CROW: (whisper) Choog it. Choog it. Catch ahold.

HOSS: Here! It’s right here. Close. Coming at me. Mean and tough and cool. Untouchable. Here he is. You see?

CROW: Catch him fast.

DOC: He’s lost it now.

HOSS: (points to CROW’s chest) No, look! Right here it comes! Emergence. I see him now. A true killer. True to his heart. True to his voice. Whole. Unshakable. There! See? He’s coming out! Right toward me now. There! Stepping out! A body as sure as you or me. See? Identity!

CROW: Snatch him up now. Take ahold.

(CHASER makes a move toward HOSS. DOC stops him.)

DOC: No! Don’t bump him. Let this ghost roll past him.

HOSS: (seeing phantom image) His cold eyes. His cut. Look! He knows his fate. Beyond doubt. Here he is. True courage in every move. Old, old, ancient hero. Plunged headlong through fear and come out clean. Wears his scars in humility. Died a million deaths. Tortured and pampered. Holds no grudge. No blame. No guilt. Passed beyond sorrow and tears. Beyond ache for the world. Pitiless. Indifferent. And riding a state of grace. It ain’t me. It ain’t me! It ain’t me! See?

(HOSS slashes out with knife at phantom image; whirls around to face it again behind him.)

HOSS: You see it scream? You hear its hollow face? Its agony. Its scar’s broke open now. See? I’ve slashed him clean. Here! Here in his dark throat.

(He slashes out again and whirls.)

HOSS: Here! Here in his broken knees! His baggy sleeves cut to ribbons! Cut! Slashed! Mutilated from my dreams!

(He keeps cutting, slashing, and whirling at phantom.)

HOSS: Shredded! See! See him stagger helpless! See him stunned and hopeless! Ghost face. Ghastly partner. Now! Now you’re doomed. Now!

(HOSS turns the knife on himself and stabs his belly.)

HOSS: No way back in. No reentry. Gone! Gone from me. Long gone from me.

(He collapses to the floor, face down on the knife. A river of bright red blood begins to pour from him and continues through the end of the play.)

CROW: Perfect, Leathers. Absoloo. A genius mark. Took yer sweet time sliding home but finally found the killing zone.

(BECKY moves slowly to HOSS’s crumpled body and kneels beside him.)

BECKY: (to CROW as she moves) You played him for this. You had him fixed.

CROW: From the drop, sweets. From the drop. A fishtail always gives itself away by the wake it makes.

DOC: Same with a snake. I’ve seen that. Sidewinders. Diamondbacks. Little reminders which side of the crick to strike your camp.

CROW: Yeah, you been out there, Viejo man. You be out there again now. Pack your sack.