“I can’t do it!” Myron Himmel hung his head. He was still cradling the gun. It was still wrapped in the cloth. It’s weight sickened him. His father would never have condoned this. His father would never had become implicated in crimes and shame. That Myron had been blinded to the truth by grief was hardly an excuse. Bert Himmel wasn’t some Bible thunper, by any stretch, but he had imbued in his children a deep moral upbringing. He would have been ashamed of his son.
“I won’t do it!” Myron brought his eyes up to meet Avery’s. Myron was still weak in his resolve, and a part of him expected some answer from Avery Lysander,
“You’ll do it, all right,” growled Avery. It wasn’t about the battle for him. It was about the aftermath that suited his needs.
“Why me? Why not you?”
Avery didn’t have a proper answer. He stared blankly at the boy, murder rising in his veins. Myron almost wished he had said something, instead the boy found all he needed to know of Avery’s true motivations.
“You little bastard!” Avery slapped Myron hard across the face. “After all I sacrificed for you and your family. I didn’t have to do nothing…”
“And you won’t do nothing now.”
“The hell I won’t.”
“You won’t ‘
“Cause you’re a coward. You need all us around you to hide your crimes. Well I ain’t no more. I’m gonna confess it all, starting with my part.”
“You won’t.”
“And then I’ll beg God and C.W. for forgiveness.”
Avery grabbed for the gun, but Myron’d had enough of all this. Somehow he’d make amends, or failing that, work his whole life to atone. He drew away, despite that Avery was so much stronger for his hate and rage. The cloth fell away and a woman screamed. One of the soldiers saw it and cried to the others. A dozen rifles went up as the young recruits took aim at the crowd.
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