Angel, Page 52

Page 52

 

  Alex felt unease ripple through him. “Willow, I’ve known him for almost my entire life. ”

  Sitting back in her seat, she nodded, her expression far from convinced.

  A few moments passed. Glancing toward the kitchen, Alex suddenly realized that Cully had been gone for longer than he should have been. Then he hated himself for even having the thought. Not looking at Willow, he quietly pushed his chair back and went into the kitchen.

  “Hey, Cully, do you want any —?”

  He broke off. Cully was leaning against the kitchen counter, looking down at his cell phone. “Just textin’ my mama,” he said cheerfully, tucking the phone into his breast pocket. He gave Alex a grin. “Funny how the service out here improved once the CIA poked their nose in, isn’t it?”

  Alex’s scalp prickled. In all the years he’d known Cully, he’d never known him to keep in touch with his family. Hiding his thoughts, he picked up the cold Coke from the counter as they headed back into the other room. “Yeah . . . remember how everyone used to bitch at Dad to move the camp?” He handed the Coke to Willow; there was a hissing sound as she popped it open.

  Cully chuckled as he settled himself stiffly into a chair. “Boy, do I. Folks got a little tired of trying to call base and just getting static. Then here comes the CIA, and boom — we got service!” He poured splashes of bourbon into both the glasses; pushed one across the table to Alex. “So what’s your news, boy? You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

  Stalling for time, Alex took a swig of the bourbon, tasting its smoky burn as it went down. He never drank much when he was on the road — you never knew when you were going to get a text sending you halfway across the country — but back before the Invasion, there had been countless poker games with Cully and a bottle of Jim Beam.

  Alex had never thought, then, that he would ever have reason to doubt the man.

  He gave a casual shrug, keeping his expression neutral. “Nothing’s going on — I just don’t get along too well with the CIA, either. So I thought I’d take a break. Willow and I met in Maine — she felt like taking off for a while, too. ”

  “You’re not a runaway, are you, Miss Willow?” asked Cully, propping his muscular forearms onto the table with a grin. He swirled the golden liquid around in its glass.

  “No, my parents don’t really care what I do,” said Willow with a tight smile. “They probably haven’t even noticed I’m gone yet. ”

  “Well, I don’t blame you about the CIA,” said Cully to Alex. He drained half his glass in one gulp. “Cell phone service, yes — running an outfit like this, no. Buncha yahoos, if you ask me. What we need is your old man back, God rest his soul. ”

  The words seemed to hang in the air as a memory came back to Alex: they had just buried his father out there in the blistering desert, a mound of rough, sandy soil the only marker. Cully had dropped his hand heavily on Alex’s shoulder as they trudged back to the Jeep. I know how you feel, boy, he’d said. I had to bury my mama when I was just a few years older than you. Hurts like hell.

  Now, sitting at his father’s old table, Alex nodded at Cully’s comment — but he could feel the adrenaline surging through him. Cully’s mother was dead. Who the hell had he been texting, then?

  “So what’s your plan?” asked Cully. “You wanna stay out here for a while, show Miss Willow the sights?” He winked at her. “Man, we got some good ones. We got lizards and buzzards . . . coupla coyotes . . . plenty of sand, if you like to sunbathe . . . ”

  Willow’s hand clenched the Coke. “Maybe. I don’t know what our plans are yet. ”

  “Ah, you can’t come out here all this way and not stay awhile,” said Cully easily, sloshing another few fingers of bourbon into Alex’s glass. “’Sides, be nice for me to have the company. Gets sort of lonesome out here, and that’s a fact. ”

  “Yeah, I bet. ” Alex took another swig of his drink, leaned forward on his elbows. His voice sounded like it was echoing in his ears as he said, “So how’s your mom doing?”

  Cully chuckled. “Oh, you know, the old gal’s still going strong — plays bridge like a fiend down there in Mobile. Think I’m gonna have to sign her up to Gamblers Anonymous. Or else take her to Vegas, let her clean up on the slot machines. ”

  “I thought your mother was dead,” said Alex.

  There was a beat. Cully’s mouth was still curved in a smile, but the laughter had left his eyes. “No, that’s my stepmama. She died of cancer when I was about sixteen; cut my old man up plenty. ”

  Cully’s father had been a Baptist preacher; Cull had often made jokes about how he himself had broken practically every one of the Ten Commandments by the time he was a teenager. Alex remembered him laughing, shaking his head: My poor old daddy, I almost drove him to drink. There he was, a preacher who lived by the good book; had been with the same woman his whole life — and somehow he got a hell-raiser like me for a son. Man, he almost used to cry as he was whalin’ on me with the flat of his Bible.

  The same woman his whole life. There had been no stepmother.

  Hardly able to believe he was doing it, Alex reached for his gun. In one fluid motion, he’d pulled it from its holster and flicked the safety off. He pointed it at Cully. “Who did you text, Cull?”

  A hard wariness came over Cully’s face. He lowered his glass. “Now, Alex —”

  Alex stood up, never taking his eyes off him. “Answer me. ”

  Cully’s gaze narrowed; he hefted himself out of his chair. “Alex, bud, there’s some sorta mistake here. . . . ”

  “Get your hands up,” said Alex. Cully did so in slow motion. Alex’s eyes stayed locked on his. “Willow, reach into his breast pocket and get his cell phone. Cully, if you move an inch, I swear to God I’ll shoot you. ”

  Swallowing hard, Willow pushed her chair back and did so, her hand fumbling in the pocket. She got the cell phone and moved quickly away as she fiddled with the buttons.

  Her face paled. Her eyes flew to Alex’s face. “It says, They’re here. I’ll hold them till you arrive. ”

  “You want to explain that, Cull?” said Alex quietly.

  Cully gave a slight shake of his head. “Now, Alex, I’ve known you for a lot of years. Hell, you’re like a brother to me. So you’ve got to believe me when I say this is for the best. ”

  Alex motioned for Willow to start toward the door. He snapped up Cully’s car keys from the table and shoved them in his jeans pocket. “What are you talking about?”

  “You,” said Cully. He jerked his head at Willow. “You and that — creature you’ve picked up. Alex, listen to me, you don’t know what you’re doing. The angels say that girl’s gotta go, and so she’s gotta go. ”

  “The angels, right. ” Trepidation slithered down Alex’s spine. He moved a few steps backward, still holding the gun on Cully as he grabbed up the rifle from where it stood against the wall. He handed it to Willow. “Cully, we kill angels, remember?”

  “Not anymore. ” Cully started to take a step forward.

  “Stop right there,” said Alex. “Don’t make me shoot, Cully. ”