Wayne replayed Clarice's words in his head even as she left. If she found out he was lying, she'd be upset.
Yeah. He was upset with himself, too. Join the club.
Not upset enough, apparently, even after all that he told himself. Not enough to tell the truth. Probably not even enough to change his ways. He was a liar, a thief. A regular piece of shit. Perhaps he was tempted to use that as some sort of excuse, too - he couldn't tell the truth or do selfless, noble things because he was a bad person, because that was just who he was - but that was a lie, too. There might very well be a natural instinct involved, an impulse to screw other people over just so he wouldn't die, but in the end he had made his own choices. He was responsible for everything that he'd done.
He watched Ty and Clarice go their separate ways, then spared a glance for the girl whose name he still didn't know.
"I don't know why you'd want to follow someone who loots the dead."
There was a moment's pause where he considered saying something more, but then he simply began walking again. He had a long walk ahead, and too many things he couldn't outrun.
((Wayne Cox continued in A Chef's Nightmare