When You Were Young

A whistle stopped the dog's advance. It backed away a few steps, resting on its haunches at the entrance to a circular chamber. Pryde appeared next to the animal, scratching it behind the ears. "He's a quick learner," Pryde said.

"Where am I? Where's Prudence?"

"The reverend is dealing with Fatty."

"What does he want with us?"

"You? He doesn't want anything with you." Pryde drew the knife from his belt and started towards Wendell. Again Wendell covered his face and waited for the end. The tip of the knife ran along his left arm, leaving a ragged trail of blood. Then Pryde drew the knife away and said, "He has a soft spot for Fatty. That's the only reason I'm not going to finish you."

Pryde seized Wendell by the hair, lifting him into the air. Wendell clawed at him, trying to break his grasp, but couldn't get free. Pryde held the knife at Wendell's eyes, slowly lowering it along Wendell's squirming body. With a flourish he plunged the knife into Wendell's right thigh. Wendell screamed as the blade tore through him, coming out the other side. He screamed again as Pryde ripped the knife free and then threw him across the chamber to land in a heap on the floor.

Wendell couldn't stand up. He crawled away from Pryde, a streak of blood left in his wake. He curled up into a corner, his world growing dim. His body shook and his breathing became shallow. I've failed, he thought. He'd been given a second chance to undo Reverend Crane's evil and to save the woman he loved, but he'd squandered it. Now he could only wait for his end to come.

Three drops of liquid touched his injured leg. A few moments later, Wendell's pain evaporated, as did any sign of his wound. Pryde stuffed a flask back into his belt. "No, you're not going to die. Not yet. After the rev has his fun with Fatty, then you and I can settle up."

Wendell saw an opportunity in Pryde's words. "Why are you taking orders from Reverend Crane? He needs your strength more than you need anything from him. Why not kill him and take all this for yourself?"

"The reverend saved me from prison. I owe him my life. I wouldn't expect a rat like you to understand."

"But you can't believe all that stuff he says about The Way and creating God's kingdom on earth. It's nonsense."

"The rev can preach whatever he likes. It don't mean anything to me." Pryde held up his knife, stroking the twenty hash marks etched on the blade. "Soon enough I'm going to add a whole mess of savages to these. And then a few snooty elders. And then you and Fatty. I ought to get double for her."