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sort of shit.  There was a fair amount of cheering as he stepped off the makeshift stage that they had set up.  This was followed by absolute silence as The Disciple stalked up.  The fear that everybody felt of this man was so thick in the air that I doubt I could have cut it, had I brought along my sword.
     
    He turned towards the crowd and my breath caught in my throat.
     
    I knew this man.
     
    evening
    The shock of seeing The Disciple wore off quickly enough, once he started his spiel.  He spoke of me, at least as far as an enemy of the followers, about how many of his men I had cut down with my blade.  I remember shooting a few of them, at least.  I also remember wanting to run up to that stage and tear out this man's throat with my teeth, if need be.  He spoke of The School, and how as a group they were pitiful and disorganised.  He went on further to say that when his 'allies from the north' arrive then the attack can commence.  After they bury The Mech-Techs, of course.
     
    He then ordered his men to bow their heads in prayer.  I pretended to do so, while I got a good look at him.  It was indeed the man I remember, someone I grew up with, in fact.  He was missing an eye now, the socket bare and angry and red, and half of his hair had been burned off along with half the flesh from his head.  The skin had healed around bare bone at the temple on the left side.  The only other difference was that his right arm was now missing below the elbow.
     
    Once The Disciple was done, his men dispersed, myself amongst them.  I met up with Redbeard easily enough, the brute being unmistakable even among hundreds of other brutes, but The Soldier was nowhere evident.  We decided to edge closer to the hole through which we had entered and hope to hell that he joined up with us.  He was already there and waiting for us, swinging a key on one finger while idly whistling a tune from an old army recruitment advertisement.
     
    “Managed to swipe this from one of The Disciples lieutenants.  I suggest we get to what we came here for, and get it done now.  Otherwise there might be a line for the women.  That might make our job a little more difficult.”  The Soldier told us as we approached.  The three of us swiftly ducked out of the warehouse into the grey snowy darkness, heading to the rear of the compound where they kept the women.
     
    The Soldier unlocked and opened the door and we slipped inside as silently as we were able.  The sight that greeted us was appalling.  A line of women, chained to one another with shackles taken from a prison, I assume, wearing only enough clothing to keep them alive in the Cold, provided they huddled together as well.  Several were obviously pregnant, those would have to have been so before all of this happened, but I would assume that most of them would share that condition by now.  Those nearest us cringed slightly at our presence, but did nothing.  Redbeard huddled next to one young woman telling her that we were there to get them all out of there.  She simply shook her head.
     
    The Soldier tried to get through to another one, while I kept watch for any Followers that might decide that now was a good time to get some.  He met with as much success as Redbeard.  Then one of them stood up.
     
    “Kill us,”  She said, “Or at least give us the means to kill ourselves.”  I could see a pair of Followers heading this way from the main building.  They were laughing and punching one another.  I hissed a warning to the others, Redbeard took up a position on the other side of the door.  “Please.  Not one of us wants to live anymore, not with this life, these memories.”  The pair drew closer, one pulling a key from his pocket as they came nearer the door.  “What kind of life would our babies have?  Please! ”  The door opened.  Redbeard grabbed one of them, covering his mouth and nose with one massive hand.  I tapped the other on his shoulder as he turned