"To the death?" Gilbert asked.
"I wouldn't be playing games. Hell, yes."
"What if I get killed?"
"I'll put it in writing. The credits go to whatever person you name, in the event of your death."
Gilbert thought, if I'm dead I won't need the credits, but if I live, if I win, those credits can buy me a new way of life....
Five thousand credits....
"Can I fight back?" Gilbert heard himself asking.
"Does an animal? Of course you can. I'll also put in writing that you're not responsible in the event of my death. What do you say, boy? What do you say?"
The swamp smell was thick on the still, heavy air of night. Insects buzzed and sawed off in the darkness. Mulveen was breathing heavily, impatiently, consumed by the fires of his idea. "Well?"
Gilbert broke the silence by holding the rifle up to the firelight and bolting open the chamber. A fresh clip of ammo was in place.