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"
I
will
,
"
I
say
,
moving
past
him
.
But
his
hand
stays
on
my
shoulder
,
which
must
mean
his
arm
is
stretching
out
behind
me
like
hot
wax
.
I
stop
,
guilty
at
the
pain
that
must
be
causing
him
,
but
he
’
s
still
there
at
my
shoulder
.
I
start
moving
again
.
"
Going
to
turn
and
fight
?
"
he
asks
conversationally
,
drifting
along
beside
me
without
apparent
effort
or
footing
.
"
With
what
?
"
I
say
,
opening
my
empty
hands
.
"
Should
have
armed
yourself
,
pal
.
Big
time
.
"
"
Virginia
told
us
not
to
fall
for
the
weakness
of
weapons
.
"
Jimmy
de
Soto
marts
derisively
.
"
Yeah
,
and
look
where
that
stupid
bitch
ended
up
.
Eighty
to
a
hundred
,
no
remission
.
"
"
You
can
’
t
know
that
,
"
I
say
absently
,
more
interested
in
the
sounds
of
pursuit
behind
me
.
"
You
died
years
before
that
happened
.
"
"
Oh
,
come
on
,
who
really
dies
these
days
?
"
"
Try
telling
that
to
a
Catholic
.
And
anyway
,
you
did
die
,
Jimmy
.
Irretrievably
,
as
I
recall
.
"
