Dean’s eyes bulged out, his mouth gaping like a dead fish, yet he made no sound. After a few seconds, he collapsed with a thud onto the small platform, lifeless.
Ding Yao climbed off his back and lifted Dean's coat. He had no interest in the gun; he was too small, too weak, unable to manage the recoil. Shooting was utterly inaccurate for him. But as expected, there indeed hung a hand grenade from Dean's waist.
Ding Yao tucked the grenade into his pocket and looked up, stepping over Dean's corpse to continue climbing upward...
Mario and Collie murmured as they made their way back.
“Is it really him?” Mario said irritably.
“Should be…” Collie couldn’t be sure.
“How do you know? His flesh is gone, even his eyes and brain eaten away by rats, just a skeleton. How can you be sure it's him?” Mario retorted.
Collie replied, “His hair is still there, and its color matches."
Mario saw the logic in this and thought for a moment, “Then should we tell Mr. Matre about it, saying he’s dead?”
The two reached the spot where they had just parted with Dean. Mario looked up and shouted, “Dean? Dean? Where are you? Come out, he’s already dead.”