“There isn’t anything you can do to me that I can’t survive,” he had boasted to the brass.
“But there is,” they had replied. “You can rejoin our ranks, or you can watch your entire platoon die. Moreno, Kreger, Johnson, Whitman. We will execute them all. Your wife and child? We will tie them to posts, and leave them for raiders. That soldier from the East? We will send him back to his commanding officers in a matchbox. Your call, Gannon.”
He had made his call, and loathed the Enclave ever since. He rejoiced when, a scant two years later, a tribal from Arroyo blew Navarro to hell. He never set out to search for them, instead drifting through the wastes as a man without a purpose. He didn’t think they would ever forgive him for his deception.
“’And she said unto him, How canst thou say, I love thee, when thine heart is not with me? Thou hast mocked me these three times, and hast not told me wherein thy great strength lieth.’”
“That’s enough for now,” Israel says, a sick feeling in his stomach. “I’m feeling tired.” James nods, shutting his book. “Short version. How does it end?”
“Samson, vexed to death by Deliliah’s questioning, tells her the secret of his strength.”
“What is it?”
“His hair. He keeps it long, and God gives him strength.”
“What happens afterwards?” Israel asks, stifling a yawn. James pulls the blanket up around his narrow, withered shoulders.
“She cuts his hair, robbing him of his strength, and delivers him to his enemies,” James answers smoothly, tucking the blanket around Israel. His hands warm his freezing flesh, and he is sad to feel them leave his skin.
“What an awful story,” Israel murmurs, his eyes drifting close. “Is the whole book like that?” James chuckles, and Israel can see his youthful face smiling in his memories.
Keep Your Composure 14a/?
“But there is,” they had replied. “You can rejoin our ranks, or you can watch your entire platoon die. Moreno, Kreger, Johnson, Whitman. We will execute them all. Your wife and child? We will tie them to posts, and leave them for raiders. That soldier from the East? We will send him back to his commanding officers in a matchbox. Your call, Gannon.”
He had made his call, and loathed the Enclave ever since. He rejoiced when, a scant two years later, a tribal from Arroyo blew Navarro to hell. He never set out to search for them, instead drifting through the wastes as a man without a purpose. He didn’t think they would ever forgive him for his deception.
“’And she said unto him, How canst thou say, I love thee, when thine heart is not with me? Thou hast mocked me these three times, and hast not told me wherein thy great strength lieth.’”
“That’s enough for now,” Israel says, a sick feeling in his stomach. “I’m feeling tired.” James nods, shutting his book. “Short version. How does it end?”
“Samson, vexed to death by Deliliah’s questioning, tells her the secret of his strength.”
“What is it?”
“His hair. He keeps it long, and God gives him strength.”
“What happens afterwards?” Israel asks, stifling a yawn. James pulls the blanket up around his narrow, withered shoulders.
“She cuts his hair, robbing him of his strength, and delivers him to his enemies,” James answers smoothly, tucking the blanket around Israel. His hands warm his freezing flesh, and he is sad to feel them leave his skin.
“What an awful story,” Israel murmurs, his eyes drifting close. “Is the whole book like that?” James chuckles, and Israel can see his youthful face smiling in his memories.
“Only half of it.”
“And the other half?”
“I’ll tell you when you wake up.”