Sierra Tango Yankee X-Ray

“Killing those people–“

“Orders!” he shrieked, “They made me do it! I was lied to! I don’t deserve to suffer like this!” He threw back his head and screamed at the uncaring sky, before turning his tearful eyes on the inky black water.

“Wait!” Rendell cried, guessing what the Russian intended. “Don’t do it let’s talk this through there’s still time to–“

But the distraught man was beyond hearing. With a strangled scream of despair he leapt from the boat into the dark lake, thrashing wildly for shore. His half-mad screams became a wail of desperate horror as things emerged silently from the depths to claim him. In moments he was gone, pulled inexorably down by grasping hands Rendell could barely see, the half-glimpsed figures fading back into the oily darkness with their prize. A grinning wraith, straggles of hair still hanging from its skull-like head, turned to regard Rendell with black, ghoulish eyes before it slipped silently below the surface. Those empty eyes seemed to him expectant, patient, calm with the knowledge that eventually he too would throw himself to the waiting dead.

For the river was wide, and eternity long.

 





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