Crenshaw regretted taking it, but knew he had to. If it fell into the wrong hands… but as long as he had it with him, and as long as he wasn’t caught…

Where can he go? He knew the apartment wasn’t safe anymore, and he probably couldn’t use any of his credit cards. Not that I have much credit left, he thought wryly to himself.

He continued down the alley until he found an old warehouse he and his friends used to mess around in when they were still in high school. It was usually abandoned in the day. He climbed through a window and wearily sat down on the ground, glad to have a rest.

He kept the book under his coat. Now what? Destroy the book? Make a bonfire right here? But he knew that the book wouldn’t stay destroyed for long, that somehow it would come back, that someday someone will find it again, long after his death.

This book could destroy the world, and now he was the one responsible for it…

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