Page 161 of Hellbent

He moved her hand off his chest and walked out.

* * *

The Mara Salvatrucha contingent outside the church had been beefed up, no doubt in anticipation of Evan’s return. At 9:59 P.M. he emerged from the shadows and walked up to the crew of waiting men.

The handguns came out quickly, ten barrels aimed at Evan’s face. He halted a few steps from the doors.

Devil Horns said, “Spread your arms. We need to make sure you ain’t jacketed up like some Mohammed motherfucker.”

Evan obeyed.

Two younger MS-13 members came forward and patted him down roughly from his ankles to his neck. Puzzled, they looked back at the others and shrugged. “He’s clean.”

Devil Horns smiled, shaking his head as he reached for the reinforced door. “You play one crazy-ass fool.”

The hinges squealed as the door swung open. It seemed the rest of the gang was waiting inside, scattered among the overturned pews. Only a dim altar lamp illuminated the interior, falling across Freeway’s shoulders, backlighting him.

Dozens of tattooed faces swiveled to chart Evan’s progress through the nave. He didn’t bother to look for Xavier; he’d contacted him earlier and told him to make sure he wasn’t on site.

Xavier would not survive what was about to happen.

Evan reached the center of the church and paused. Freeway pressed one fist into the other palm, the knuckles popping one at a time.

“Twenty-four hours,” Freeway said.

“That’s right.”

Freeway curled his lower lip, the piercings clinking on his teeth. “And now you’ve come to kill us all.”

“That’s right.”

A few of the men laughed.

“How you gonna do that?” Freeway asked.

“With this.” Evan reached for his cargo pocket. In the shadows countless submachine guns rose and countless slides clanked.

Freeway held up his arms for his men to calm down. Then he nodded at Evan to proceed.

The Velcro patch on Evan’s pocket flap gave way with a tearing noise that sounded unreasonably loud in the quiet church. Evan stuck his hand in the pocket and came out with a Snickers bar.

There was a disbelieving silence.

Evan peeled the wrapper and took a bite. He chewed, swallowed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a candy bar.

He’d taken it from Joey’s rucksack.

One of the men cracked up, a deep rumble, and then the laughter spread.

No amusement showed on Freeway’s face. He skewered Evan with his black stare. “This pendejo is fucking loco.”

“We should skin him,” someone called out from the darkness.

Freeway flicked open his straight razor. “Not you. Me.” He started down the carpeted stairs, those tattooed eyes never leaving Evan. “Big dog’s gotta eat.”

Evan took another bite. “I’m not done yet,” he said through a full mouth.

“You want to finish your candy bar?” Freeway said.