Blackburn

"You were better off without him," Blackburn said.

"Tell me about it," Morton said. He reached behind his back again and produced a quart bottle of orange Gatorade. He held it out to Blackburn. "Drink ye all of it, for this is the blood of Morton of Nazareth, which is shed for many for the remission of sins." His eyes narrowed. "You do have sins, don't you? I don't want to waste this stuff. We're talking blood here."

Blackburn was thirsty, so he took the bottle. "I only have one sin," he said, "but it's a big one. A woman was raped because I didn't do anything to stop it." He shook the bottle, took off the cap, and drank. The Gatorade was warm and salty. He drank half the bottle in seven gulps, then lowered it and caught his breath.

"I said all of it," Morton said. "Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life. So chugalug." He clapped his hands and chanted. "Chugalug, chugalug, chugalug."

Blackburn chugalugged, draining the bottle. Then he belched.

"Attaboy," Morton said. "Now, if thou wilt confess thy sins unto me and accept me as thy Savior, thou wilt be born again of water and of the Spirit and dwell in Paradise, a small town in Utah."

Blackburn dropped the bottle, and it clanked against the Python. He saw then that the Python's muzzle was clogged with mulch from his falls in the woods, so he picked up the pistol and removed its cartridge cylinder. "I told you, I only have one sin," he said, pulling a weed and running it into the Python's barrel. "And the woman I committed it against has already absolved me, so I don't need to be born again."

Morton sat up straighter and glared. "Unless she has written permission, she can't absolve squat. And even if she does, you still need a Savior."

Blackburn continued cleaning the Python. "I don't think so. I was willing to accept a Savior when I was a kid, but everyone who tried to sell me one turned out to be peddling snake oil."

"That which is born of the flesh is flesh," Morton said, "and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. They were false prophets; I'm the real McCoy."

"The Christians say that Jesus is."

Morton snorted. "Yea, but if Jesus had to die for Christians to be saved, and Jews killed Him, then shouldn't Christians be kissing Jews on the backside at high noon instead of burying them in shallow graves at midnight? Hear then my condemnation: That light is come into the world, and men love darkness rather than light. Verily, a new, improved Savior with superior night vision is required."

Blackburn finished wiping the Python clean with his T-shirt. "You?"

"As foretold in the prophecies," Morton said. "Witness my birthplace, my home town, my ministry, my scourging, and my crown of thorns. Witness that I yearn to submit to the sacrifice, and that I shall exalt whosoever offs me as the instrument of man's salvation. I'd do it myself, but that would be an act of selfishness and would queer the deal. So pack up your doubts and troubles in your old kit bag and behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world!"

"I don't see a crown of thorns," Blackburn said.

Morton put his hands on his hips. "I took it off for the evening, okay? The damn thing hurts."

Blackburn snapped the Python's cartridge cylinder back in place and laid the gun on the ground again. "Sorry," he said. "No offense."

Morton took his hands from his hips and pointed a finger at Blackburn. "Art thou going to confess thy sins and be saved, or aren't thou?"

"I repeat, I only have one sin."

"I'll be the judge of that." Morton cleared his throat. "To begin: Hast thou had any other Gods before me?"

Blackburn peered across the fire at Morton, studying his dirty, lined face in the flickering light. "No," he said, "but I can't say that I've had you either."

"Close enough," Morton said. "Now for door number two: Hast thou ever taken my name in vain?"

" 'Morton'?"

"Okay, dumb question." Morton scratched his beard. "How about adultery? Ever done that?"

"No. It was done to me, though."

Morton gasped. "What'd you do to your wife when you found out?"

"I tied her upside-down in a closet. It didn't hurt her, but I guess I feel bad about it."

"You let her off easy," Morton said. "So forget it and tell me: Hast thou honored thy father and thy mother?"

Blackburn looked at the fire. "I tried to do what they said, when I was a kid. But I don't think I loved them. My mother was weak, and my father was-"

Morton interrupted. "A frustrated failure who became a mean-tempered, shit-heeled son of a bitch you wished you had the guts to kill?"

"Something like that," Blackburn said.

"Piss on 'em, then," Morton said. "My old man used to scourge me with baling wire, and when he left, my mom took up the slack. That's why in my church, commandments are conditional. Which brings me to: Hast thou killed? People and furry creatures, I mean. Serpents, bugs, and armadillos that jumped up into your transmission don't count."

"Yes," Blackburn admitted. "I've killed nineteen men."

Morton didn't seem surprised. "Did they deserve it?" he asked.

"Every one of them."

"Piss on 'em, then." Morton stood. His joints made popping sounds. "Come kneel thou before me."

Blackburn stood and went around the fire, then knelt beside a shallow hole that was just behind the spot where Morton had been sitting. The hole contained the butane lighter, another bottle of Gatorade, a bag of Fritos, and a dead mole. Blackburn clasped his hands before him in a prayerful attitude.

Morton placed his hands on Blackburn's head. "Dost thou repent of all thy manifold sins?" he cried.

"Well, the one, anyway," Blackburn said.

"Dost thou promise to walk in the way of righteousness?"

"Yea, verily," Blackburn said.

"Art thou now or hast thou ever been a member of the Communist Party?"

"Not to the best of my recollection."

Morton pressed down hard. "Be thou clean!" he shouted. "By the powers vested in Me by Me, I now pronounce you SAVED!" He leaned over and gave Blackburn a wet kiss on the mouth. Then he straightened and smiled. "Son, thy sins be forgiven thee. Let's us go find the nearest body of water." He wrinkled his nose. "You smell a little gamy."

Blackburn laughed. Morton might be crazy, but his craziness was more tolerable than what most of the world called sanity. He stood and shook Morton's hand.

"Thank you," Blackburn said.

"Thou art welcome," Morton said. "Maybe someday you can do something for me."

As Morton spoke, there was a crashing noise in the forest. Blackburn released Morton's hand and jumped across the fire. He scooped up the Python and cocked it, then stood with his back to the flames and looked into the woods. He saw bobbing disks of white and yellow light.

With the lights came voices. "There!" one cried. "I see him!"

Blackburn jumped back across the fire and grasped Morton's arm. "Come on," he said. "We'll head the other way."

But as he began to pull Morton that way, lights appeared among the trees there as well. So Blackburn turned another way, and then another. The lights were almost everywhere. Only one direction was free, but Blackburn and Morton had taken only a few steps when the sound of engines approached from there. Then headlights appeared, bearing down on them.

Blackburn stopped, and now he saw that he and Morton were standing in the same clearing where the Nissan had been parked. He had followed Morton for miles, only to be led back to their starting point.

They were surrounded. A circle of more than a dozen armed men emerged from the trees, and two vehicles with not only headlights but spotlights entered the clearing. Blackburn and Morton were caught in their beams.