I woke up. Didn’t know I’d fallen asleep. Hadn’t thought that I could in this place. There were names tagged on the walls, Azeroth and Beelzebub. I didn’t know how I knew ‘em, but I knew they were bad. For a second, I didn’t know where I was, but then I saw old Hank sittin’ on the floor with his Justin Case. I didn’t watch him. He could have his secrets the same as me. Had I told him about the weapons stashed up at Indian Cave? Did I tell him about plannin’ to kill Karch, or about the kids I rounded up to do the killin’ for me? No. But I guessed I should. I didn’t wanna lie to him. From the smell of the smoke, the fire outside was either closer or bigger. Once we were away I would tell him. Once we were safe. Or was I just tellin’ myself that?
I glanced over at him just in time to see three men in camo slipping in through the chapel’s open door. They were movin’ quick and quiet, watchin’ their backs so much they didn’t see us till they were right on us and I had my pistol leveled between the point man’s eyes. The other two raised their rifles but Hank spoke up:
“You boys with the Plonks?”
“Fuck you,” one of them said.
“We don’t call ourselves that,” said another.
“You got a woman in your camp named Dr. Pamela Schrader?”
The three men looked at each other. The point man let the barrel of his rifle dip and said, “Now’s not the best time for paying a visit, old man.”
Hank stood up. “Tell her Dr. Henry Wigginton is here to see her.” He tucked the metal box, the Justin Case, under one arm. “Tell her I have something she’s gonna need.”
