Chapter 2

Foreman knew he was getting closer. The closer he came to his one link with sanity, the easier it was to hold himself back, to keep himself from simply crushing everything around him.

She was coming to him, he was sure of it.

"Wait patiently." he told himself "It will take her a few days to arrive."

He looked at the clock on the tavern wall. He didn't drink, but it seemed as good a place to wait as any. "Patience was never your strong suit. Will she mind if you talk to yourself? You've done it for so long. You're not sure you can help it."

He stopped. People might see him whispering to himself. If there was anything he remembered from basic training, it was "don't stand out". Already, he was cleaner than the other patrons of this establishment, although similarly dressed. He looked at some of the other patrons, and reflected on the amount of dirt that showed on their skin.

Soon, his own skin looked much the same. He kept his more athletic look though, as opposed to the veritable bears that surrounded him. He didn't want to look like an easy target, but he wanted the people that counted to underestimate him. He could best hurt the ones that didn't expect it.

He heard a slap, and then a yelp. He turned his head, and in an instant, he analyzed the situation.

At a table of four drunkards, one of them men had gotten a little too friendly with the barmaid. She had slapped his hand in return, and gotten pushed to the ground for her trouble.

Now all four men towered over her. The one who had slapped her grinned nastily. "Well now, whaddaya say we give this fine whore what she's been looking for?"

The barmaid stared back in horror.

The bartender stepped out holding his hands up, trying to pacify the men. "Now fellas, this here may be a different establishment than ya'll are used to. We don't abide no whorin' here."

The offender, who was obviously the leader of the pack didn't even look at him. "This here whore says different, dontcha?"

Foreman was mildly surprised. He had hea