Catch-22: forty-three. ERIK
They got Erik. They didn’t get him in the way that he is now dead or in the hospital, they got him the way that he was captured and questioned. Erik looked like one of those rosy-cheeked boys you’d see in a technicolor family TV show and was a hell of a talker, if we let that boy have at us with a story or a social debate, we were busy for hours.
“Tell me where your battalion is headed next!” a large man with an accent screamed at Erik, punching him in the stomach, as he sat tied to a chair.
“Thanks,” he said coughing once, “But my back’s where most of the tension is, I have a lot of built up stress you see, if you could just– ” the large foreign man punched him in his lower back. “Perfect, right there! Thank you!” Erik screamed with a forced grin, slumping back into his chair.
“Tell me,”
“No,” he said calmly.
“Tell me!”
“Okay, they’re headed over to old fort Kang,”
“You don’t seem to get how this works, do you. You only give up the information once I’ve broken you, not just because you feel like telling me.”
“Oh, then would you like to try again?”
“Sure.”
