They sped off in their van, with a piss-drunk guy they just grabbed off the street tied up in the back. Once they were in the clear, somewhere out in the countryside, up on the mountain that overlooked Ormond, they finally stopped.
Frank didn't quite remember how they got there. It just kind of happened. One moment they had mindless murder on their minds, the next they were fucking. They went at each other like rabid animals, ripping and tearing on clothes, kissing and licking and sucking, entangling in a mess of sweaty and greasy bodies.
"What should we do with him?" Joey eventually asked, pointing at their shell-shocked victim, curled up in the corner.
"Oh right," Frank said. They had almost forgotten about him. He produced a battered camera from somewhere inside the mess of their van. "He can watch... and record." He gave the others a devious smile that only they could see. "Make it a good one and we might let you barter your life for it. Simple enough, right?"
The man in the corner nodded.
He truly did the best he could.
In the end, they stabbed him like all the others.