She entered and approached the bunk. She took a few of his things before she scanned the area. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. And I want you for myself—for my wife. If the creator drew a hero anything like himself, she would accept it as a sign that he did care a little. She felt her forehead repeatedly break out in a light sweat. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. He saw the tragedy on the boy's face; but he was merciless.
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