‘Yeah,’ agrees Jaden. ‘Let’s get out of here while we can.’ The Vagrant’s shoulders droop and he takes a step forward, then another. Then he stops. Again he presses a hand to his ribs. A strange smile touches his face. He brings the sword tight to his body and begins to spin. A song is sung in all directions. It is simple, of one note. The Scabs understand immediately, dropping away from their hosts, seeking sanctuary, finding none. Trapped between their former prisoners and a layer of plastic, they writhe, then burn.
