Long as we're there by nightfall.'
'That ought to bring you right on it,' Old Timer said. 'You take Deadman's Road. When you get to the fork, where the road ends, you go right. Ain't no one ever seen Gimet beyond that spot, or in front of where the road begins. He's tied to that stretch, way I heard it.'
'Good enough,' the deputy said. 'I find this all foolish, but if I can get some rest, and have you ride along with me, Reverend, then I'm game. And I'll be fine with getting there at night.'
Next morning they slept late, and had an early lunch. Beans and hard biscuits again, a bit of stewed squirrel. Old Timer had shot the rodent that morning while Jubil watched Bill sit on his ass, his hands chained around a tree in the front yard. Inside the cabin, the deputy had continued to sleep.
But now they all sat outside eating, except for Bill.
'What about me?' Bill asked, tugging at his chained hands.
'When we finish,' Old Timer said. 'Don't know if any of the squirrel will be left, but we got them biscuits for you. I can promise you some of them. I might even let you rub one of them around in my plate, sop up some squirrel gravy.'
'Those biscuits are awful,' Bill said.
'Ain't they,' Old Timer said.
Bill turned his attention to Jubil. 'Preacher, you ought to just go on and leave me and the boy here alone. Ain't smart for you to ride along, 'cause I get loose, ain't just the deputy that's gonna pay. I'll put you on the list.'
'After what I've seen in this life,' Jubil said, 'you are nothing to me. An insect… So, add me to your list.'
'Let's feed him,' the deputy said, nodding at Bill, 'and get to moving. I'm feeling rested and want to get this ball started.'
The moon had begun to rise when they rode in sight of Deadman's Road. The white cross road sign was sticking up beside the road. Trees and brush had grown up around it, and between the limbs and the shadows, the crudely painted words on the sign were halfway readable in the waning light. The wind had picked up and was grabbing at leaves, plucking them from the ground, tumbling them about, tearing them from trees and tossing them across the narrow, clay road with a sound like mice scuttling in straw.
'Fall always depresses me,' the deputy said, halting his horse, taking a swig from his canteen.
'Life is a cycle,' Jubil said. 'You're born, you suffer, then you're punished.'
The deputy turned in his saddle to look at Jubil. 'You ain't much on that resurrection and reward, are you?'
'No, I'm not.'
'I don't know about you,' the deputy said, 'but I wish we hadn't gotten here so late. I'd rather have gone through in the day.'
'Thought you weren't a believer in spooks?' Bill said, and made with his now familiar snort. 'You said it didn't matter to you.'
The deputy didn't look at Bill when he spoke. 'I wasn't here then. Place has a look I don't like. And I don't enjoy temptin' things. Even if I don't believe in them.'
'That's the silliest thing I ever heard,' Bill said.
'Wanted me with you,' Jubil said. 'You had to wait.'
'You mean to see something, don't you, preacher?' Bill said.
'If there is something to see,' Jubil said.
'You believe Old Timer's story?' the deputy said. 'I mean, really?'
'Perhaps.'
Jubil clucked to his horse and took the lead.
When they turned onto Deadman's Road, Jubil paused and removed a small, fat Bible from his saddlebag.
The deputy paused too, forcing Bill to pause as well. 'You ain't as ornery as I thought,' the deputy said. 'You want the peace of the Bible just like anyone else.'
'There is no peace in this book,' Jubil said. 'That's a real confusion. Bible isn't anything but a book of terror, and that's how God is: terrible. But the book has power. And we might need it.'
'I don't know what to think about you, Reverend,' the deputy said.
'Ain't nothin' you can think about a man that's gone loco,' Bill said. 'I don't want to stay with no man that's loco.'
'You get an idea to run, Bill, I can shoot you off your horse,' the deputy said. 'Close range with my revolver, far range with my rifle. You don't want to try it.'
'It's still a long way to Nacogdoches,' Bill said.
The road was narrow and of red clay. It stretched far ahead like a band of blood, turned sharply to the right around a wooded curve where it was a dark as the bottom of Jonah's whale. The blowing leaves seemed especially intense on the road, scrapping dryly about, winding in the air like giant hornets. The trees, which grew thick, bent in the wind, from right to left. This naturally led the trio to take to the left side of the road.
The farther they went down the road, the darker it became. By the time they got to the curve, the woods were so thick, and the thunderous skies had grown so dark, the moon was barely visible; its light was as weak as a sick baby's grip.
When they had travelled for some time, the deputy said, obviously feeling good about it, 'There ain't nothing out here 'sides what you would expect. A possum maybe. The wind.'
'Good for you, then,' Jubil said. 'Good for us all.'
'You sound disappointed to me,' the deputy said.
'My line of work isn't far from yours, Deputy. I look for bad guys of a sort, and try and send them to Hell… Or in some cases, back to Hell.'
And then, almost simultaneous with a flash of lightning, something crossed the road not far in front of them.
'What the hell was that?' Bill said, coming out of what had been a near stupor.
'It looked like a man,' the deputy said.
'Could have been,' Jubil said. 'Could have been.'
'What do you think it was?'
'You don't want to know.'
'I do.'
'Gimet,' Jubil said.
The sky let the moon loose for a moment, and its light spread through the trees and across the road. In the light there were insects, a large wad of them, buzzing about in the air.
'Bees,' Bill said. 'Damn if them ain't bees. And at night. That ain't right.'
'You an expert on bees?' the deputy asked.
'He's right,' Jubil said. 'And look, they're gone now.'
'Flew off,' the deputy said.
'No… no they didn't,' Bill said. 'I was watching, and they didn't fly nowhere. They're just gone. One moment they were there, then they was gone, and that's all there is to it. They're like ghosts.'
'You done gone crazy,' the deputy said.
'They are not insects of this earth,' Jubil said. 'They are familiars.'
'What,' Bill said.
'They assist evil, or evil beings,' Jubil said. 'In this case, Gimet. They're like a witch's black cat familiar. Familiars take on animal shapes, insects, that sort of thing.'
'That's ridiculous,' the deputy said. 'That don't make no kind of sense at all.'
'Whatever you say,' Jubil said, 'but I would keep my eyes alert, and my senses raw. Wouldn't hurt to keep your revolvers loose in their holsters. You could well need them. Though, come to think of it, your revolvers won't be much use.'
'What the hell does that mean?' Bill said.
Jubil didn't answer. He continued to urge his horse on, something that was becoming a bit more difficult as
