Unfortunately, there were a few other students who came with sharp objects. Items even more dangerous than the knife the first girl had tucked in between her bra. A bald, nerdy-looking guy had packed a guild of arrows and bows as though he'd come to Omsk to hunt for animals. Another girl who looked too innocent had carried an Ak-47 gun.

Later that evening, when the sky had turned completely dark with the light from the moon giving the tall trees, gigantic shadows, Sean and Ebun began to make their way back to their tents. During their walk, they reminisced on the events of the day and how everything unfolded.

"It was foolish of me to have concluded that the tattooed girl was the one who witnessed the killing of Mr. Kojo," Ebun said with melancholy as she removed her face cap.

"It's okay for you to have thought that. You're an amateur after all," Sean replied, managing to make amateur sound like a compassionate word rather than a condescending one. "But the witness wouldn't have been that obvious. People with evil intentions come with a calm and almost friendly presence. They don't act difficult. They comply with whatever they are asked to do. That way, they seem less suspicious."

Ebun sighed. She was frustrated.

"The tattooed girl wasn't the only one with a weapon, although she was the only one who acted in a cowardly manner and made it too obvious that she came with contraband. The other students who carried weapons were quite calm — like the category of people with evil intentions that you just spoke about. How, then, would we be able to decipher who it is among these people?"

There was an eerie silence before Sean responded.

"You don't have to think in a linear pattern just because I said we should only be on the lookout for students with dangerous items!"

Ebun's lips formed into a thin line —a line full of tamed anger and unsaid words. She wished Sean would see how irritated she was. Damn the darkness of the night! The bloke was a darn psychopath and was so hard to please! He was the one who'd told her always to do as he said, to follow his instructions, and had warned her never to butt into his discussion with "baseless" arguments.

The last time she'd made suggestions, especially when they'd been analyzing Mrs. Yekaterina's case, he'd shut her out countless times. Now that she was for once, following in his lead, he was making her look like a dumbass.

Ebun had wanted to open her mouth to tell Sean how two-faced and hypocritical he was! She wanted to yell so loudly so everyone in the camp would wake up to the noise, but she kept quiet and bottled in all the insults she'd intended to lash out at him. For some reason, she felt that expressing herself would make her look like a stubborn subordinate.

Subordinates never talked back to their boss — no matter how difficult and authoritative the boss was. Also, Ebun didn't want Sean to think of her as a troublesome lady. So instead, with a sardonic tone, she said:

"Okay, sir. I'll take note of that next time. However, right now, I'm not in the best mood to think for myself. After all, I always failed my tests at school for a reason."

There was silence from Sean. An owl from a distance hooted. Crickets chirped. The silence was thick, almost choking — as though it bore a heavy weight — a weight that made the silence deafening and even louder than the night creatures. It was a silence that carried guilt.

Ebun couldn't see Sean's expression clearly because the light from the moon had suspended the better half of his body frame into a silhouette. But she could feel his guilt.

Sean apologized.

This apology was nothing like how he'd apologized back at the street in Moscow that led to Hostel Pavlov. He sounded like he was really sorry. Ebun hadn't told him that she was offended. She didn't cry like she did the last time. She'd even joked about it. But it seemed as though he'd realized it for himself, how rashly he'd just behaved towards her.

Sean was scared – scared that Ebun would leave once they were done cleaning up this mess. Perhaps that was why she hadn't argued with him. Because it was pointless to express her displeasure when she would be leaving him soon, maybe she was done having him talk down on her.

Ebun didn't verbally express her acceptance of his apology, but somehow, he knew she'd forgiven him. Because the silence between them didn't feel so weighty anymore, so he went on to continue talking about the witness.

"I wouldn't say that the students with the dangerous weapons had the coolness of someone with evil intentions," Sean answered Ebun's previous question. "Instead, they seemed rather genuine with their reasons. The girl who carried the Ak-47 said she brought it for self-defense since a boy in her class was blackmailing her.

The tattooed girl with the knife had the same reason. The guy who came with bows and arrows clearly thought he was coming on some animal excursion which is fairly believable since no one told the students the kind of excursion they were coming for."

"When I analyzed all that happened today, a new thought came to my mind: the witness of Mr. Kojo's killing is probably not even skilled in the use of weapons. Then I thought again. If the person doesn't know how to use weapons, how does the person plan on bringing us down? How can they ruin us? Then the answer came to me: The pen. The pen is ten times mightier than the sword. Word, whether written or spoken, spreads even faster than poison to the heart."

Ebun's eyes shone brightly with amusement. She'd begun to wish she'd just used her brain like Sean instructed because his theory wasn't far-fetched. It was something she could have easily thought of if she was interested in exercising her brain muscles. When it came to catching your enemies, you really couldn't afford to reason in a linear pattern.

"You mean..."

"Yes. Exactly what you are thinking about is what I mean!"

"So...what do we do to prevent that from happening? Should we get the school authorities to bribe the police? If the unimaginable happens, you and I would not only be in trouble. The school authority officials in association with the psycho barracks would go down as well!"

"The witness knows nothing about the school's deal with the psycho barracks. All the person saw was us murdering an "innocent" man. Your reasoning is clever yeah, but it's very false," Sean said the last sentence in a condescending tone in his voice. "I plan on dealing with the person in a normal way. Before word gets out, we will have to stifle the life out of the person and get rid of them the way we get rid of rapists."

"Oh, that's reasonable."

"But I'll get in touch with the school authorities just in case," Sean added so Ebun could be pleased.

Her submissiveness scared him. He preferred the complex and contentious Ebun. He was used to the Ebun that would never let him trash-talk her. Then he realized that he too, wasn't being very nice. Why did she have to disallow him from trying to talk down on her when he could simply chose not to even attempt such a thing?

"Goodnight," Ebun said, exhilarated.

Conversing with Sean was always exhausting. Yes, he was more intelligent than her, and she always realized it even after creating a fuss. But still, he didn't always have to talk down on her. Minutes ago, he called her an amateur. Now he was calling her a sophist.

That night as Ebun lay in her bed, waiting for sleep to consume her, she contemplated deeply on why she so desperately wanted to be loved by Sean. What Sean had said to her was unacceptable, yet she'd let it slide because she didn't want him to think of her as a troublesome lady. That was very unlike her. Since when did she want validation from a man?

A man. The cursed gender that ruined her life.

There was no way she'd sought to be loved by a gender she loathed till eternity. A gender in which her enmity for would never cease. Why did she love Sean?

The answer came to her. It was because Sean, regardless of his gender, was the only person who'd been in support of her vision for vengeance. Hence she'd impulsively adored and felt a sense of gratitude to him. Still, did she have to stoop this low? Especially for a misogynist like him? Wasn't she going way below her standards?

Sean didn't like women. The fact that he supported her dreams for vengeance wasn't enough reason for her to love him this much. He could, one day, choose to do whatever he did to the women he hated to her. She had to create a line, no matter how thin.

Yes, She and Sean were partners in this murder thing which meant that she couldn't be apart from him. Still, she had to see him ONLY as a partner.

Yes, yes, I must create that line. Ebun thought. My heart can't be racing every bloody time I see him.

Ebun heard a distinct sound. The sound distracted her from her chain of thoughts. She opened her eyes and rolled over to the walls of her tent so she could pay attention to the noise and where it was coming from.

As she leaned closer, the sound morphed into something meaningful and decipherable. They were words, chatters coming from the tent that was right next to hers. Ebun could see the flicker of a candlelight shining hazily from the neighboring tent.

It was Sean's tent. He hadn't put his light out. Ebun had noticed that Sean never slept without the lights on.

"No, no, no, no, Miss Bethany. Please don't take my clothes off. I promise to be a good boy. I promise. I promise..."

Ebun heard the words clearly from Sean's strained voice and then saw the shadow of his arm from the tent making movements as though to dodge an attack — to protect his clothes so that Miss. Bethany wouldn't take them off.

He was having a nightmare.

A nightmare about his aunt who'd sexually abused him as a kid.

Perhaps it was an everyday nightmare. Ebun wondered how he must have dealt with the fear of the nighttime, knowing that his abuser would always appear in his dreams. Maybe, he never turned off the light during bedtime because he was scared. It had to be a trauma response.

Ebun felt her eyes sting. Tears were emerging. She felt so bad for him. And so, before examining her decision, she got up and moved out of her tent. She walked into his.

Sean was sweating profusely and was still mouthing incoherent words. The wax from the candle was melting quickly. Ebun stared at Sean for a long while. He was shedding tears as he cried for help. The sight of Sean being so vulnerable and scared fascinated Ebun negatively.

Then she reached out and placed an arm over his hands, rubbing on his calloused wrists with gentle care. After a while, his uneven breathing leveled, and his rapidly rising chest gained its tempo again. He stopped asking Miss. Bethany not to take off his clothes. The sweat from his forehead dried up.

The wax from the candle melted to nothingness, and the light from the candlelight died out, leaving the two of them in thick darkness.

Ebun heard Sean gasp from his sleep. He was scared of the darkness.

Quickly, Ebun laid down beside him, snuggling closer to him and not letting go of his hand. She used her other free hand to wrap itself around Sean's back.

"It's okay. You are not alone. Somebody is here to save you. Miss. Bethany won't take off your clothes," Ebun whispered.

Ebun comforted Sean in the darkness. As she slept so close to him, her body almost perfectly joined to his, Ebun realized how foolish she was.

She had just been thinking about creating a line, and here she was, blurring out every possibility of that line being built. What the hell was she doing? She had to think about herself first! Why did she have to care that he was having a nightmare about his traumatic past? He was still a misogynist! He couldn't be trusted or adored!

Still, as she thought those thoughts, she remained close to Sean. Not moving an inch, not letting go of his hand.

Perhaps, she was also a psychopath like Sean. Maybe, she would always feel interesting things towards him. She would always want to comfort him like this, want validation and love from him. Perhaps, she would always stoop this low.

It was psychotic indeed. The tale of a romance between a girl raped by a gang of six men and a guy who hated women and could do absolutely anything to hurt them. How uncommon and abominable!

***
A few days later.

There was nothing suspicious about the students of First Moscow State Medical University. None of the students seemed to have their eyes on Sean or Ebun. Instead, they were all focused and much too excited about their excursion activities.

Beneath the sycamore tree, the girls often chattered endlessly with insane, incomprehensible glee. They would always speak the Russian language. Even though their words didn't sound suspicious because of the way they smiled and gesticulated cheerfully, Ebun would always ask Sean to translate whatever it was that they said. Later on, she realized it was pointless.

The boys, on the other hand, were always busy playing small games in circles and groups, walking deep into the woods in search of animals (even though they'd been told by the instructor countless times that there were no wild animals in the woods), or talking about the last girl they'd recently slept with. Other times, both the boys and the girls were all preparing for daily tasks assigned to them.

There was nothing worthy of notice or attention.

Ebun and Sean ensured to always be on guard and unnoticed. They were constantly dressed in the uniform Mrs. Yekaterina had supplied them — especially whenever they were in public. They had to make the students believe they were officials. Sean and Ebun spent hours away from the camp each day, preparing to defeat their enemy.

This time, Ebun mastered the art of pulling the trigger and easily fired multiple holes into the mannequin. Hence, Sean didn't have to waste more time teaching her how to fire a gun properly. He went on to teach her how to use other weapons and even how to use her fists more technically.

One day, As Sean and Ebun were getting ready to leave the camp for another day of practice, Sean made an impromptu change of plan when he heard the announcement from the white instructor. Actually, he didn't have to change anything.

"Good morning, stoodents of Feerst Moscow State Medical Uneeveerseety!"

"Good morning, Mr. Joel," the students who stood in rows of four responded.

"Ze task for today eez going to be an exciting one. Tyere eez a skeleton of an European rabbit in ze bushes. You all vill be deevided into five groups. Tek special note of ze specie of rabbit ye have been ahksed to find. Every group has tvo hours each to complete ze task. Ze feerst team to find ze skeleton emerges as ze vinner.

Tyere is an area zat eez out of bounds because eet leads to a river. Hence, no one must be found loitering zere. Ze two officials khere," the man pointed towards Sean and Ebun. "vould be guarding ze area to ensure zat no stoodent eez found tyere."

The rest of the instructor's words fell into a babble of incoherent chatter as Sean turned towards Ebun and smiled briefly. He had heard what he needed to hear.

"Why are you smiling? This won't help us find the witness of Mr. Kojo's murder. It's a blatant waste of time."

"It will. Even if it doesn't, we might get a clue. Come on, let's go!"

"Aren't we going to ask the instructor—" Ebun paused midway when she remembered it was Sean she was dealing with. Clearly, he already knew the place the instructor was talking about.

***

The woods were primarily filled with shrubs and a few tall trees. The outlook and arrangement of the greeneries were systemically aligned to pave the way for a path where one could easily tread. Hence, As Sean and Ebun strolled along the clear muddy path, they could feel the ethereal and refreshing breeze emanating from the river that lay beyond.

As Ebun followed in Sean's lead, she took time to look around her and take in her surroundings. She could see blue butterflies systemically aligned against the roots of a huge tree. She could also observe that the trees had trunks and branches so wide that their leaves shielded the sun's light from resting on Ebun and Sean. It only peeped in, making the lights look like reflections of dancing fireflies. She also noticed the tall bushes aligned closely to the trees.

They kept walking until several minutes passed by. Ebun wondered when they would stop walking and stand guard like the instructor had asked them to. But she'd decided to remain mute and see whatever it was that Sean had up his sleeves.

The breeze from northwards fanned their faces now. They were getting closer to the river. The clear path had a muddier feel, and there were no more trees in sight—only bushes — bushes that seemed gigantic now and pricked at the hem of their uniforms.

Ebun opened her mouth to speak. She couldn't remain mute anymore. Why were they going towards the river when they were supposed to stand watch in the forest?

But no words came out of her mouth after she opened it because she heard a sound. Multiple sounds. Like footsteps. The footsteps were coming closer from behind the bushes.

They were being followed.

Ebun turned. The footsteps and the rustle against the bushes ceased. Even the shadow of the person she thought she'd seen vanished. Ebun stiffened. She looked at Sean. He'd heard it too. There was no way he wouldn't have heard that.

Ebun got reminded of that afternoon six years ago when she was being followed and how defenseless she was. She ended up getting raped. But now, as she stared at the bandolier strapped around Sean's waist, knowing that it contained several weapons, she felt a surge of relief and protection.

This was what she wished her parents had done six years ago: to have protected her. If they had locked the door before leaving the house, those guys wouldn't have hurt her in the way they did.

Ebun tried to walk as hastily and as noiselessly as she could before Sean gripped her elbow firmly and made her stop in her tracks.

"Let's stop walking. There's no use running anymore. I knew someone was going to follow us, but I kept walking to see how long the person would be able to follow us without us noticing. Russian teenagers are stubborn and adventurous. I knew someone was going to do this. We annoyed many people on the first day of the excursion, so I knew there was a tendency for one of the students to be after us. Now we are just going to let our prey walk towards us," Sean explained.

Although they were in potential danger at that moment, Ebun couldn't suppress the smile that crept up her face. Sean's strategies never ceased to amuse her.

So as they stood still on the path like watch-guards, Ebun could hear the footsteps again. The person was coming closer now. Ebun felt her pocket for the last time to be sure that her revolver was torqued in there. When she felt the weapon against her body, she closed her eyes, preparing for the person's shadow to reveal itself.

And then suddenly, she felt a hand grip her left arm from behind. Then she felt the coldness of a sharp object pressed dangerously against her jugular vein.