Ray remained with Jack the remainder of the night, rifle in hands, and patrolled the camp to keep his heavy eyelids from meeting. When dawn broke, he found purple bags beneath Jack's eyes, and the man, though he had stopped shivering, had curled up on his sleeping bag. Ray packed up all of Jack's things and escorted him back to his truck.
“I'm really sorry about what happened last night,” Ray said beside Jack's truck.
“It's okay,” Jack said with a sincere smile. “You saved my ass, and that's all that matters to me.”
After some small talk, Ray said, “I'll check up on you, see how you're doing. I'm not sure when I'll be able to, but I promise I'll make the time somehow.” Then they shook hands.
Ray had intended to visit Jack during the week, but between work and hunting the unseen beast, he never did keep his promise. He read about Jack's suicide in the paper two weeks later when the disappearances and reports of being the plaything for some invisible thing ceased.
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