Page 73 of Hack

"Okay, we are getting out of here then. You okay to follow me?"

Carter nodded, even though he wasn't sure he could.

"Where's the syringe you used?"

Feeling around in his pocket, he brought it out.

Xander took it and dropped it in the bag. "Let's go."

Carter let Xander lead him out. Moving through the rooms and hallways was easier with the lights on. He blinked several times, his vision blurry, and he realized he was crying. He lifted the mask to the top of his forehead.

"Careful. You're covered in blood. Don't touch your face or anything else."

Carter was right beside him as they stepped out of the house. The cooler air helped to clear his head, but he was still shaking so badly that he was barely able to move.

"Stay with me. We'll get to the car and get you back to the motel. I've got to get you cleaned up first before anyone sees you." Xander kept talking, but the words were a blur as he replayed what he'd just done repeatedly in his mind.

He stopped suddenly, gagging.

"Shit." Xander pulled another empty bag from his pocket. "If you're going to get sick, you throw up in that. Do not leave DNA for the police to find." Xander handed him the bag.

"I'm okay." Carter swallowed hard. He wasn't, but what choice did he have? They needed to leave. If he could just make it to the car.

The slow walk with Xander guiding him seemed like miles. It was like one of those bad dreams where every step you took, the distance seemed to grow farther in front of you. He tried to focus on a tree, but kept losing track of it.

Hell, if Xander wasn't there, he'd probably walk the wrong way.

"Almost there," Xander said. "When we get to the car, I need you to take everything off but your boxers and put them in the bag with the knife, okay?"

Carter nodded and kept walking. One foot in front of the other. He tried to focus on his steps, but tripped.

"Okay, you're safe to strip. Do you need help?" Xander asked.

Again he nodded, unsure if he could do anything right now.

"I've got you. I'm going to do this carefully so we don't smear more blood on you, but we're going to have to find a way to clean you up before we get to the hotel. I've got my bag in the car with clothes, so you'll have to wear my sweats in."

He wasn't sure what Xander was saying, but nodded anyway. He hated the darkness. He wanted to see what he was doing.

Xander carefully emptied the pockets of Carter's hoodie, then lifted it carefully over his head, spreading the neck wide to keep it away from his face. Next was his shirt.

"Is there blood on that?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"It goes right through. You've probably got it down to your skin," Xander told him. "Can you kick off your shoes?"

Carter did, but nearly fell while doing it.

"Okay, now your pants, then socks." Xander didn't even ask if he needed help. He just reached in and undid the button of his jeans and lowered the zipper for him.

Carter gagged again as the scent of blood hit him.

Xander had the bag ready, but he didn't need it.

Somehow, he managed to get his pants off, then lifted his feet so Xander could get his socks. Once that was done, Xander took Carter's shirt and started to wipe at his face and hands with it. "And this is why we wear long sleeves and masks."

Carter stared at him. "I did."

"I know, and it saved this from being worse. Blood splatter gets all over everything. You'll be okay. Let me grab my sweats out of the car." He leaned Carter against the door and went around to the other side.