We decided to stop by in one of the local bars in the town we're in at the moment.

Jack's back.

He was just... sitting there, in the first pub we found, doing whiskey shots, one after the other at the bar. It was like he was waiting for us, almost. His arms outta the sling and cast but it looks... Burnt, almost. The skin's all red and scabbed. His clothes look rattier than usual, his long coat's tattered at the ends, and he's grown a bit of a scruffy goatee on his chin. 

As saw him, he looked me square in the eye and stood up. I started to greet him, but he just... Turned and ran. He dashed out to the bathroom, knocking aside a rather chubby guy with a beer. I followed him into the bathroom, hearing a cubicle shut as I entered... But there was no-one there.

We haven't seen Jack since.