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Bulldog lifted his chain around his neck, revealing a plain silver cross. “This has gotten me through the worst of shit. I'm not asking any of you to believe in him, but this is the only protection you’ve got.”
Everyone fell silent, not really knowing what to say. Hart asked the hardest questions though.
“Why’d they do it? I mean…what made them do it?”
Bulldog shrugged. “The Devil knows how to choose us, brother. Especially men like us who have seen enough death to break a soul. Each and every one of us are vulnerable.”
Virgil was leaning up against the bar, comfortable in the shadows. You could barely make out our Chaplain’s form. He’d just joined the RBMC and we all had our reservations about him. We didn’t quite trust him just yet, not like he was trying or anything.
“He’s right. I’ve seen him, talked to him. Years ago, before I even knew you existed.”
“What happened?” Saddle asked.
Virgil leaned in, the dim light in the bar casting a shadow on him and his black hat. He looked up, and you could barely make out his clear gray eyes.
“I was young and stupid. I thought that maybe if I talked to him, my demons would shut up. I mean hell, I thought the crossroads were a joke. Turns out I was wrong, so very wrong.”
“What’s in the crossroads?” Brim asked.
“It’s where he cuts deals, sort of like the Devil’s Ride.”
“What kind of deals?” I asked carefully and his eyes shot up to mine.
“Deals for your soul.”
Brim was staring at me, a hard stern look at my face. “What?” I asked him.
“I have a feeling you’re about to do somethin’ stupid and I’m gonna have to go save your ass.”
I grunted. “What I do or don’t do, ain’t your business Tail Gunner.”
He narrowed his eyes on me and I looked away, knowing my brothers had a tendency of doing the opposite of what I wanted when it came to my life. Especially when their other mask was that of a hero. A Goddam, tail gunning, Fire Lieutenant.
Virgil ignored us, continuing with his story. “If you ever see the Devil…if you ever get to talk to him…he opens doors you don’t ever want to go through. Demons you don’t ever want to meet. I’ve seen them. I’ve dedicated my life to fighting them. And I guarantee you, that’s a fight you don't want to have.”
“Fuck,” Saddle whispered.
Bulldog stared up at me. “You willing to take that fight on, Tracker?”
The realization only made me want to go find out if it was true. Maybe I could make a deal too.
“All I needed was the truth,” grabbing my jacket I headed out the door.
“What are you doing, Spectre?” Brim ran behind me.
“I’m going out.”
“Where?” Hart asked, right on my tracks.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters. Do you honestly believe this is going to fix all your problems?” Bulldog stated, still standing at the entrance of the clubhouse.
I turned toward them, raising my arms into the air in frustration. “What am I doing here Bulldog! Waiting to die? Every day for the last five years! When they deserve to live!”
“Youdeserve to live!” Bulldog glared at me, helpless in his plea to save me. But he knew as well as I that I couldn’t be saved.
“Becoming a Reaper isn’t easy, Spectre. The Devil will own you.” Bulldog picked up his pace, following me out as I made my way to my bike. My only sanctuary.
