“What?” says Bill.
“The woman is the one outside doing all the work. And seeing her with Quay a couple of times, I think they’re an item.”
“So, we snatch the filly.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“How do we do it?” says Candy.
“We use the Unimog to ambush the SUV. Grab Miss America, and get Quay to come to us.”
“Which is all a fine plan, unless there are warrior angels about.”
“In which case we’re fucked. Worse, we won’t know if there are angels until we start the ambush because sometimes they ride in the SUV with her.”
“Well,
this is all depressing,” says Candy.
She rests an elbow on the bar.
“I agree with Candy,” says Bill. “You folks are alive. The worst that can happen to you is you get killed and end up right back here in the Devil’s shitter with me. On the other hand, I’m already a spirit. If I should be cut down . . .”
“It’s Tartarus.”
“What’s that?” Candy says.
I look at Bill.
“It’s the Hell below Hell. Hell for the double damned.”
“And Jim might end up there?”
“Only if he comes with us.”
“I’m coming with you. That’s not a point of discussion.”
“But you wouldn’t have to do the heavy fighting, like in the house. You can stay at a safe distance and be our sniper. Take out who you can.”
Bill leans back on the shelves behind the bar.
“I never shirked from a fight back home and I’m not about to start here. I’ll not be sitting in the trees like a jaybird.”
“Do we have anything going for us?” says Candy.
Bill looks at me.
“Not much. We don’t have enough information or enough people. But we really don’t have a choice.”
Bill lays out the shot glasses.
“We may not have a choice, but we can have a drink. I’ll get the bottle.”
Three hard knocks come from the front door.
Bill sets down the bottle.
I say, “You expecting anyone?”