Free Exit Kingdom by Alden Bell Page B

tears all over his flesh, wounds kept open by picking fingers. Some are
scabbed over and some are dripping blood or pus. Others are sealed closed but still fresh.It seems as though, riddled with plague and offence, he cannot keep it all contained behind the walls of
his thin, translucent skin. The sombrero, with a neck strap that hangs down like a disembodied grin below his chin, is a horrific joke. The displaced laughter of a man cursed by hell to giddy
misfortune.
    It’s Fletcher, Moses knows, recognizing him from the description Ignatius gave.And it’s not surprising, such a torn and bloodied little man. A relay of brutality – inflicting
on the world the same mundane suffering he feels daily.
    Moses hesitates not a second. He rushes forwards while the men are still startled and confused by the corpse of their companion lying on the ground, gets one big arm around Fletcher’s neck
and spins him to hold him from behind, the gunin his hand shoved against Fletcher’s temple.
    What Moses hopes for is some loyalty on the part of Fletcher’s men – and it’s a risk, because loyalty is a quaint and toylike notion in this ravaged place.
    But there must be some impulse that touches on loyalty, because when Moses tells them to drop their weapons, they lower them at least.
    Moses pressed the barrel of the pistol harder againstFletcher’s head, and it feels like it will slip away on the greasy film that covers the man’s skin.
    Goddamnit! Fletcher says to his own men. Do it! Drop the guns, you pricks, or I’ll kill you myself!
    So it’s not loyalty so much as fear. But it works in any case. They drop their weapons.
    Now who the fuck are you? Fletcher asks Moses, trying to angle his head to see the man who has himby the neck. And what do you want? You might as well wish big, cause you’re gonna be dead
by dawn, you cocksucker.
    Moses looks out over the horizon, the sky diffuse with brilliant umber.
    It’s already dawn, he says close to the man’s ear.
    Fuck you, you literal prick.
    Now Moses can see Ignatius and the other congregants carefully peeking over the edge of the wall, watching theexchange with solemn interest.
    Moses backs away, dragging Fletcher with him.
    I’m taking my brother and the girl, Moses says loud enough for everyone to hear. That’s our Chevy in the front. We’re taking it. Understand?
    Fletcher’s men look uneasy about what to do, so Fletcher gives them commands.
    Let’s just hold off on takin action at the moment, he tells them. Let’s all just waittill I don’t got this goddamn pistol on my brain. How’s that sound? This asshole
can’t keep huggin me all day.
    Moses pulls Fletcher back to where his brother sits on the ground.
    Can you stand? Moses says.
    Just barely, Abraham says.
    Lean on the girl, he says. Then he says to the Vestal Amata, Help him up.
    So the four of them hobble their way around to the front of the mission,Fletcher’s men following at a respectful distance. But when they turn the last corner to the front gate, there are
more of Fletcher’s crew waiting. A caravan of eight or ten trucks and vans, lined up in a neat row, and figures posed around each with rifles and pistols aimed at Moses and his small,
stumbling group.
    Now what, smokey joe? Fletcher says to Moses. You gotta let go of me atsome point.
    Yeah, Moses says. About ten miles up the road.
    The fuck you are.
    Moses moves them to the Chevy and then calls out to Fletcher’s crew surrounding them.
    Now look here, he says. We’re gettin in this car. First the girl and my brother. Then your bossman. He’s gonna sit in the front seat with me. I’m driving away, but my
brother’s gonna have a gun pointed at his head thewhole time.
    He hesitates. The snarling faces of the men suggest that he is relying too heavily on their love of Fletcher. He wonders if they would mow them all down where they stand if it weren’t for
the loss of profit from the girl herself.
    I’ll tell you like you told the padre