looking around in a panic. Steve puts the diary away and stands over him, then helps his new recruit up onto his knees by gripping under his arms and lifting him.
Marching his new toy soldier out into the street like a drunkard being escorted from a pub, he spins him around and looks into his eyes. They are glazed over like all the others and Steve clicks his fingers a few times and then slaps his face lightly to get his attention. But gets nothing. Brain dead. His one chance at not being sent off to a certain death gone in that instant.
People these days are built a lot lighter than a few decades ago. A little tap on the head like that and he has a concussion. So fragile. So weak. Was that a diet thing? All the processed food as fuel only