From the Darkness

8. The Offer

The stranger kept his hands up, mindful of the gun pointed at him, though Wooyoung didn't like the sparkle of his eyes. He seemed too eager to be here, and it persisted even when Wooyoung levered his gun directly at his forehead. His gun arm was used to the motion, tilting to catch the recoil.

In awe, the stranger traced his eyes over Wooyoung's frame.

"Yes, this is exactly what I need. You are perfect," he gasped in marvel. When his hands came down to wring into each other, Wooyoung drew his brows together. San lingered behind him, watchful of the peculiar visitor. Sweat pearled on his forehead as he stared into the muzzle of his gun and the flush to his cheeks was feverish.

"I asked who you are," Wooyoung barked, not up for jokes. For now, no coyotes strayed near, but something told him leaving this fanatic to the fouls wouldn't work. He would probably come back to crawl after them once more. How long had he watched them?

"I'm Jongho," the man whispered, licking the sweat off his lip. "And you are Death. No doubt, it's you."

"You know me?" Wooyoung's voice remained hard, leaving no room for needless dawdling. He met few people in his life, so that handful was easy to remember. This person was a stranger.

San subtly peered at his neck and wrists, tried to tell if the fungus hid beneath his clothing or some other type of craze befell him.

"I do, I do. Lots in the desert do. You shoot like no other. I was hoping to meet your weapon arm one day." As if in reverence, he held out his hands. Wooyoung stepped back with a growl on his lips. His finger twitched around the trigger. Whatever this guy was, he spelled trouble.

A hand met Wooyoung's shoulder and gave it a squeeze as if to ground him. When San stepped around him, Jongho pursed his lips.

"But you are different. I followed you for so long, Death. I wanted to recruit you and your friend, but this isn't him."

"Recruit me?" Wooyoung echoed, not giving away anything about Yunho. In an instant, the greedy shine was back. Shifty eyes flicked left and right as if anyone could overhear their conversation.

"I plan for a marvelous expedition, but I need able mercenaries by my side. Unfathomable pay awaits you. I watched you for many weeks. Saw your skill and your compassion. When you had mercy on that family despite having nothing yourself, well... I was convinced. As for this one..." He studied San like an extra object of loot, contemplating his worth. "He can fight. I could take him along if you want me to."

"The fuck? No one says we're going with you, weirdo," Wooyoung gritted, but his grip eased. He was stunned that he had been followed for so long without taking notice. Though alarming, this guy didn't attempt anything.

"Oh, but you will want to!" Jongho insisted. "You will have a purpose and I will pay you anything you demand if we succeed. Which we will, with you by my side, I am sure! You know how to shoot, yes, you do," he babbled to himself. He looked young for a madman, perhaps a mechanic? The tools on his belt were meant to tinker with. He also carried a few odd inventions that might have been weapons, but he drew none of them.

"We don't work with others. This team will disperse soon," San clarified, declining the deal as well. Both of them had something else planned.

But Jongho was persistent. He shuffled closer, wide eyes expressive with madness over something only he could see.

"I have the cure," he whispered, casting another glance into the empty desert. "I can fix everything. The sky, the water, everything. If you help me, you will live as the richest men on earth. You will never hunger again because you saved humanity!"