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“Glad I made it back for supper.”
“You better eat up while you’re on board. We’re not taking any supplies with us when we go for the sword,” says Wanuri.
“Why?”
“We cannot carry them,” says the Magistrate. “Without the vehicles, we will have to move the weapon ourselves.”
I look around the room. He’s serious.
“We’ve gone from a crusade to pack mules? Why not just leave the gun, get the sword, and bring it back?”
“With whom should we leave it? Who can we trust at this point?”
“You saw Johnny and his bunch,” says Daja. “He isn’t the only one with a gang at this point.”
I say, “What about the angels? Can’t we leave the gun with them?”
“Then who would lead us to our goal?” says the Magistrate. “Who would protect us if there was another attack?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t believe you people. I’m gone a few days and I come back to the end of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.”
Everybody stares at me.
“It’s a movie. There’s a standoff in a graveyard at the end. Everybody is going to shoot everybody else.”
Gisco says something and signs. I don’t need a translator to know he wants to hear how it comes out.
“Clint Eastwood is the star. You do the math.”
He gives me a thumbs-up.
“That is all terribly interesting, but what about the larger issue? Did you find Death?”
“Actually, he usually finds me. But yes, I did.”
His eyes light up. At least someone around here believes that I know interesting people.
“And what did he say?”
“He’s with us. He’s not going to run around killing everybody who looks at us cross-eyed, but when the time comes, he’ll be there.”
“Is that all? Did he give you anything to bring back that might help us?”
I wonder if he knows about Death’s hoodoo knife? He’s an archangel. Of course he does. He was probably on the budget committee that approved it.
“There’s this.”
I hand him the lighter.
He holds it up to the light and looks it over.
“What does it do?”
“It lights cigarettes.”
He hands it back to me.
