I figured it was high time to post a bit of fiction. I'm looking for general advice on technique, flow, sound, possible cuts and additions, and the overall quality of the story itself. I've gone over this so many times that I have trouble distancing myself from it. Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated, and reciprocated.

 

The Coachman by Ryan Pierce

Chapter 1

No Peace Lasts Forever

 

A killer unwinds trembling fingers from the hilt of his dagger. The blood of a mother and unborn sister flows over tanned skin, staining the mother's tunic. Her eyes roll from the two men behind the killer and linger on the killer's twisted scar, and recognition banishes whatever will remains from her body. She slumps against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

     "You-- this can't be..." she whispers in his ear, her last breath vanishing against his neck.

     The killer backs away and the mother crumbles to the ground. The dagger juts from her pregnant belly, a perverse phallus ending life instead of seeding it.

     A voice calls out and the killer turns. A boy races toward him, his eyes aged by bloodlust, and the killer smiles.

     The boy rushes in under the arms of one of the other men and slams into his side. The man stumbles and the boy winds steady fingers around the knife on his belt, unsheathing it. The other man moves to stop the boy, who ducks under his reach and plunges the blade into his gut.

     The boy's eyes focus upon the killer. He screams, swinging the blade wildly. The killer dodges the weapon and brings up his sword, opening a crimson gash on the boy's face from the chin to his eye.

     The boy drops his weapon and reaches up. The killer's own scar twitches when the boy explores the wound, and he smiles again. With a hammer-like fist he backhands the boy, who lands unconscious next to his mother.

     The killer turns, his form masked by the light spilling through the door. The silhouette morphs into a winged beast, and the mother's lips move one last time, her last breath a whisper, pleading. Accusing.

     "Euticus..."

 

    "No!" Euticus Bluejay screamed, sitting up in bed. Calloused hands met sun browned skin, searching for a twisted scar. They found only the night stubble of a young man.

     Just another dream, then.

    The last echoes of his terror faded against the dawn light leaking into his hut, replaced by anxiety. The first day of the Living Season had come, bringing with it yet another death.

     Death can be conquered, his father would have told him, in the other-tongue of his homeland.

     Light reflected off his father's sword from its place on the wall, punctuating the thought. Euticus turned his head from the memory of his father and splashed water from a basin on his face and neck. It cut through the residue of his nightmare like a blade, peeling it way and leaving him somewhat refreshed.

     He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, concentrating on the sensations of the world around him. The crack of an ax splitting wood met his ears, followed by the hollow sound of each half hitting the ground. The Elder Grackle, no doubt, replenishing his stores after breakfast. Speaking of, the aroma of bacon and eggs wafted through Widow Cardinal's window next hut over. Children played in the thoroughfare outside. Their mirth brought the first traces of a smile to Euticus' lips, but when he recognized the tell tale call outs and answers of Blind Love, those traces disappeared.

     He shook his head and opened his eyes, dispelling the mental images in his mind. A young man weathered by memory stared at him from the surface of the water. He remembered carefree childhood evenings cast in red by the Resting Season sun while The Daughter Sparrow wandered around blindfolded, looking for him and their friend, First Son Crow. One day she caught Euticus. After running her hands over his face, she guessed his name, meaning they would be together for the rest of their lives.

     Children's nonsense. Nothing ever came of those foolish games.

     Euticus pushed away from the basin and stretched, studying the village from his door. Smoke rose up from behind some of the huts, reminding him of a fire that once raged among his people's homes. Screams from that night still haunted him while lying in bed, waiting for sleep to come and knowing the horrors that faced him when it did.

     He looked up at the mountains. Their faces glowed pink with the light of dawn, blushing from the horrible winged secrets they kept in the night, secrets which sought fit to lurk within Euticus' dreams.

     Dreams at night, memories by day. For Bear's sake, why wouldn't they let him be?

     Euticus turned toward The Birthing Pool, shimmering just beyond the village. Fishing boats rocked from side to side in its calm waters, their owners casting woven nets in hopes of a large catch before midday, when the sun would beat relentlessly off the surface.

     Village folklore told of a man who would be king, and that the people of the Valley would know him when he skipped a stone from one shore of the pond to the other. A group of boys stood at the water's edge, trying their hand. None of them could manage a single skip.

     How many days had Euticus wasted in that pursuit, with nothing to show for it but a killer throw that, while a far cry from making it across to the other shore, put him closer than any other? Too many to count. He could not remember a single day before his father's death that didn't begin with him working his way to the pond with a handful of rocks, heart filled with the belief that today would be the day, and end with him walking home, head high with the assurance that he could try again tomorrow.

     "Oy! Euticus!" someone called. The voice belonged to Father Hawk, waving at him from the head of a formation of hunters. Boar's blood stained their already dark skin a deep maroon. Various pelts taken from previous kills, mostly black bears, lay draped over their shoulders. Finely sharpened antlers hung from their loincloths, thirsting for the jugular of whatever kill the hunters made. Euticus nodded respectfully, watching them stride into the forest. Next harvest he would join their ranks and finally regain some sense of purpose. His belly rolled at the prospect, but it also brought the promise of manhood and respect.

     A pleasant voice invaded his ear and increased his self doubt.

O, what will this season bring? 

Love and hope for everything?    

I hope the season will bring for me

Love and Warmth and happy dreams

 

    Daughter Sparrow rounded a bend in the road, followed closely by First Son Crow. Sparrow's shoulder length black hair took on a life of its own in the morning sun, lifted gently by the breeze. An unguarded smile testified all that anyone needed to know; she would be bound at the end of the week to Crow.

    Sparrow saw Euticus and smiled. He did not smile back.

    "Why so glum?" Sparrow asked, joining him.

     "Yeah, Eue," Crow said, leaning against the remains of a fence. "Why so glu..."

     The fence creaked and began to drift under his weight, cutting him off. Sparrow fought laughter.

     "Watch yourself," Euticus said. "I've been meaning to fix it but, you know..."

     "Right...Euticus the Brave, stooping to manual labor? Psh..."

     "Crow..." Sparrow said, putting a hand on his shoulder to silence him. "Play nice."

     "Yes, Crow," Euticus said. "Behave."

     Crow's shoulders rose with a restraining breath.

     "What possesses you two, lately?" Sparrow asked, moving between them. "Ever since Father Bluejay died the two of you have constantly been at each other's throats."

    "I suppose that's my fault," Euticus said. "I'm angry, and I have been taking it out on the wrong people...maybe."

     Euticus focused that last maybe on Crow, who looked away.

     "I know how you must feel," Sparrow said. "But two harvests have passed, Eue. That can not be the only thing bothering you."

     Yes, but your father died trying to protect his hunt partner. Mine died because his hunt partner ran away.

     Euticus looked back out over the village, rubbing his forehead. Ever since that day, when Ezekiel Bluejay had gone into the woods with Father Crow and not come out again, the familiar sights and sounds of the village made his body ache and his head throb.

     "Shouldn't the two of you be making plans?" he asked.

     "Can't argue there," Crow said, uncrossing his arms. "Come on, Sparrow."

     "You go on," she said, waving Crow away. "I'm not letting Eue off that easy."

     Crow's jaw tightened, perhaps ready to grab her and pull her along with him, but one look at Euticus and the rigidity of his spine disappeared. He slumped away, saying, "Find me later."

     "I will," Sparrow said, sparing him a glance. Crow stood watching them for a moment before making his way toward the center of the village.

     Sparrow stepped forward and put a hand on Euticus' bare shoulder. He tensed under her touch and turned away. The children's game neared its conclusion. Judging from the fit one of the boys threw, the girl had guessed his name.

     "Reminds me of some one I know," Sparrow said, poking Euticus in the ribs.

     "If memory serves correctly," he said, pushing her hand away, "I believe I made you cry."

     "It serves correctly, sir. Though only partially."

     Euticus raised an eyebrow, starting for the apple tree next to his hut. "Oh?"

     "M-hm, because after you made me cry I slapped you. I remember clearly. You went quiet and got all red, and then your lip started to quiver...oh it was so adorable..."

     Euticus grunted, plucking an apple and biting a chunk out of it. Behind him, Sparrow cleared her throat. He turned to find her with arms crossed, the bottom of her buck skin skirt bobbing with the tapping of her foot.

     "What?" he said through a mouthful of apple.

     "You know very well what. I would like an apple, please, and you know I can't reach the good ones."

     Euticus swallowed and lazily reached up, pulling another apple from the branch.

     "You know, you used to be taller than me," he said, tossing it to her.

     Sparrow picked the apple out of the air and said, "Things change."

     Euticus paused mid-bite for a second, finished, and leaned back against the tree. She sat next to him, munching on her apple.

     "I've been thinking--" she began.

     "Uh-oh--"

     "Shut up and listen. I've been thinking about the past...good gods, the past. You know what my mother always says?"

     Euticus shook his head, throwing the rest of the apple away along with his appetite. Sparrow planted one fist on her hip, hunched slightly over, and waved a finger through the air in mimicry of her mother. Euticus thought it either a very good imitation or a vision of Sparrow's own future.

     "She says, 'you know you are getting old when you have a past to think about.'"

     "I like that," Euticus said, nodding. "Know what my father always told me?"

     "What's that?" Sparrow asked, leaning forward.

     "Death can be conquered."

     Sparrow shivered and looked away.

     Euticus sat, closed his eyes and ran his hand over the grass. It felt springy under his touch and left his palm tingling. Sparrow shifted closer to him, so that their shoulders touched.

     "Anyway...." she said. "I've been thinking about everything we used to do together, like your foolish scheme to see how deep the Birthing Pond goes, or that time we tried to find the remains of the Death Widow. You were always an adventurer, unlike the rest of us, until...."

     "My father."

     "Huh? Yes. After that, you...you were so damned dark all the time. I regret it now, but I feared speaking to you-"

     "Must have been nice, because I can't seem to remember a time, even a day, when you did not at least bother me in passi--OW!"

     Sparrow pinched him, leaving a red welt to blossom on his bicep. He rubbed at it gently while she continued.

     "Crow and I always had fun because of you. I miss that so much."

     "What is your point?"

     "Just that, well, just because Crow and I are being Bound doesn't mean we will forget you."

     Euticus shuddered, tried to suppress the emotion that pounced into his chest, but a sudden, gasping breath betrayed his composure.

     "That's it, isn't it? You're worried about the Binding."

     Euticus' denial failed in his throat, emitting an embarrassing squeak.

     "You know," Sparrow began, "Of all the things we did, that first little foray of ours remains the clearest. You remember, right? When we went looking for the Temple of Life?"

     Euticus nodded slowly. How could he ever forget that night? How could he ever forget with his dreams reminding him almost every night of that gray skinned, winged horror?

     "I fell," Sparrow went on, "And you pulled me out. You saved me. That's why I remember it. You went to investigate that awful sound, and Crow the Chickenhearted ran away, and I followed you. I can't remember what you found..."

     "I found nothing," Euticus lied.

     "I don't believe you. Every time some one brings it up you look terrified."

     "I said I found nothing," Euticus said. Sparrow shrank away from him, the first time she had ever done so.

     "I'm sorry," Euticus said. Sparrow's hands loosened their grip from the fold of her skirt. For a long while they sat, pretending to watch the village. More columns of smoke rose up from the huts, almost completely vertical. The children had returned inside or moved on to some other part of the village, perhaps to lift their skirts and drop their trousers to see if the rumors about boys and girls being different were true. Crow, Sparrow, and he had done the same, and so had many of the others their age. Odd, that something so innocent could become such a problem later in life.

     "Let's go see it," Sparrow said.

     "What?"

     "The Temple. Let's go see it, just you and me, no Crow. I want to see it, Euticus, not just hear about it. You do too, I can tell. Part of you believes you can still skip that stone...."

     "I haven't skipped stones in years."

     "So you say, Eue," she said, moving closer to him, so close that he could feel her breath on his neck when she spoke. His fingers stopped pawing the grass and clamped down on a handful of cold soil. "But I've seen you from my window at night, standing on the shore of the Birthing Pool, holding a stone in your hand. You never throw it, but I can see that you want to. Come on. Just us. It'll be fun."

     "What about Crow? If you tell him he'll say no, or want to come along..."

     "Forget about Crow," Sparrow said, sitting up and crossing her arms. A strand of hair fell from behind her ear, covering her eyes. "He doesn't own me. Not yet, not until week's end..."

     Euticus did not know what to make of this reaction, and said nothing. Still, her words remained, heavy in his heart.

     "Forget it," she said, standing. "I'll just go by myself."

     "Huh? Wait, Sparrow..."

     She whirled around, arms crossed, jaw set, and eyes darting away from his whenever he moved to make contact. Euticus knew she'd made up her mind. If he didn't go with her, she would go alone. What would he do then, if something happened to her? No, best not to chance it. Besides, he did want to see it, the place his father had always warned him never to go to. This might be his last chance.

     "What?"

     "I'll come with you," he said. "Just let me get a tunic and my pouch."

     Sparrow's face nearly split, and she clapped.

     "I'll wait right here."

     He went inside, slipped on a buckskin shirt, wrapped some jerky and dried berries in a cloth and stuffed them in his pouch. Something hard inside bumped against his knuckles. He grabbed it and pulled out a flint, studied it for a second, and put it back in. Better to have it, after all.

     Sparrow still waited for him outside, and upon discovering this he felt both relieved and disappointed.

     "Ready?" she asked, and he shook his head. "Good. I wouldn't want my protector to get too comfortable."

     Euticus didn't like the implications in that statement. Sometimes Sparrow would spout things out without giving any thought to what she said.

     "Let's go," he said, and they made their way to the edge of the Village. Euticus kept his distance from Sparrow. While village tradition did not forbid a man to be seen with the future bond mate of another, getting too close often led to complications. If Crow saw them and took the wrong impression, he'd be within his rights to beat the piss out of both of them. Knowing Crow, he didn't think that would happen, at least not to Sparrow.

     They reached the edge of the forest and his concerns about such things vanished. Standing before the trees of the realm of Bear, he decided he'd prefer a beating to being separated from Sparrow. He probably deserved one, at any rate.

     "Stay close," he said. Sparrow clutched a handful of his tunic and he led her onto the old road. Thick growths of foliage choked the path just a few meters ahead. The branches clawed at their clothes and snagged on Euticus pouch. Humidity, sweat, and discomfort thankfully replaced fear.

     "Look!" Sparrow said, coming to a place along the ancient road where the ground dropped away into a deep gully. "This is where I fell."

     Sparrow knelt down to examine the drop, but Euticus focused on a spot further up the road and to the right, about two hundred yards deeper in. In the midst of the thriving forest undergrowth he saw a dead space, like someone had carved out an oval shaped chunk of the green wall. Rectangular stones with an unnatural texture of grooves and rises lined the edge of the clearance. Amongst the stones, the feathers and delicate bones of birds and small animals littered the blackened soil. A faint, smoky smell hung in the air.

     He picked up a stick and poked at the dirt inside the circle. It broke apart into thin chunks and rustled leaf-like under his prodding before disintegrating into a fine dust, exposing dirt sharing the tan color of the road.

     This is where he had encountered the gray demon twenty harvests before. A tree had fallen on it, and black ooze had bubbled from its strange mouth, lined with flexible strands of writhing flesh in place of teeth. When it saw Euticus it began clawing in the dirt, trying to drag its broken body toward him. He shivered at what could have happened had the thing succeeded in doing so. Gurgling on its own blood, facing death, Euticus saw that it only wanted one thing: to kill him. He saw no trace of it now, nor of the tree that had crushed it

     Sparrow tugged at his arm, pulling him back to the present. She smiled gently down at him. He stood and turned away, hiding an upward tug at his own lips.

     "Do you even know how to find this temple?" Sparrow asked some time later. The sun had long since passed over head and their shadows stretched deep into the trees, disappearing under the natural darkness of the forest.

     "At the base of the mountains, directly east of the village. The road leads right to it."

     "Are we even on the road?"

     "Yes." Euticus pointed to a couple of ruts in the ground. He grinned, confident in this fact, and the doubt on her face eased.

     "Okay, then. Lead on," she said. Euticus continued, finding her willingness to follow him a bit troubling. He had never actually been to the temple; no one had, save his father, assuming his stories were true.

     It mattered little in that moment, however. They were children again.

     Steam rose like specters from tiny mounds in the ground, turning the air heavy and wet. The air smelled faintly of rotten eggs, and the forest began to thin out until it consisted only of blackened tree trunks stretching crooked branches into the sky. Euticus thought it looked a bit like lightning, only from the ground, and stopped.

     "Euticus, what is it?"

     "Shh. Listen."

     "I don't hear...I don't hear anything. Euticus, are we-"

     He nodded, knowing what she would ask. The hunters had a name for this place: Death's Maw. No one save Euticus' father had ever been beyond it.

     "I think we're getting close," Euticus said, moving slowly. An hour later, they entered a clearing.

     "Thank the Bear..." Sparrow said, pushing through the skeletal remains of the tree line. The mountains appeared no closer, their black peaks creating a jagged edge against the red sky, like some terrible thing had torn the top off of the world.

     "We should turn back," Euticus said. "They'll be missing you in the village."

     "Oh, c'mon," Sparrow argued. "Let's keep going. At least camp. Yes, let's camp. I'd rather camp here than walk in the forest at night, agree?"

     "Sparrow, I don't think...

     "I don't care what you think!" she yelled. Euticus jumped back.

     "I...I'm sorry, Eue. I didn't mean to be cross. Please. Let's just camp."

     Euticus sighed, taking in their surroundings. The trees, the ground, everything dead, everything but them. They should be safe. Safer than trying to make it back to the village before nightfall, anyway.

     "We'll camp here, then. I'll get a fire started."

     Sparrow helped him gather wood and with help from the flint Euticus kept in his pouch, they had a fire within a few minutes. They settled opposite each other, watching the dancing flames. Euticus stole a glance at her, shifting in the silence. He began to speak when Sparrow asked, "Do you think we'll be happy?"

     "What do you mean?"

     "Crow and I. Do you think we'll be happy once we are Bound?"

     Her eyes peered through the fire, focused on some distant thing.

     "Why wouldn't you be?" He threw another piece of wood into the fire. It flared, sending sparks twirling up into the sky, and settled again. "You and Crow are getting along, aren't you?"

     "Mostly. It's just...he's..."

     "A bore."

     "Yes...I mean...no...I...yes."

     Euticus laughed, pulling Sparrow's attention from the fire. She grabbed a stick and threw it, hitting him in the chest. It stuck feebly in the folds of his tunic.

     "Wha-?" he said, looking at it, and began laughing even harder.

     "I can't believe you're laughing at something like this. I'm having doubts about being Bonded to a man I believe I love, and you treat it like a joke..."

     "Sorry. Do you want to hear what I think?" He plucked the stick from his tunic and tossed it into the flames.

     "I'm not so sure..."

     "Too bad. You love him?"

     She briefly hesitated, then nodded.

     "Then consider yourself lucky. The Binding ceremony rarely occurs out of love. And I know how Crow feels about you. He's probably pulling his hair out right now."

     Frowning, she brought her knees up and rested her head upon her arms. Euticus leaned back, groaning. What in Vulture's name did she expect him to say?

     "What about you?" she asked, the left side of her face squished by her arm.

     Euticus jerked up. "Me? What do I have to do with anything?"

    "You under appreciate your role in our lives, Euticus. In my life. You're like a brother to Crow, and me, well..."

     "Well, what?"

     "I never forgot about that time I..." she stopped, looking away "...guessed your name." She blinked, tears flowing now. Hands folded and fidgeting in his lap, he let her cry.

     "I love you both, so much," she said after a long moment. "But I know I can't have you both. And he asked me first and ..."

     "I don't matter, Sparrow," Euticus said, thinking it funny that Crow the Chickenhearted had found the guts to ask Sparrow for her hand before Euticus the Brave. Euticus the Foolish. "You join with Crow. He..."

     "He what?"

     "He returns your love."

     Sparrow backed away. "Wait...what? What about you?"

     "No," he said. "Not that way."

     Sparrow shook her head. "You're lying. You just don't want to be a problem..."

     "I'm not..."

     "Don't say that!" She crawled around to his side of the fire, settling next to him with her legs folded under her. "You've always tried to act like you're unimportant, but you are. You've helped shape my life. You are a part of it. You can't ignore that. I won't let you."

     "Sparrow..."

     She stopped him with a kiss, freezing him, but when her lips pressed fully against his he melted and showed his lie by returning her passion. They drifted to the ground and soon they lay entwined by the warmth of the fire, their hands running over each other, finding their way under buckskin tunics and exploring parts of each other they always knew where there but denied until now. The warmth of their flesh flowed into each other and thunder grew in their bellies, their lips tasting one another passionately, greedily.

     Euticus tasted salt on Sparrow's face. He stopped and found her crying again, a different breed of tears.

     "Why are you stopping?" she asked, her hair splayed out around her head, its color deepened by the light of the fire. Her eyes glistened, and something in them that he had never seen before, something both good and bad, beckoned to him. If he let it take him, he could not turn back.

     "I can't do this," he said, though the rest of him shouted otherwise. Sparrow reached up and ran her palm over his face, then down, grazing over his chest and coming to rest between his legs. He felt something threaten, a sharp spasm, his resolve nearly destroyed.

     "I won't leave Crow, but I want you before I lose the chance. Please, Euticus. Love me..."

     "Crow will know when..."

     "No, he won't. We've already been together."

     Euticus tried to speak, but his lips only trembled.

     "Save me again, Euticus," she whispered. "Save us both."

     His body demanded her touch, and had he not loved her so he might have given in...
     "Take them!" cried a voice too familiar to both of their ears, and arms much stronger than his own pulled Euticus away from Sparrow and slammed him into the dirt. Sparrow screamed and grabbed a piece of wood from the fire. She prepared to hurl the torch at their attackers when someone grabbed her wrist from behind. The torch fell and she turned to face the village Eagle's cold eyes. Crow stood behind him, his lowered face lit grimly by the light cast up from the fallen torch.

     "Crow...oh no..."

     "What should we do, Eagle?" One of the men holding Euticus said. "Death?"

     "No!" Sparrow screamed and tried to run at them, but the Eagle held her back.

     "That is for First Son Crow to decide," he said. Crow came forward, and Euticus heard one of his captors sneer.

     "H-he will not be killed," Crow said. "Brother will not kill Brother. Take him to the Temple that he wanted so badly to see, and block the entrance. Give him a weeks worth of food and water. That should be enough for him to find the other side."

     The Eagle grunted, affirming Crow's decision to the others with a nod.

     "Crow!" Sparrow said, struggling against the Eagle's hold, which only tightened.

     "Quiet, child. You share his blame. Consider yourself lucky that First Son Crow doesn't do the same to you."

     "If you do this, I'll never forgive you, I swear! The Binding is off!"

     "Then you go with him," the Eagle said.

     "No!" Euticus yelled.

     "Shut up, thief," one of his captors said, striking him.

     "Eue!"

     "Let him speak," Crow said. "And don't strike him again, unless necessary."

     The man sneered again, deferring to the Eagle, who nodded, and the captor eased up.

     "Sparrow," Euticus said, and the Eagle let her go. She ran to Euticus and held him.

     "Eue, I'm sorry..."

     "Listen to me, Sparrow, for once in your life. Don't be stupid. Go with Crow. He's right-"

     "What? No, it can't be like that--"

     He pushed her back so he could look directly into her eyes.

     "Sparrow, don't throw this chance away."

     "But...it's my fault."

     "Yes. But it's mine, too. Go."

     Sparrow looked back at Crow, then Euticus.

     "If you love us, go to Crow," Euticus said. She looked slowly between them, then down at her shaking hands. He wanted to reach out to her, tell her not to worry, but he could not, not because of the men holding him back, but because it would have been a lie.

     Sparrow looked at him, her eyes wide and questioning everything that had happened. For a brief moment Euticus thought she might actually choose him, and the selfish part of him wanted her to. If she really loved him, she would ignore what he'd said, be willing to face exile standing by his side.

     She backed away, and went to Crow.

     Crow stepped before Euticus, who made no move to break free, and placed a hand on Euticus' forehead. He whispered, "This is what you want, isn't it? A way out, guilt free? Just, free. Simple. Hm...and they call me a coward.

     "Go, Euticus. Live well, and know I will always consider you a brother." He removed his hand and spoke to the men. "Take him now, and do exactly what I said."

      The men dragged Euticus away.

     "Sparrow...." Crow began.

     "Do not speak to me," she said, walking away. Crow followed close behind her. The last man watched them go, and then caught up to the others.

     "Chicken heart and the Eagle are gone," he said.

    "Good," said another. "Let's give this double blooded bastard what he deserves."

     Euticus thrashed against them, pushing one of the men away but unable to do much before the other man kicked him between the legs. Nauseating pain shot up through his stomach and he crumpled to the ground. The blows came in a storm of dust. It caught in his nose and mouth, which hung soundlessly open and streamed dirt thickened saliva. Tears squirted out of his eyes, making mud on his face. The beating went forever, on and on until after the world slipped away. He did not cry out.

     He wanted this, after all.