What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [50]
“Are you the nitwits who’ve caused this disaster?” said the Prince of Darkness, pointing back toward the traffic jam.
The soldiers looked at one another and then at Russell. Corporal Russell was a big man. He’d been captain or quarterback or some other really badass thing in high school, and he wasn’t about to take shit from this effete (though that’s not the word he would have used) jerk off in the pinstriped suit.
“Get back in your car, and go back to the end of the line,” he said. His men sneered and snickered. They stopped though, and Corporal Russell let out a little yelp as Satan stepped forward, grabbing him by the collar.
“I will do no such thing,” said Satan. He said it simply, the calmness in his voice standing in stark contrast to his aggressive posture. Then he shook Corporal Russell, hard. And the man simply disappeared, leaving Satan holding a rather roomy uniform. A little mouse squeaked, and Satan let the uniform fall on top of him.
None of the men under Russell’s command had ever seen anything quite like that, and they were all, to put it mildly, a little shocked. None of them spoke a word, which was probably prudent given that the guy who’d just turned their boss into a rodent was still there among them. After a couple of seconds of this prudent silence, the little brown mouse climbed out of the Corporal’s discarded clothing. He squeaked at Satan. The Devil stepped forward, and, without even so much as a glance downward, crushed the rodent under his shoe.
Satan smiled congenially. “Now,” he said, pointing to the Humvee that had been moved to block the shoulder. “Who would like to move that large vehicle out of the way?”
Chapter 18. Festus Is an Idiot Who Calls Too Early in the Morning
For the second time that night, the phone rang. But this time Liam sat up immediately, his mind alert and duck free. He grabbed the receiver. “What?” he barked.
“Dude!” said Festus, his feelings hurt.
Liam looked out the window. It wasn’t fully dark out anymore. The sky had that pale and pinkish hue it gets as the sun is just coming up. Regardless, it was clearly way too early for Festus to be acting so peniscuous. Or to be calling at all, for that matter. Liam glanced at the shattered remains of his clock on the floor. “What time is it, Festus?”
“It is 6:25 in the morning, and—” Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Why,” said Liam, pausing to calm himself, “are you calling me at 6:25 in the morning?”
“Well, I need help,” said Festus. The line stayed silent for a moment. Festus could hear Liam breathing deep, slow breaths.
“What kind of help could you possibly need that requires you to call me in the middle of the night?” He asked the question casually, as if he were just throwing it out there. More thunder rumbled, and it occurred to Liam that he hadn’t actually seen any clouds in the sky when he’d peeked out the window. He pushed back the shades for another look, and there it was – a big, mashed-potato-looking stack of clouds, rolling in from the west.
“Well, it’s not the middle of the night.” Both immediately regarded this statement as something of a misstep, but Festus chose to plow on anyway. “I’m in jail,” he said.
“Again.” More thunder.
“Yes, that’s correct. Again.”
For the second time that night, Liam was tempted to smash his phone. He was definitely going to move the damned thing out of his bedroom. “Festus…”
Festus could hear Liam breathing again. “It’s totally not my fault this time.”
“What? Did somebody trip you and you accidentally fell into jail?”
Festus was aware that Liam had a temper, but things had to get pretty crazy for him to lose his cool. This kind of bitchiness was unprecedented and totally unlike Liam. It was, after all, only jail. “Dude,” he asked, “I’m sorry to be calling so early, but I’m in jail, and I just spent the night cuddling with the biggest Mexican guy I’ve ever seen.