The Wrath of Angels

these four men would do his work for him, and he would start killing after.

He watched them finish their drinks and leave the restaurant. They walked to their rooms in two pairs, Parker and Garner in front, the others behind. The Collector’s right hand slipped beneath his coat and found the hilt of a knife. He rested his fingers on it but did not draw it from its sheath. Beside it was his gun, fully loaded.

Three rooms, four men. It was risky, but not beyond his capabilities.

Kill them all.

But the list, the list . . .

48

The first sign that luck might not be going our way came when I woke up and went out to get coffee. In the parking lot was a shiny white SUV, obviously a rental, and leaning against it, already drinking a coffee of her own, was Liat. She was wearing a parka over beige canvas combat pants and a green sweater. The ends of her pants were tucked into rubber-soled boots.

‘I guess you missed me,’ I said.

One corner of her mouth curled up in very slight amusement.

‘You didn’t want to come in?’

She shook her head.

‘Did Epstein send you?’

Nod.

‘Doesn’t he trust us to bring him the list?’

Shrug.

The door to Angel and Louis’s room opened, and Louis appeared. He was already dressed for the woods, but he still managed to make cargo pants look good.

‘Who’s this?’ he asked. ‘She looks familiar.’

‘This is Liat.’

‘Liat,’ said Louis. ‘That Liat.’

‘The same.’

‘Well, I only saw her from a distance, and not from the same angles that you did. She miss you?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Then why is she here?’

‘To bring the list back to Epstein.’

‘She’s coming with us?’

‘You could try to stop her, but you’d probably have to shoot her.’

Louis considered the possibility, then seemed to discount it.

‘You planning on inviting any more ex-girlfriends along? Just asking.’

‘No.’

‘Well, long as it’s just her . . .’

Angel joined Louis. He was also dressed for the woods, and still managed to make cargo pants look bad.

‘Who’s this?’ he asked.

Spare me, I thought.

‘Liat,’ said Louis.

‘That Liat?’

‘Yep, that Liat.’

‘At least we know she exists,’ said Angel. ‘All I saw was a shape in the distance.’

‘You think he made her up?’ asked Louis.

‘It seemed more likely than him actually being with a woman.’

Liat, who had been following the conversation with her eyes, blushed.

‘Nice,’ I said.

‘Sorry,’ said Angel. He smiled at Liat. ‘But, you know, it’s true.’

Another door opened, and Jackie Garner emerged. He squinted at Liat.

‘Who’s this?’

‘Liat,’ said Angel.

Jackie looked confused, as well he might have done.

‘Who’s Liat?’

It was just after eight. Ray Wray was drinking coffee, eating a protein bar, and, after the events of the night before, wishing he was back in jail.

He and Joe had bedded down in bags on the floor of the cabin, on the other side of the sheet from the boy and his mother, but only Joe had managed to get any real rest. Ray had drifted in and out of sleep, and at some point in the night he had woken to see the boy standing at one of the windows, touching his fingers to the glass, his lips moving soundlessly. His reflection hung like a moon against the night sky, the true moon suspended above it like a second face. Ray had been afraid to move, and kept his breathing regular so that the boy would not suspect he was being watched. After perhaps fifteen minutes, the boy prepared to return to his bed, but he paused at the sheet that divided the room and looked back at Ray. Ray closed his eyes. He heard the padding of the boy’s feet as he crossed the room, and then felt his breath on his skin. He smelled it too. It smelled bad. The boy’s face was so close to his own that Ray could feel the warmth of it. He forced himself not to pull away, and not to open his eyes, even as he told himself that this was only a kid, and Ray should just tell him to get his ass back to bed where it belonged. But he did not, because the boy frightened him. He frightened him more than his mother, if that’s what she was, with her ruined face and that dead eye embedded in it like a bubble of fat on barely cooked meat. Ray willed him to go away. He’d been so careful, but somehow the boy knew that he was awake.

Just a kid, thought Ray, just a kid. So what if I was awake? What’s he going to do to me: pull my hair, tell his mom?

The answer came to him without hesitation.

Something bad, that’s what he’ll do. The feel of the boy’s breath shifted. It was on his lips now, as though he were leaning in for a kiss. Ray could taste him in his mouth. He wanted to turn over so badly, except he didn’t want his back to the kid. That would be worse than facing him.

The boy moved away. Ray heard the sound of his footsteps as he made his way back to his bed. Ray risked opening his eyes.

The boy was walking backwards, his back to the sheet, so that he could keep watching Ray. The boy grinned when he saw that Ray’s eyes were open. He had won, and Ray had lost. He raised his left hand and wagged a finger at Ray.

Ray was tempted to get up and run from the cabin. If there was a forfeit to this game, he didn’t want to find out what it was. But the boy just pushed aside the sheet, and Ray heard him climb into the bed behind, and then all was still.

Ray looked at the window. The moon was no longer visible.

That was when Ray realized that there was no moon that night, and he had not closed his eyes again until morning.

Angel, Louis and I rode in Jackie’s truck. Liat followed behind in her rental. It was a private road, but one routinely used by locals and hunters. Still, Jackie had secured all the necessary permits, just in case, so we were right with the paper company, the warden service, and probably God Himself.

‘You didn’t want to ride with your girlfriend?’ asked Angel from the back.

‘I think she was just using me.’

‘Right,’ said Angel. He allowed a perfectly timed pause, then said, ‘For what?’

‘Funny,’ I replied, although there was an uncomfortable truth behind Angel’s joke.

We passed a couple of trucks and old cars parked by the side of the road: hunters, the ones who had set out before dawn and would return to town by early afternoon if they’d shot anything. Most hunters liked to stay close to a road, and within five miles of Falls End there were a lot of edges where deer came to feed. There was no reason