Dead silence.
Only the sound of the wind and snow.
Kevin gasped for breath, each inhale feeling like a red-hot knife twisting in his gut.
He crawled over with difficulty and snatched the money-filled bag from beside Scarface's cooling corpse. He then retrieved the share of money that was originally his from Scarface's body, even rifling through and taking the man's own wallet.
So much money.
A thick stack, stuffing all his pockets.
"Home..."
Leaning against the wall, Kevin staggered to his feet. The blood loss made his vision blur, the world spinning around him. The surrounding snowflakes seemed to transform into a black vortex.
But he had only one thought.
'Go home. Show this money to Michael. Tell that foolish brother of his, who only knew how to study and sell his blood, that he—Kevin—was the family's savior. He'd won. He'd taken everyone out. He was returning with the treasure.'
One step, then another...
A shocking trail of blood stained the snow behind him.
