Try his best. That was all he could do. No promises towards staying alive. No-one could promise that.
And then he left, before Joe could say anything else. Like 'please don't leave yet. Just one more minute.' There was nothing to say, not really. Joe just felt like he should say something. What if he never got another chance? But too late for that. Now Marcus was gone again. It had been so brief, and so out-of-nowhere, that Joe was half-sure he'd hallucinated it entirely.
He'd just have to try and make sure there was no-one left who could remove that chance. It was unlikely. But a gangly nerd with anxiety issues and a fear of blood living this long had been unlikely, too.
Joe looked at the post-its. Then he retrieved his map from his bag. He crossed out any location that had been permanently danger zoned.
There were only five areas left. They were being forced together. That meant less places for murderers to hide. If he combed every inch of those five areas...
Joe retrieved the post-it notes with killers written on them, and shoved them into his pocket along with the unused remaining post-its. He stuck his things, including several mostly-used pens, into his bag. He had no time to waste.
And if he got rid of them all... if like Marcus wanted, it came down to him, Marcus and another innocent person... or even just a group of people who didn't deserve to die...
Joe picked up the scythe last. He fiddled about with it for a moment, frowning.
He'd figure that out if it happened.
((Joe Carrasco continued in Tomorrow is the most important thing in life