"Exactly! You can't come out here all this way and not stay awhile," said Cully easily, sloshing another few fingers of bourbon into Electa's glass. Sides, be nice for me to have the company. Gets sort of lonesome out here, and thats a fact."

"Yeah, I bet." Electa took another swig of her drink, leaned forward on her elbows. Her voice sounded like it was echoing in her ears as she 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 Electa.

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. She 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 she was doing it, Electa reached for her gun. In one fluid motion, she'd pulled it from its holster and flicked the safety off. She pointed it at Cully. "Who did you text, Cull?"

A hard wariness came over Cully's face. He lowered his glass. "Now, Electa--"

She stood up, never taking her eyes off him. "Answer me."

Cully's gaze narrowed; he hefted himself out of his chair. "Electa, bud, theres some sorta mistake here...."

"Get your hands up," said Electa. Cully did so in slow motion. Electa's eyes stayed locked on his. "Vexin, reach into his breast pocket and get his cell phone. Cully, if you move an inch, I swear to you Ill shoot you."

Nervous but trusting Electa just enough, he stood carefully and did as told. He reached in for Cully's phone, gentle really. He didn't want to hurt Cully if he cooperated.

Keeping her eye on Cully, as well as her gun pointed at him, she asked, "Now get on and look at the text." Cully's phone didn't have a password, luckily.

He nodded and turned it on, swiping it open and looking to the last page that had been open.

The text said: They're here. I'll hold them until you arrive.

Despite his soft complexion, he paled. He started shaking. "E-Electa..." He read it to her, starting to mess with his bracelet in panic.

"You want to explain that, Cull?" she asked quietly.

Cully gave a slight shake of his head. "Now, Electa, I've known you for a lot of years. You're like a sister to me. So you've got to believe me when I say this is for the best."

Electa motioned for Vexin to start toward the door. She snapped up Cully's car keys from the table and shoved them in her jeans pocket. "What are you talking about?"

"You," said Cully. He jerked his head at Vex. "You and that...creature you've picked up. Listen to me, you dont know what youre doing. The angels say that boy's gotta go, and so he's gotta go."

"The angels, right." Trepidation slithered down her spine. She moved a few steps backward, still holding the gun on Cully as she grabbed up the rifle from where it stood against the wall. She moved it away. "Cully, we kill angels, remember?"

"Not anymore." Cully started to take a step forward.

"Stop right there," she warned. "Don't make me shoot, Cully."

Cully stopped. His hands moved in supplication. "Electa, truly, I thought I was doing the best thing all those years, but I was wrong--we all were. You gotta listen to me. The angels have a plan for us. They love us. We gotta do what they say so that we're deserving of their love--"

No. Please no. Not angel burn; not Cully. Electa felt sick. "What are you really doing out here?" she interrupted.

"I live here, like I told you. I'm doing the angels' work.

"What the heck does that mean?"

Cully shrugged, his hands still up. "There might be a couple of AKs still left outstanding; if they turn up here, I can hold them till the angels come, to show them how they've gone astray. And as for right now...every Church of Angels member in the country's been keeping a lookout for y'all. I've been thinking you might turn up here for days. I wouldn't have budged an inch if I hadn't been flat out of food and water."

Electa stared at him, her thoughts reeling. A couple of AKs still outstanding? What had happened to all the rest of them? But she had a terrible feeling that he knew.

"Who's left?" she said in a low voice.

Cully snorted. "No one, probably; I've been here for months. Now, I'm begging you, bud: you've gotta shoot that thing like they want, before he hurts the angels. Just do it now, and this'll all be over with. Heck, I'll even do it for you; just give me the gun. I can tell youve got feelings for him--"

She had heard enough. "Come on, Vexin. Let's get out of here."

He tentatively shoved the phone into his back pocket, not wanting to leave Cully with any contacts. He was scared, really scared. Things where getting worse and worse. "The angels are not kind. They're monsters." he said softly.

Suddenly Cully reached under his T-shirt and yanked out a pistol, aiming it at Vexin.
No!
Electa fired at the same moment Cully did, their shots echoing through the room like the backfiring of a car. Time slowed, sharpened. Cully staggered and fell backward, his gun clattering to the floor; a red bloom of blood burst from his shoulder.

She sprang across the room; time snapped back to normal speed as she grabbed Cully's gun. The man was struggling to sit up, grimacing as he clutched his shoulder. "Lemme finish him off!" he gasped out. "By the angels, lemme finish him off!"

(Up to you whether Vex got shot or not)

(I'd like him to get shot. I don't know why. xD I'm ganna feel bad for it though.)

His eyes went wide and he grit his teeth, clutching his arms around his ribs. He looked shakily at his torso, pulling his arms away just a little and feeling sick and numbed as he saw dark scarlet blood. He was really scared, not able to think much through the fear. "Please ... I ... I didn't want this." He murmured.