There are two of them, one well-outfitted and holding a rifle, the other, like me, in just jeans and a T-shirt.
"Hi," says T-shirt. "Who are you?"
"Hi," I say. "I’m Chris."
"Okay," says T-shirt. "See that guy there?"
"Yeah," I say.
T-shirt punches me in the face. My vision blurs. The one with the rifle watches silently.
"He said I had to kill you or he’d kill me," T-shirt says, punching me again. Everything goes black as I fall unconscious.
T-shirt keeps talking. “He said I had to. He said he’d kill me if I didn’t kill you. That’s why… that’s why. He said I had to.”