In the dead-end alley, the men continued beating Zaber, but he simply stared at the stars. Their blows seemed not to reach his consciousness; his heart ached in its own way, yet nothing distracted his attention.
The men stopped, satisfied with their work.
The first one scratched his head and laughed.
"I'm done," he said, spitting on Zaber's clothes before turning and walking away.
The second followed, a wide smile on his face as he glanced back. They laughed proudly at each other, gradually moving farther away.
A sharp voice rang out from behind.
"You have undone your own deed!"
The men quickly turned; their faces grew serious.
Zaber slowly rose, brushing off his clothes.
"Spitting was unnecessary," he said in a low, cold tone.
The first stepped forward, shouting as if facing a fool who hadn't had enough beating, and approached with a clenched fist.
