“How’s the leg?” she asked.
Milo stopped walking. “Good,” he answered. “It was just a graze, like I said.”
He looked normal. Normal eyes, normal mouth, normal skin. No horns. He was lying, though, and, by the way he was looking at her, he was daring her to call him on it. But she didn’t. He was entitled to his secrets. He’d earned that much from her.
She turned to get back into the car, and actually took a step back in surprise. “Jesus.”
The Charger’s hood was unblemished. Its dents were gone. No bullet holes and no scratches. It gleamed in the morning sun, not even a trace of dust on its glorious blackness.
“Turns out the damage wasn’t that bad,” said Milo.
Amber grunted as Glen sat up in the back and yawned. Milo got in, slid the key into the ignition and twisted.
The Charger woke immediately with a deep and healthy rumble.
It took half an hour, but they found their way back to the road they’d been on, and fifteen minutes after that they crested a dusty hill, and stopped. Below them stood a ramshackle house that looked like it had been built in stages by very different builders who only had a crooked eye in common. Parked outside was a badly damaged pickup truck.
“That’s them!” Glen said needlessly.
Milo shared a look with Amber, and inched the Charger forward. He put it in neutral and turned off the engine. They rolled down the gentle hill, accompanied only by the crunch of wheels on dirt. They got to the bottom and Milo steered them behind the pickup, and stopped.
He got out with his gun in his hand, and as he attached his holster to his belt Amber and Glen climbed out after him. Amber kept low, remembering the sound of the machine gun from last night. Glen kept even lower.
They moved quickly but quietly to the house. Milo peered through the window for a few moments. Satisfied, he went to the door and got ready to kick. Something in his face changed, though, and instead he leaned forward, tried the handle. It turned, and the door opened, and he shrugged. Straightening, he holstered his gun and walked in, Amber and Glen at his heels.
The living room was barely habitable. An old TV sat huddled on a crate, cornered by a dirty couch and a filthy armchair. They walked straight through to the kitchen, where two men sat eating cereal. Ralphie and Ossie, presumably. The brothers looked at them, frowning, like their arrival just didn’t compute. The spoon in the bigger one’s hand hovered halfway to his waiting mouth. He was a tall, stout man, his curly hair cut tight, fully dressed in jeans and an oil-stained T-shirt. The smaller one had his arm jammed inside the cereal box. He had a beard and a stupid Mohawk, and he only wore an old pair of boxers.
“Boys,” said Milo, nodding at them.
The smaller man looked at all of them, one at a time. At no stage did comprehension dawn on his overfed face.
“You’re the people from last night,” said the bigger guy.
“Yes, we are,” said Milo. “You’re Ralphie, am I right? We were told you were the smart one.” He turned to the smaller man, the one still wearing the look of dumb confusion. “And that makes you Ossie. So which one of you was in the pickup, and which one of you had the gun?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Ralphie, putting his spoon back in the bowl.
“That pickup outside says otherwise.”
“That ain’t ours. You can’t prove nothing.”
“Then it’s a good thing we’re not law enforcement, isn’t it? Want to know what I think? I think you had the gun and the Molotov. I think Ossie here is the driver of the family. Would I be right, Ossie?”
Ossie glared at his brother. “Told you we should’ve finished them off.”
“I thought they were dead,” Ralphie replied.
“Who tipped you off?” Milo asked. “It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other, but I’m sure Abigail would like to know who betrayed her.”
“Abigail is the Devil,” said Ossie.
“She looks like a little girl.”
“Looks are deceiving!” Ossie said, standing.
Milo’s hand went to rest on the butt of his gun. “I’m going to have to ask you to sit back down, Ossie.”
“She looks like a little girl, but she ain’t!” Ossie crowed. “She’s the Devil and we’re the only ones brave enough to tell it like it is!”
“Be brave while seated, what do you say?”
“You don’t scare me. I have seen with my own eyes the true face of evil, and it is that little girl. ‘And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which … which …’” Ossie looked at Ralphie for help.
“Uh,” said Ralphie, “‘which … deceiveth’.”
“‘Which deceiveth the whole world!’” said Ossie. “‘He was cast … he was …’”
He looked to Ralphie, who frowned and looked down, trying to remember.
Milo sighed. “‘He was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him’. You fellas need to brush up on your Bible studies. Besides which, you used to work right alongside Abigail, did you not?”
Ralphie narrowed his eyes. “We were wayward, yes. But we were shown the true path.”
“By the old man, right? Lautaro Soto? That the true path you’re talking about? The one that allowed you to continue dealing drugs and killing people for money?”
Ralphie had nothing to say to that, so Ossie answered for him.
“She’s still the Devil.”
“Be that as it may, we came here to deliver something to Ralphie and, once that’s done, we’re going to drive away and hopefully never cross paths with you again. That sound good to you?”
The brothers shared a look of suspicion. “What’ve you got?” asked Ralphie.
Glen cleared his throat, and stepped forward. “I’m the one who has it, actually. The old man, he gave it to me, and now I suppose I’m returning it to you.” He held up his hand and they saw the Deathmark.
Ralphie jumped to his feet.
“I’m really not happy with the number of people standing up right now,” said Milo.
Ralphie jabbed a finger at Glen. “That is for her! You deliver that to Abigail! How did you even get that? Lautaro was supposed to—”
“Lautaro is dead,” said Amber. “We get that you were trying to kill someone you think is evil. I believe you when you say she is. But you two are every bit as bad.”
Ossie shook his head. “We’ll kill you dead, but we won’t damn your immortal soul.”
“Dead’s dead,” said Milo. “Ralphie, you’re going to stand there and let Glen lay his hand on you.”
“You ain’t touching my brother,” Ossie said through gritted teeth.
Glen tried a smile. “Listen, I really don’t want to hurt anyone, and this really isn’t personal, but if I don’t pass it on to you, Ralphie, it’ll kill me.”
“So die,” said Ralphie.
“Well now, that’s not really fair, is it? I don’t have anything to do with any of this. So let’s all be grown-ups here and do what has to be done,” Glen said, stepping towards Ralphie.
What happened next happened