Raechel Hudson

Passing On

The woman shuffles along the road, looking like someone who hasn’t slept in days. She sways gently as she meanders up the road, ignoring scattered rubbish and debris. Kit follows her on dampened feet. She at least is more wary of the trash lest she draw attention to herself. The wandering woman pauses and tilts her head back. Kit darts in, drawing her weapon from the sheath on her chest. Before the woman can turn fully, the six inch ice pick is embedded firmly in her ear. Her cry is aborted and her limbs twitch but Kit wraps her arms around them.