The Long Walk

it?
    “GARRATY!” the crowd screamed deliriously. “GARRATY, GARRATY, GARRATY!”
    Was it Scramm? Gribble? Davidson?
    A hand on his shoulder. Garraty shook it off impatiently. The dark figure beckoned, beckoned in the rain, beckoned for him to come and walk, to come and play the game. And it was time to get started. There was still so far to walk.
    Eyes blind, supplicating hands held out before him as if for alms, Garraty walked toward the dark figure.
    And when the hand touched his shoulder again, he somehow found the strength to run.