Inconclusive

Matt couldn't help but love Milo. I mean who didn't love Milo? Well besides most people on earth. Matt however was not like most people on earth. He was a little bit f*cked in the head. He smiled as Milo jumped on his lap and gave out a sarcastic groan of pain. "I'm getting a little too old for you, I think." he said cheerily. He got out of his chair and stood very tall in front of the fire. He wasn't sure how they'd go about leaving. Should they leave a note? No, the note wouldn't be wise. Any sign that they had given up was going to cause more hell then ever. Matt's mood changed and his eyes sharpened as he turned to look at his friend.

"We run." he said plainly. "That's our best option, right now. We leave this house and never come back. We run as fast as we possibly can and hope we outrun them. It's the only way we'll stand a chance. And you've certainly got a better chance than I do." he told him. He never really understood how dangerous this was going to be now. He could feel it in his stomach, an uneasy feeling. A feeling that made him incredibly uncomfortable with this decision. But the feeling in his heart was calming and soothing. "You ready?" he asked as he looked away from the fire.

Milo was not processing what was going on right now. Perhaps it was the alcohol, the d'Eath genes, or Milo's chronic condition of being unable to focus or pay attention to any serious matters, but the idea of simply running out didn't seem right. Sure, if they ran out, they'd be gone. Even so, the functioning part of his brain seemed to think there were major flaws to so simple a plan.

"Then what? A few weeks go by and they catch on and then we're toast? The shock factor is removed and they continue on, just as bad, thinking no one can stop them." Milo paused. "They should all be coming in soon for our weekly check in, right? Let's have some fun. Let 'em know they're losing out."