What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [123]
“Ow!” Festus rubbed his face.
Keeping the upper part of his body rigid and regarding the soldiers out of the corner of his eyes, Raju scooted surreptitiously over to Lola. “Hey,” he whispered, “where’s my gun?”
Lola shooed him away.
“My name really is Fes—” But before he could finish, Liam had torn Cadmon’s hand away and put the man in a headlock. He snatched one of the soldiers’ guns, shoved Cadmon toward the wall, and pointed the weapon at Whitford’s face.
“Liam!” said Lola.
“Holy shit!” said Festus.
“Cool,” said Raju.
“Hi, Dick,” said Liam. Cadmon mumbled something indecipherable and vowel-intensive.
“Shoot this man,” said Dick Whitford, sliding behind one of his soldiers.
Liam looked directly at the soldiers. The one standing in front raised his gun to shoot, but then seemed to forget what he was doing. He dropped the gun and ran screaming from the room. He was, no doubt, far more concerned with the fact that his whole head had just lit on fire. It was either that, or the fact that he’d suddenly remembered he had somewhere important to be. But that seems, on balance, to be the weaker of the two possible explanations, because it really doesn’t take into account the man’s cranial conflagration.
“The rest of you,” said Liam, “will put your guns down. Right now.”
The soldiers glanced at one another. “Okay,” said one. Another nodded, and they leaned over to set down their guns.
“Wow,” said Lola.
“Dude,” said Raju.
“Now,” said Liam, “I want each of you—”
Whitford looked at his soldiers, his eyes wide open and incredulous, but the uniformed men no longer seemed to be particularly inclined to do anything even remotely soldiery, let alone make use of their firearms against Liam or his compatriots. In fact, they seemed to be pretty pleased with the state of the world in general. They smiled.
“—to lay down on the floor, face down,” continued Liam.
“Fine!” said Whitford. He lurched forward, shoving a soldier aside, which wasn’t really necessary because the soldier wasn’t actually in his way. In fact, it was just kind of mean, but that’s just how Whitford rolled. “I’ll do it myself,” he said, scooping up one of the soldiers’ guns with surprising dexterity and far less wheezing than might be expected of a man of his girth. He raised the gun and stopped, distracted by the sound of an explosion.
A distinguished looking gentleman in a pinstriped suit came around the corner, followed by several old men in engineer’s coveralls. He had, in his hand, a shotgun. It was on fire.
“Please allow me to introduce myself,” said the Devil.
Chapter 48. Whitford Flambé with Lemon
Satan stood, silhouetted in the light from the far end of the broad hallway. He wore a dark, pin-striped suit that, on anyone else, would have clashed horribly with his flaming shotgun, but he made it work. Behind him two grizzled, slightly dispirited-looking old men stood hunched over in their red coveralls and sighed in the weary, resigned way that old men sometimes do.
“I,” Satan began, but then he stopped. He turned and ran his eyes up and down the length of Lola’s figure, pausing at the curvier parts. “Hello,” he said, drawing out the ‘o’ as he reached for her hand.
Lola regarded the Devil with a wary eye, and attempted to pull her hand back. The Devil’s dainty grip, however, was surprisingly strong. “Hi,” she said, in as uninviting a manner as it is possible to speak a greeting. The word thudded to the ground with a splat, like a brick tossed into a mud pit.
The Devil posed – his head held high, his shoulders back, and one foot forward – in the foppish, prancy manner of a fencer who preens and struts before dispatching his opponent with ruthless – yet artful – efficiency. “It is a pleasure, madam, to make your acquaintance.” He bowed with a flourish, swooshing the flaming shotgun backward in an elegant arc as he bent forward to kiss her hand. There he lingered for a moment, breathing in as if he were trying to inhale her fingers.
“I’m not sure you actually made my acquaintance,” said Lola, finally wrenching her hand free. She wiped