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Mr. Danya
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Nate watched Matt as he walked away. He waited for the moment when Matt would stop and turn around, say something, but of course it never came. No answers, no insight, nothing.

Not knowing where else to turn, Nate went back to looking at the sand. He didn't feel much different to how he felt before, he realised. More conscious, as if that fog he’d been adrift in for the past while had gone away at least for now, but he still felt empty. He didn’t know any more about why he was here than he did that morning, and he didn’t feel any better about his inevitable death. The fact that Matt had admitted that he’d be willing to end it didn’t seem to mean much, either.

It should have. Matt was his friend, however short a time that had been, but now he was someone prepared to end his life. If they met again, there was no guarantee Matt wasn’t going to just finish him off without a word, with no second chances.

Still, in spite of how bleak everything seemed, he couldn’t believe that that was the case. If it was going to happen, if Matt really meant to kill him, then he would’ve done it then and there, surely.

Maybe that was naïve. That had been his outlook on this whole thing from the beginning, after all.

He gripped his arms, clenching his eyes. If only he could’ve stayed that way.

((Nate Turner continued in Paths of Glory))
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