Page 50 of Deliver us from Evil

But I doubt it.

It seems they have other things on their mind.

I give them a lead before following.

We drive for a few minutes, headed downtown. Our route takes us past a mall, and then almost back the way we came before heading downtown again.

Are they being paranoid? Retracing their steps?

Or are they struggling to find their way in a strange town? Ha, if Apollo’s the one navigating, then we’re all in for a few more U-turns.

Eventually, we venture into the suburbs. Perfect little houses on their perfect little lawns. Two and three bedrooms, mostly. Some double stories here and there.

Where are we headed, boys? I can’t for a second believe Gabriel would live in a place like this.

Trinity.

I start looking around a little harder. Driving a little slower.

Is this her old neighborhood? There was no address on the intake form at Saint Amos. I guess, by then, she was officially a ward of the state.

Or someone had fucked with her records.

My brothers turn down a side street. I park on the sidewalk, tracking them on my phone’s app, because I have a feeling this is their last turn.

Seconds later they stop.

Then I’m out of the car and jogging down the opposite side of the road. Thank God I had the foresight to pack a hoody. I keep the hood pulled up as I jog. Paired with sunglasses, I’m hoping I’d look like another guy out on a jog, but I know it’ll only take one longer-than-normal glance in my direction for my brothers to recognize me.

The people around here like their trees and shrubs. And not so much fences between properties. As long as no one looks out their window and spots me jogging over their freshly manicured lawn, I should be good.

My brothers’ silver car is parked a few drives down, opposite side of the road. I slow down, slip behind a bushy shrub, and stretch like I’ve got a cramp. But all the while peeking at them through a gap in the foliage.

A minute later they get out of the car. Reuben first, his head turning all directions as if he’s scouting for danger.

Then Cass.

Then Apollo.

But they just stand there, talking. Watching.

I peer down my side of the road. There are a few trees and shrubs I could use as cover, but I have no idea which house they’re targeting. I could end up jogging right into their line of sight.

Reuben turns and looks straight at me.

I throw myself back, stumble over a fucking garden gnome, and land flat on my ass.

As I’m about to get up, I hear a door open behind me. I look back as an old lady walks out onto her porch. She scans her lawn, and despite her thick glasses—or perhaps because of them—sees me.

Shit.

I get up, trying not to bolt, and then stop when I feel a tug on my pants leg.

Christ, I’ve gotten my jeans hooked in a thorn.

The old lady’s garden isn’t quite as well kept as the others around here. Her roses, for instance, are the kind you’d expect growing wild around a mansion where neighborhood kids dare each other to knock on the door.

I yank at my pants, and that shakes the entire row of fucking roses.

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