What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [116]
“Shhh!” said Liam, turning to look over his shoulder. He turned back a second later and shoved Festus back through the doorway.
“Hey!”
“Shut up.”
They waited and listened to the sound of men walking up the adjacent hallway.
“I think we ought to beat the crap out of him before we take him back,” said one of the men. His name was Danny Ray.
“I don’t think we should do that,” said his friend, whose name was Cletus. “Mr. Cadmon said we’re just supposed to get rid of him.”
“I’m sure he won’t mind if we beat him up a little bit first.”
“They’re coming this way,” said Liam. “Get ready.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out the gun.
“Get ready? What the fuck does that mean?” hissed Festus. Liam waved the gun at Festus to hush him up.
“I don’t know. I mean, you can’t just beat the crap out of Jesus,” said Cletus. “That’d be wrong.”
“I told you already!” said Danny Ray. “He ain’t Jesus.”
“He looks like Jesus.”
“He ain’t! That’s the whole point, doofus. That’s why we’re supposed to get ridda him.” And the soldiers lapsed into silence.
“They’ve stopped,” whispered Liam. He tilted his head and squinted, which accomplished little other than to indicate that he was listening real hard. “Sounded like there are at least three of them. Maybe four.” He stole a peek around the corner, and whipped his head back. “They’re right there.” He pointed over his shoulder, through the wall, toward a spot just a few feet away.
“They just stopped? What’s – what are they doing?” asked Festus.
Liam shrugged.
“I don’t know. It just don’t seem right somehow,” said Cletus.
“Hey,” said a third man, whose name was Buford. “How do you know that, when he said, ‘Get rid of him,’ he didn’t mean ‘Rub him out’?”
“What the hell?” asked Danny Ray. “Are you queer?”
“What?”
“I ain’t rubbin’ nobody.”
“No!” Buford smacked Danny Ray.
“We should jus’ crucify him,” said an extra large cowboy who’d been standing off to the side. He let the last part of the word ‘crucify’ linger until it was about four syllables long. His name was Bubba, and pretty much everybody was afraid of him. Rightly so, because he was giant, and actually had guns in holsters on his belt. He leaned up against a wall, a sneer on his face.
“Okay, let’s go,” said Liam.
“What?” asked Festus.
“We’ll have the element of surprise on our side.”
“Element of surprise? Fuck the element of surprise! I prefer the element of continuing to be hidden.”
Liam stepped out into the hall, gun in hand. Festus stayed put until Liam glanced back and gave him a nasty look.
“Holy shit,” said Cletus. “It’s Jesus.”
“Hi, guys,” said Liam.
“Are you Jesus’ friend?” asked Cletus.
“Um, yes,” said Liam. “As a matter of fact, I am. And you guys need to stand aside now so that we can leave.”
“What?” asked Cletus.
Liam smacked his Messianic friend. “Uh, yes!” coughed Festus. “Verily, I say unto thee, get the hell out of the way!” He blessed them each with little cross gestures.
“Well,” said Cletus, backing up, “I guess we oughta—”
“No, you idjit,” said Danny Ray. “He’s an imposter. We’re supposed to kick his ass.”
“Are you sure?” asked Cletus. “I mean, he really looks like Jesus. Maybe he’s reincarnated Jesus.”
“That’s not how it works, dumbass,” said Buford.
Cletus ignored his critics. “Mr. Jesus, do you feel like you can perform a miracle?” He looked around for miracle-performing opportunities. “Is there a pond nearby? Somebody get this man some water.”
“Okay…” said Liam. “Let’s go.” He started to push his way past the militia men.
“Yeah,” said Festus, “let’s get away from these ass hats.”
And just like that, Cletus was no longer on their side. “Did Jesus just call us... ass hats?”
“That’s what I heard,” said Danny Ray. “And I don’t like bein’ called an ass… hat.” There were several grunts confirming that this sentiment was shared by the rest of the men.
“Look, guys,” said Liam. “We—”
Nobody heard whatever it was that Liam said next, because at that moment, Bubba stepped forward, tore the gun out of Liam’s hand, and buried his fist in Liam’s gut. Liam doubled