The two brothers looked at each other for at least a minute without speaking.
“You a good brother, Josh.”
“You damn right I am.”
Rufus sat on the floor again and picked up the Bible, his hands gently turning the pages until he found the part he wanted. Josh eyed him.
“You still reading that stuff after all this time?”
Rufus looked up at him. “Gonna read it all my life.”
Josh snorted. “You do what you want with your time, but wasting it ain’t such a good idea if you ask me.”
Rufus eyed him stonily. “The word of the Lord kept me alive all these years. That ain’t no waste of time.”
Josh shook his head, looked out the window and then back at Rufus. He touched the grip of his pistol. “This is God. Or a knife, or a stick of dynamite, or a don’t-piss-on-me attitude. Not some holy book full of people killing each other, men taking other men’s women, just about every sin you can think of — ”
“Sins of man, not God.”
“God ain’t the one busted you out. I did.”
“God sent you to me, Josh. His will is everywhere.”
“So you’re saying God made me come get you?”
“Why did you come?”
“I told you. Get you out.”
“’cause you love me?”
Josh appeared a little startled. “Yes,” he said.
“That’s the will of God, Josh. You love me, you help me. That’s God’s way of working.”
Josh shook his head and looked away. Rufus went back to his reading.
A squawking sound came from Josh’s portable police scanner, which he had set on the floor along with his radio. Josh had managed to tune in a radio station from southwest Virginia for any local news on Rufus’s escape.
“Heard your name on the police band anymore?” Josh asked.
Rufus Harms had been mentioned in the news the day before. All the military authorities would say was that Harms was a convicted murderer who had a history of violence inside prison. He had escaped with the help of his brother, a dangerous man in his own right. The standard lingo was used, namely that both men were believed to be armed and dangerous. Translation: No one should be surprised or ask any questions when the authorities dragged their corpses in.
“A little,” Rufus replied. “They’re looking south, like you thought.”
Just then the afternoon news came on the radio. The first two news stories meant nothing to either brother. The third news story was a late-breaking one and it made both brothers stare at the radio. Josh hustled over and turned up the sound. The story only lasted about a minute and when it was over Josh turned the radio off. “Rider and his wife,” he said.
“Made it look like he killed her and then turned the gun on himself,” Rufus added, his head shaking slowly in disbelief. “Two men come to see me and now they’re both dead.”
Josh stared over at his brother. He knew exactly what he was thinking. “Rufus, you can’t bring him back, you can’t bring none of them back.”
“It’s my fault they’re dead. For trying to help me. And Rider’s wife, she didn’t know nothing about any of this.”
“You didn’t ask that Fiske boy to come down to the prison.”
“But I asked Samuel. He’d be alive except for me.”
“He owed you, Rufus. Why you think he came on down in the first place? He felt guilty. He knew he didn’t fight hard for you back then. He was trying to make up for that.”
“He’s still dead, ain’t he? Because of me.”
“Supposing that’s true, you can’t do nothing about it.”
Rufus looked over at him. “I can make sure they didn’t die for nothing. Them folks took most of my life away. And now they took these other peoples’ lives. You say we’ll be okay in Mexico, but they ain’t never gonna stop looking for us. Vic Tremaine is crazy as hell. Just have to look in the man’s eyes to see that. Old Vic been trying to get me all these years. Probably think he’s got his chance now. Fill us both up with lead.”