood dripped slowly from the wound Adrian had caused. Quickly realizing his own position, Adrian tilted his head forward at the last second to avoid the back of it smacking on hard cement, although the consequence was that his spine took the full force of the impact. A feeling akin to the effect of shattering glass spread throughout his own torso, and his lungs filled with spiderwebs as all wind withdrew and returned back into the world. Rainbow colored specks of dust floated across his vision while pain and panic wracked his body. Adrian required a moment, and though he didn't know if he had any to spare, one was taken. A wheezy cough navigated its way through his throat, rattling his lungs and sending a new surge through his ramshackled ribcage. Wincing, he draped his right forearm across his chest, planting his left palm downward on the sidewalk beside him. Knowing he wasn't seriously hurt was as far as the good news stretched. Just the body parts affected by the initial impact of colliding with the mirror would need a closer inspection, his upper few ribs and right shoulder. The pain along his lower mid-back was fading, maybe to return as a dull bruise. Assuming for now that his torso was just battered and bruised, Adrian used his left arm as a prop to help his body up. Quickly he noticed the motionless lifeform that was Kevin, and he was surprised that with the vigor that his own pulse was pounding with it didn't break his fragile self. He was unmoving as he stared..
For many months after the explosions that would define a new way of living for those left in America and those who chose to stay, scores of clouds of dust, smoke and eradicated debris filled the air. If prompted to, Adrian could remember in the very beginning when the smog had wafted out as far as the west coast. In a fading life he once heard about the Great Canadian North, where in some places they experience something called a "polar night", darkness that can last longer than a day and often many more. Adrian thought those first few months of smog were like that, although sometimes he could recognize the white orb of the sun if he looked up at the ghastly grey-and-green smog, though its rays wouldn't touch the ground for another couple of days to come. There was a period of time that some form of ventilation was necessary to be outside, the air too polluted to breathe deeply. All he had at first was a balled up t-shirt to hold against his mouth, it worked poorly. It was only a week before he was coughing blood, but tha passed thankfully, after he looted a couple of dust mask from a construction lot that would go uncompleted.
Though tonight the world around him was no more than colored blurs passing by, the atmosphere provided for the two creatures was quite unordinarily cheerful. On this late October eve... a shade of clear navy swathed the sky with brilliant radiance, as notably beautiful as the sparkling glitter of the stars that dotted nonsensical patterns. The trees, though bare and dead, stood with a solemn diligence and nobility that Adrian could reconcile with. A breeze casually blew by, awkwardly out of place. On either side of the street that Adrian and Kevin were occupying, walls of well-built homes were spaced perfectly as far as he could see in both directions. Differing only in height and coats of paint, all of these houses looked like clones of one another. An eye sore to behold, really, but one that brought the comfort of monotony. Bringing himself to his knees, another droplet of sweat missiled toward and crashed upon the old, chipped concrete sidewalk. It, like most of the pavement stretching around Adrian, had seen better days. His breath escaped him in light wheezes as he regained his composure, stealing merely a half of a dozen seconds more. As if with the flick of a switch to turn the lights on, Adrian snapped to. Bent over in a hunch that was more suited for crawling than running, he made his way to Kevin. The color burgundy had already crustily meshed in with the white and brindle fur, but a wet coat had been applied in some areas and several drops had collected below. The animals large chest heaved deeply as Adrian lifted it up to torso height.
"........rrrrewlp," Kevin let out an unconscious guttural growl, escaping from deep within somewhere. Adrian just hoped it was a good sign as he placed the dog's wound on his right shoulder, resting its bum in the nook of his left arm. The gash caused by Adrian's cane had been deep, he noticed. Just how deep he didn't know, but it was obvious that the skull was not broken. There wasn't time to examine it out in the open, and there was merely two blocks left until he was home. Slowly, Adrian picked up momentum, turning a brief walk into a quick-paced jog.
Kevin was heavy. Being the largest bull terrier that Adrian had ever seen, he guessed the animal easily weighed eighty pounds. Adrian carried it with a well built, hardened body that came with the autumns of his youth being spent chopping wood for his grandfather. His grandfather, a quiet yet bitter man, paid Adrian twenty dollars every year to come visit a handful of times and split logs for his wood-stove he used during the freezing eastern coast winters. Growing up, it was a chore that he lamented. He could never seem to gain the satisfaction of the coot that, as his grandchild, he felt he deserved. Adrian realized eventually that they never had much of a relationship to gain that from. As age came down on Adrian, he grew to regret not spending time with more of his extended family. He was sure he would of loved and learned from them.
Shrugging off another elapsed memory and looking for mental markers he made, Adrian brought his light jog to a speed that suited the situation a bit more, shuffling the dog around in his arms. Carrying Kevin this distance was something he could do. The bauble of his cane briefly touched the back of his leg, a shiver went down his spine. What would anyone else have done in that situation? As terrible of an act as it was... could it of been a necessary evil? He swept such thoughts away, not allowing himself his own forgiveness.
While glancing down to check on Kevin's status, Adrian barely noticed with his peripheral vision a fresh and deep groove cut into a telephone pole. The slit was wide and jagged enough to be from an axes blade. Failing to consider it in his mad dash for home, Adrian shifted the weight in his arms again as Kevin's head lolled limply over his right forearm, bobbing about to the rhythm of his rescuer/murderer's movements. The pattern that the dog's head swayed in reminded Adrian oh-so painfully of a memory from nearly a decade ago, one that he had thought he repressed. Perhaps it was unbottling as a way to subconsciously distract him from the grim horror he held in his arms:
---
Three years ago, age thirty and a man lacking the hardened aura he now possesses, Adrian drove delicately through the wooded back road at two a.m. that Saturday night in West Virginia. With experienced ease he rounded the corners of the winding pavement comfortably and without jostling the vehicle about. These roads were familiar, he could follow these lines as naturally as he could trace the ones on the palm of his hand. In mid-February of this year all of the trees were bare of leaves, but there wasn't any snow on the straw-like grass just yet. They had gone all through Christmas and January without snow, leaving the landscape dry, cold and dead for as far into the dark as he could see.
Not that he was expertly surveying the area about him right now, only making occasional checks for wildlife that may come barreling through the dense brush that covered each side of the deteriorating pavement road. Adrian's mind was lost in a daydream with intensity that wasn't apparent on his sunken face. Instead, a blank countenance matched the stare of the horizon looking back into him. Cold, stormy ocean-blue eyes that pierced through many good illusions and liars blinked slowly, his pale lips in a stern, straight and pursed line. Piecing it together again, hoping that the realization will sink further into his skin with repetition, Adrian ran through the events that had transpired within just the last three hours between himself and Alyssa, his girlfriend.
---
"Adriiian... you praww-missed!" Alyssa pronounced with the hint of a lazy stupor encroached in her voice, one garnered from alcohol consumption and the feeling of grogginess from sleep. She was attempting to have a calm discussion that was referring back to an earlier, more sober conversation. Her thin and straightened beach blonde hair fell gracefully to her shoulders, where she now absently brushed it behind her shoulder in an angry huff. The arc of her eyebrows showed a willingness that begged for an open discussion, but her eyes revealed to Adrian something he saw in the heat of all of these arguments they had. It was apparent that he was fighting a battle with her once again, and he let a sigh escape his nostrils.
"I said if you woke up before the liquor store closed we would go. It's almost ten to eleven o'clock. The store closed an hour ago, Alyssa." He retorted in a definitive manner, though how fruitless the explanation was reverberated in his voice. Sporting a beard that he briefly rubbed, Adrian tried to convey to his girlfriend that the plans she had made would have to change. To some degree, he understood why someone would want to drink on their own birthday especially, even if they drank most nights anyway.
"...what about... the... store... the store on Barrington street?" Alyssa asked, although her confidence had started to drain as she spoke. In all of the excitement of today she had perhaps drank too much. Her decision to take a quick nap around eight turned into a three hour snooze, one that Adrian couldn't wake her from.
"Closed." he said almost within the same breath of her last word, almost willing this conversation to its end. He could see the frustration brewing darkly upon her beautifully almond shaped face, the small curves of her mouth pointing downward in dramatically sharp lines.
"...promised...my birthday..." Alyssa was barely speaking loud enough to carry past her lips, and Adrian asked her to repeat herself.
"You promised you wouldn't be mad that I was going to drink on my birthday..." she sulked at him, finally lulling her chin upward to meet his searching and troubled gaze. One of the moments they shared lasted longer than the others. A feeling not unlike the snap of a kite's string was shared, and distance growing between them was implicitly recognized.
"Babe, I know I did. I'm not mad at you, OK?"
Adrian and Alyssa had been dating for eight months. She, a socially comfortable, open minded and flavorful woman was boastfully secure with who she was. Unfortunately, she couldn't see like those around her could that part of who she was... was an alcoholic. Unfamiliar at this point in his life with vices and demons, Adrian didn't recognize it until well into their relationship. Until recently the drinking had been limited to only a few occasions. Parties mostly. Those times, the amount she would drink concerned him. She brushed it off, telling him that he's worrying too much or that with his inexperience with liquor, he couldn't possibly know how much she could handle. He thought that she admired his refusal to drink and that that was why she herself had slowed down, but the past month has been nearly free of any day spent completely clear headed, minus the five days before her birthday. “Detoxing”, she called it.
Recently there had been lying. About when, how much and who with she would drink. Also about the true amount this habit bothered Adrian. A crack in what he thought was concrete began to form. They spent less time together, but somehow Adrian still didn't see the slippery slope they were fighting on. The discussions turned into fighting which turned into screaming, and their formerly star crossed path that they walked on along side of each other had met a fork, and the separation began to pass at a glacier speed. Alyssa was aware, at least more so than Adrian, but she was too afraid to move on.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
"Then STOP!" she screamed unexpectedly. The hairs on his neck stood up on their ends as rage spiked through him, the outburst catching him off guard. Thoughts turning into flurries, he hid the true emotion he was feeling from his voice.
"...Alyssa. I'm not mad at you, OK?"
---
Alyssa closed her eyes. She could sense Adrian's anger, she knew it. Even though she was drunk on the expensive Russian vodka she had bought for herself, she knew Adrian better than he knew himself. Adrian thought he was an adaptable person, someone who could flow with the direction of the water and handle all problems. He wasn't, and never could be in her mind. Perceptive and cunning were two words more suited for Adrian than adaptable. The two of them had been fighting. A lot. He couldn't change or understand her point of view, going as far as to let slip that he thought she was becoming an alcoholic! Mentally she scoffed at the idea again. If she was a common drunk, then how could she function so well in society or work the stressful 9-5 life of a secretary, drunk or sober? No.... just because she worked while intoxicated sometimes, that didn't make her addicted to liquor.
Adrian couldn't understand this because he had never tried liquor in his life. Even though she accepted that at first, she found it hard to cope with and unlike herself to limit her fun. It's grown harder to be with him because of it, she feels it separating them... but she doesn't think he sees it. They've almost completely stopped communicating while not being in the same room with each other, and it's much harder to meet each other's stare. Adrian hasn't mentioned a word about either of these problems, obviously oblivious to them. Somehow for the first time in her life she had the problem of carrying the emotional weight. Living carelessly but with structure was losing its vibrant sheen and appeal. The need to be responsible was a strange acquaintance in her abode that lingered.
Running a single finger along a crease line in her old black leather couch, and she let a sigh escape her as well. Thinking beyond being with Adrian was scary, even though their relationship was only two thirds of a year old. There was something they had that wasn't easy to put into words, but it was something she had never found in any other guy. A mixture of well-balanced personality, problems and ethic, maybe. A friend of Alyssa's had recently told her "it was time to flip the page of this book" but Alyssa couldn't follow those sentiments. Adrian wasn't something she wanted to advance from yet, a kernel in her heart that she couldn't let pop.
---
"Alyssa? Alyssa? Open your eyes and talk to me. We need to work this out, OK? Why can't we just handle this maturely?" Adrian said, cupping her small, soft hands with nails painted blue in his own. Alyssa's eyes opened forcefully and there was a twinge in her lips.
"I am, I am, I aammm." she explained. The gesture had clearly nestled its way passed her stubborn preface and made a connection. Adrian saw the woman he met those many months ago revealed to him now in her eyes. Desire and curiosity lingered there desperately, but a fire had returned that had been gone. He hadn't noticed its disappearance until its return, but the sight of it again brought a great big grin to his face. Alyssa noticed, but was only able to cheaply imitate the smile back.
"It's just... it's just my birthday, Adrian." she said, the latter half of her statement gaining confidence word by word. Something behind those emerald-green eyes shifted silently as she blinked, but Adrian didn't catch it.
"What happened to the quart you bought this morning? The vodka?" Adrian asked not accusingly, but some thought that lingered in the background of his mind knew the answer as well as Alyssa did. He wanted to hear what she would say more than he wanted to know the truth, nonchalantly searching for her Integrity. Rubbing the back of her hand with the front of his, he looked up and saw she had her eyes closed again, and looked unfocused. Mouth unlatching, he started to form a new tirade until he felt something quivering in his palms. The words and the bubbling frustration blew away, gone instantly as if grabbed by a windy storm. He didn't need to hold her nerve-wracked hand to know what Alyssa was feeling, and she didn't need it held to know that Adrian now, too, was beginning to see how spotty their romance had become. Slowly and with remembered passion, he slid a single hand up to cup a cheek. Her eyes slowly opened part-way, a tear escaping speedily as he began to speak.
"What can we do to make tonight better, darling?" he asked empathetically. If there was a time to discuss this confliction at all, it wasn't this moment. It might of been too late to salvage the night but he wouldn't cause anymore distress with another fight. She met his gaze again and offered a dry but appreciative smile before replying.
"Thank you for trying, Adrian... I think I do know of a way I can still get us alcohol." Adrian noted the way she used the word "us", and didn't like where the idea was going.
"How is that?"
"A bootlegger." she said almost absentmindedly, her minor tremors becoming weaker. Adrian's lips began to move awkwardly, but before he could articulate any of his thoughts, she interjected.
"I know you won't like the idea.. but this would not be something we did all of the time, ok? Just this once, and I'm not even sure if he'll be able to help us." she explained, though by how deeply Adrian's brow was furrowed it was clear that her words of comfort slipped right past him. Beginning to say his piece, he found himself just as quickly closing his lips as Alyssa chimed in again.
"But if he does, then the rest of tonight will be just me and you, and no more problems. And even if he can't then we'll be ok. It's just.. it's just worth trying, right?" she said, a childlike muse lying behind her slight smile.
Adrian recognized that he was living in a critical scenario right now, where his next words and actions mattered and would affect the wellbeing of their relationship greatly. She was right, he didn't like the idea that she was proposing. At all. Not only was it illegal, but he knew the guy she was referencing. Emile Stoddard. An older friend of her ex, or something like that. He had been in and out of jail (for motor vehicle theft, Adrian had heard) two or three times during his forty-and-quite-a-few years of life and apparently wanted to live the more laid back lifestyle of a bootlegger now. Not only this, but he was twenty miles out into the boonies. Alyssa stroked a strand of her hair as she watched Adrian think, and those seconds stretched very long.
"...well, what's the worst thing that could happen? Although, I would suspect he'd be asleep at this hour." he replied, hoping he was doing the right thing. Alyssa tried not to show how relieved and happy she was.
---
The front door clicked noiselessly amid the wind’s whistles. Letting go of the doorknob, Adrian turned to face the wearisome looking night. It was a measly 43°F, and he could feel his will to continue this errand drain as promptly as he could feel the warmth leaving his body, but he zipped up the blue parka that was padded extra thick even further. Alyssa, equally as bundled up as himself, was halfway to the car when he descended the steps. As she rounded the back of its burgundy colored body, she looked anxiously at her boyfriend, who caught the glance. Did she sense that he had emotionally withdrawn from doing this? That look, the one that she was trying to hide and play off now, was revealing something. She patiently waited at the passenger side door as Adrian arrived, smiled warmly at her and fidgeted to get the car keys out from his pocket. The spot where Adrian parked his car at Alyssa's house was slightly blocked off from the weather, thanks to a worn-out barn that didn't look safe to enter. He opened his door, sat down and reached over to unlock the side door as well. Adrian heard his girlfriend enter and sit down as he put on his seatbelt and nervously gulped, silently praying that it wasn't audible.
"Looks like snow." Adrian mentioned, looking at the dashboard more so than out of the windshield. Alyssa slowed down dramatically in how she fastened her own seatbelt, going from enthusiastic to physically stunned by the words. The gentle clasp of the buckle almost signified the tension between the two.
"You don't want to do this, do you?" she said flatly in a "I knew it all along" tone.
"I didn't say that. I said it looks like snow." he replied and they both felt how cold it was inside and out of the car.
"Ok." was her faint reply, and with that Adrian planted the keys into the ignition. He sighed and let his hand fall to his lap.
"I'm sorry. You know this isn't my idea of a typical night, but I want to do this for you. It's your birthday, and I want to do this, ok?" he said while looking directly at her, and her staring straight ahead. Her eyes were wide open, and as he finished she blinked slowly and turned to him with her mouth open slightly, dazed.
"Adrian... are you sure?"
"Yes babe, I'm sure" he replied, as his thumb and index finger gripped the key and started the engine of the vehicle. With the roar of life vibrating throughout, Adrian felt a wash of defeat comb his body. He had thought the question "why?" so many times, it now invoked an emotional response. The lonely delirium underlying his collected and calm mask festered as Adrian shoved the car's gears into reverse and cut a rather wide right turn so that he was now facing the main road. A prickling sensation itched on his right side, and he glanced over to see Alyssa's eyes boring into him. She made no attempt to hide how she was studying him, staring with intentness you could only find in deep drunken thoughts. It wasn't disrespectful, but there was nothing warm in this hardened gaze.
"I'm sure." he repeated and then watched her withdraw, like a turtle into her shell. She hunkered down, legs curled up onto the seat while her head laid on the armrest of the opposite side, her warm and gentle breathing covered by the various noises of the car; the heat beginning to kick in, the radio that was not currently picking up a signal, and the engine currently idling.
As soon as Adrian shifted the gear from reverse to drive, he knew Alyssa was already asleep. The slight movement of the car, moreso as he applied gas, jostled her head loosely where it lay. He gently continued on, the gravel beneath the tires continuing to rattle both car and people alike. Alyssa didn't wake; not a noise was made, although that was no alarm because he knew her to be silent in her sleep. Adrian made a smooth left turn as he approached the main road, feeling the transition under his feet. He hated gravel, thinking it noisy and slow. Now that his journey had begun, he silently wished Alyssa was awake. Not being an outstanding extrovert but not enjoying the audible silence, he fruitlessly tuned the radio. It was a twenty mile drive to Emile's, and if he continued this sixty-five mph pace he would be there in about half an hour. A more enjoyable trip with a conscious travel buddy, but he respectfully let her sleep. This was her birthday and she could spend it how she wanted to.
Growing with frustration he gave up on the radio, and instead trained his eyes out of the windshield. This proved almost as fruitless, as thick West Virginia fog pervaded everywhere he drove. He could only faintly discern objects before he drove by them, his visibility down to a margin. Decrepit looking and lightless wooden telephone poles skimmed by on either side, this stretch of backroad containing little else beside trees, grass and gravel.
Despite his bitterness at having to chauffeur his girlfriend in silence, he was relieved to have a moment to reflect and gather his bearings. Adrian easily shrugged off the annoyance of Alyssa's outbursts and attitude, the worry that her alcohol infatuation caused him, and his desires to turn the car around and drive them both straight home. It was easy to do because there were so many traits of hers to admire, outshining these trialling times. Relationships, Adrian believed, required sacrifice. He was nearly compelled to make this one, however.
A rogue rock or maybe a discarded soda can made a thud and the car lurched up and down slightly because of it. He double checked; Alyssa hadn't even budged. A sigh unconsciously escaped him, he only half-heartedly stifled it. Droplets of mist created tiny clusters on his windshield. Bringing his left arm up to rest on the car's windowsill, hand now cupping the side of his face, he turned a gradual and wide corner with the other. Sooner or later he'd pass by a dilapidated gas station, and as he had this thought he subconsciously checked the gas gauge. It was full, resting on the full-tank symbol illuminated red by the dashboard light. It was always full, it was his habit to keep it topped up. Alyssa would interject at every pitstop, not being the sort to stop and smell the roses.
"Adrian," she would start, "did you really just stop this car for seven dollars worth of gas?"
"Yes," he would say. "It pays to be prepared."
"Prepared for what?"
"Well..." he thought about it for a second or two. "The worst, I suppose."
"Well that's dramatic, in my opinion."
The conversations would always travel that path or a similar one. It depended on the day or the mood, but things mostly stayed civil. The corner he had been turning on finally straightened out, as did his arm to it's "1 o'clock" position on the steering wheel. It was another long stretch ahead of him, but he squinted as he saw something was awry. The gas station, which should be visibly up ahead half a mile or so, which you could discern in the fog from the high vertical canopy lights that emitted onto the road, wasn't lit up. This fog is thick he thought to himself, but as he got closer and closer still he saw nothing. Finally, as he approached the area he thought the gas station should be at, he saw a silhouette. It was one he didn't recognize, it was that of an unlit streetlight. Then he noticed the sidewalk, the crosswalk paint and the unblinking traffic light. A man in a jogging outfit was crossing the street. It was only at that moment Adrian realized he'd been daydreaming for sometime, and this was the present-time necessarily interjecting.
---
Adrian almost dropped Kevin as he tripped over his feet, confusion seizing his limbs. He truly was seeing this man run across a crosswalk in jogging gear, at an intersection not a fifth of a block away from the Croteau's. At what he guessed to be 10 o'clock at night. The man was only a quarter way through the crosswalk as Adrian slipped behind a streetlight. He listened. He heard nothing. Not the exclamation he expected nor the continuation of the joggers feet pounding the asphalt, leading away, that he hoped for. He looked down at Kevin. What is going on?
He peeked over the side of the streetlight. Nothing, he saw no one. Exasperation took ahold of his senses as he clumsily thwarted out into the open. Adrian clutched Kevin tightly and rotated a full circle before running the short remaining distance to the intersection. He saw no one, in any direction. If he hadn't succumbed to his knees involuntarily he might of fainted from the effort it costed to remain standing. He sobbed silently, eyes wide open. Still trying to be aware, but so grief stricken that he gaped at the sky. Am I losing my fucking mind? I've gone crazy, it has happened. The world has beaten me. He lowered Kevin, softly setting him on the ground. The dog continued shallowly breathing. Adrian shut his eyes and strained back tears tightly, lowering his head between his knees. He didn't care anymore, how exposed he was or what dangers were around him. He didn't think he would even care if the jogging man came back. The world had beaten Adrian Shepherd.