The Living God seemed to whisper me, guiding my hand. "Warlocks!" I roared as I pointed my gun at the two demonic whores and pulled the trigger.My gun...barked over and over. Fire belched from the 9mm's barrel. The air rippled about the witches, wavering like reality itself was being bent. My bullets careened off, striking into the walls around them. Deflected.My stomach lurched. I was in trouble. My trigger clicked. My gun was empty. I had to get out of here. There were thirty Warlocks here. A. Linda came up beside me, close enough for our arms to touch, and asked how I liked the view. I said it was incredible and I envied her. She said it had been her parent’s house and had hardly been used in years. Now it belonged to her and her brother. I asked if her brother was here now and she said no, she had come up alone. We had turned to look at each other as we talked. The sun was shining on her face and I noticed that she looked better than I had originally thought. Her hair was. Over the decades, the diner had provided his best source of support and a boatload of valuable tax deductions. Still, Richard was no nearer the Last Chance this Christmas Eve than he was on any other day. Besides having its own special place in the diner, that warning postcard was the source of unending conversation, none of which came near the boring truth. Sometime in the distant past, it was said, a forgotten short order cook taped it there after an inebriated regular attempted to secure. Lloyd Greene said joyfully.Will gasped, the sound of the reverend made him feel scared, “Y-y-you...you-”“Why, Will, I would think you’d have somethin better to say to me than that! How’s my granddaughter doin? How bought that little Chinese girl yall seem to be runnin round with now?”“You bastard! Mark killed Sam! It’s all your fault! You-you-I hate you!”The reverend laughed, “I hate you too, boy. But I tell you who don’t, this girl Rachel here. Yah know somethin Will, I would love it if you.