"Son of a-!" said Justin.
"You're dead," said Zechariah.
"I'm not that lucky," Justin managed from his knees. "If this is meant to be a lesson, I am learning nothing!"
"Clearly," said Zechariah.
Zechariah stepped forward to kick him, and Justin brought his hands up out of reflex. He caught the old man's boot before it reached his chest, but it still knocked him backward. The stick then rapped him on the neck, sending stars spinning through his vision.
"You trying to kill me?" Justin shouted.
"I did kill you," said Zechariah. "A number of times."
Zechariah smacked Justin's knuckles. In a rage, Justin charged, swinging his fist at the old man. Zechariah caught the attack, spun him around as if he were a dancer, and held him with the mock sword against his neck, clamping his windpipe shut.
"Dead again," said Zechariah, and he dropped Justin to the ground.