Roland wanted to argue. But one look at Manny’s eyes made it clear that arguing wouldn’t do any good. So instead he stood there, next to Manny, and kept his hand on the boy’s shoulder until the terrible thing was done. It was as ghastly as these things always were. Most of the crowd cheered every snapped neck, every jerk of a dying soldier’s legs.

Shockwaves of memory wracked Roland’s mind at the sight. He felt warm spring air blow across his cold chest. He saw a small sea of familiar strangers, men and women he’d known once upon a bloodier day. He felt a big gun kick in his hands, he felt a warm splash of blood across his chest and face, he heard the heavy final thump of a tiny body hitting the ground. He saw Topaz. She looked ill. He saw Skullfucker Mike with a hand on her shoulder. He heard Jim’s voice.

“Make sure the cameras catch this next one,” Jim cried. “We’ve got an ­honest-to-god Cheney with us today!”

Back in the present, Roland watched as Manny’s friend’s turn came around. Manny swallowed. His face went pale. Tears streamed down the boy’s face and Roland felt a sudden, peculiar urge to bury him in a hug. He did not do that, though. Roland just stood still with a firm hand on Manny’s shoulder while they tightened the noose around Major Peron’s neck and dropped him down to hang until he was dead, dead, dead.

Roland was proud of how straight Manny stood, how the boy held back from sobbing and how, once the sad spectacle was over, Manny turned back around and headed toward the Christian girl, Sasha. She still stood where they’d left her. Roland could tell she’d been crying too, although she’d taken some pains to disguise it. She was hard to get a read on, that one. She struck him as one of the faithful, but she didn’t strike him as a nut. Maybe she’d just gotten suckered into this awful place. Roland could certainly understand that. He was pretty sure he’d been suckered into dumber things.

“Praise God,” she said, with hesitation.

“Praise God,” Manny responded. Roland didn’t say much. She gave him a look, but not an angry one.

“That was…” she locked eyes with Manny. Roland was pretty sure she’d blocked the rest of the world out. She must’ve seen the signs of his tears too. She coughed a little and continued, “That was awful. I know it’s necessary, but I’ll never stop hating that.”

“It’s a good thing to hate,” Manny said. And then, “Look, we have to get back to base. Curfew’s coming up soon. But if you’re looking to hide from those, uh, undesirables tomorrow, I’ll be waiting outside the cafe.”