My Friend, My Hero
Chapter One
Stanford raised one hand, then the other, to wipe the beads of nervous perspiration from his forehead. The color drained from his face, and he stepped back, staring at Mr. Wayland. As he did so, his foot slipped on a loose rock. He fell on his back with a thud at the edge of the cliff and began to slide.
Mr. Wayland jumped instinctively and dropped to his belly, grasping at Stanford’s flailing arms. Their arms barely interlocked as Stanford slid off the ledge. Stanford dangled from Mr. Wayland’s arm, twisting and thrashing in an attempt to pivot his body around to grasp the edge of the cliff.
Mr. Wayland’s face was scarlet, and he panted as he strained to support Stanford’s entire weight over certain death.
“Don’t let go,” Stanford said, gasping for air between words.
A vile smile crossed Mr. Wayland’s lips, revealing his cracked and tobacco-stained teeth. He released his clasp and Stanford’s arm slipped slowly out of Mr. Wayland’s relaxed grasp. He watched with immense pleasure as Stanford’s writhing body plummeted ever downward and found great satisfaction in his cries of terror which echoed repeatedly against the surrounding cliffs. Mr. Wayland didn’t stand up until he spitefully witnessed Stanford’s body thud far below on the unforgiving jagged rock. There was lifeless silence.
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