It was the last bus out of the city and it was headed to Deep Groan. Mark had heard of it, a tiny village not far from the edge of the world. He had heard bad things about the place, but the other option - to stay put in the city - was worse. It involved being stabbed with very pointy knives and then dumped into the river, and Mark didn't fancy taking a dip in the dark poisoned waters even if he wasn't full of holes. He climbed aboard, paid the fee to the bored looking bus driver and shuffled to the back of the bus, looking left and right out of the window to see if Bas and the Boys had realised he'd skipped out on them. He sat at the back, his collar turned up on his shirt, as though that would disguise him, and his face anxiously staring straight ahead until the bus doors farted and they started to move slowly out of the station. He didn't relax until they'd passed the city gates, and even then he was on edge.
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