nobody wants to talk about it Oh my lord, we need to get to County General right now left side of his shirt

left side of his shirt was painted in a

little guys’ faces. An adrenaline surge could account for a lot, but not what he’d just done. He’d just fought
three guys his own size and tossed them all around like rag dolls. Adrenaline didn’t do that.
A clatter to his left drew Eric’s attention, and he saw Stitch-Guy helping his groggy friend up. They
overturned another table trying to get to their feet, and when they saw Eric looking at them, they ran for it,
stumbling over low chairs in their haste. They snatched up their helmets and herded the dumbstruck little
people back out the broken door and hustled on out into the darkness. Within minutes, they were gone
God-knows-where, and Eric was still standing there unable to move. His stupefied paralysis didn’t break
until Bill came up on his left, breathing hard.
“Man, are you all right?” Bill gasped. He was trembling, and Eric realized the man was staring at a
bloody switchblade knife on the ground at Eric’s feet. “Oh my lord, we need to get to County General
right now.”
“Are you hurt?” Eric asked. His voice sounded strange in his ears. He found it hard to look away from
Something bad’s going on

the broken window. It had to be 20 feet away. “Which one got you?”
“Me?” Bill yelped. “He didn’t stick me!”
Eric had no idea what Bill was talking about until the older man pointed at his midsection. Eric looked
down to see that the left side of his shirt, from just below his last rib to the top of his pants pocket, was
painted in a sloppy crimson arrowhead. Eric blinked, uncomprehending, until he remembered the guy on
his left punching him. The punch hadn’t hurt, but it had felt cold…
“You’re stabbed, man,” Bill said. He looked like he was going to pass out.
Wondering if he was in shock, Eric pulled up his shirttail. Sure enough, a hole big enough for his finger
had been punched through the flannel and the T-shirt under that, and his palm came away bloody. Bill
moaned.
to talk about why you’re here

“Weird,” Eric said. The pain hadn’t kicked in yet. Blood clotted in his curly red body hair, so he took
the white towel from Bill’s shoulder and gingerly scrubbed a layer of blood off. He fully expected more to
flow immediately, but no more did. Instead, what he saw astounded and disturbed him.
“Bill, look at this,” he said. Most of the blood was wiped off now, and they could see only a thin, red nick
on his skin, no deeper than a paper cut. Eric raised an eyebrow, and Bill’s eyes goggled like somebody had
hit him in the stomach. While they watched, the nick thinned even more and finally vanished altogether.
Unable to think of an encore, Eric stood up straight once again and pulled his shirt back down.
“Damn,” he whispered, impressed.
* * *
Bill was useless for conversation after that. Eric tried to ask about Craig and the other two guys, but all
Bill could say was they were crew bosses at the iron mine. The little people worked at the mine too, but they
all worked for the big guys and the big guys’ boss, Mister Jared. They only came around after sundown or
before sunup to eat and rest before heading back to work. No, Bill had never seen the mine himself. No, Bill
had never met Mister Jared, who ran the operation. He only ever met the crew bosses and the little guys.
laughed out loud...what do you want

Bill couldn’t answer much more than that. He looked as upset and rattled as Eric was starting to feel,
and it seemed he wanted nothing more than to clean the place up and for Eric to go as far away as possible.
Still reeling from what he’d done, Eric could only quietly oblige. An hour later, he lay on his hotel bed
dreaming of oak trees with ravens in the branches.
* * *
The next morning, Eric awoke hearing a conversation about wars in the Holy Land. The television was
on and broadcasting the news. He sat up to blearily paw around for the remote and was shocked to find
Sylvester, the desk clerk, sitting in the vinyl chair beside his bed. The lanky fellow clicked the TV off and
smiled at Eric, as if his being there weren’t at all strange.
“Morning!” Sylvester said. “I let myself in.”

Sylvester lifted Sylvester completely off the ground eric lowered his fist Sylvester cringed