He will not take my hand. He would rather lie in the dirt than touch me.
This in itself makes me want to kill him. It exposes the truth of his Poison Oak roots, his allegiance to the dark forces that oppose everything we Willows stand for.
I am sure of it. I can smell the stench of evil upon him like sulfur. My warrior spirit urges me to cut the thread of his wicked life before he can do further damage to my family or America.
Except for one problem.
I've decided I must be totally sure before I move forward. Totally sure I'm not making a mistake under dark influence. Totally sure these people are not who they say they are.
Before I kill them all.
"Okay, man." I pull back my hand and step away from him...but not so far that he'll feel free to run off. "That's cool. I dig your personal space."
He stares up at me with sheer terror in his eyes. It is the look of the guilty when confronted with inescapable retribution.
I want to snuff out that look forever...but it's not time for that yet. I have business with him and his despicable cohorts. I have to find out where they've taken my family, and I have to be totally sure they're the Poison Oaks I believe them to be.
Only then will I put the seal on their death warrants.
Suddenly, the door to the flying saucer diner swings open. Out strolls the big ponytailed guy who fought me at the movie studio...but he doesn't look so brave this time. He freezes when he catches sight of me, and his eyes shoot wide open; he can't keep the fear off his face. Unlike the last time we met, he knows full well how dangerous I am, and he doesn't have his pal Enrique to back him up in a fight.
The next person out of the diner is the one I'm most anxious to see. The one who drove me to doubt my warpath and consider hara-kiri.
She stops a few feet from the door and looks in my direction. I spot a glimmer of surprise on her face when she sees me—maybe the faintest spark of fear, though I can't be sure—and then all expression vanishes. She gazes blankly at me, her emerald eyes flashing like beacons.
"Hello." The self-proclaimed Kitty says it calmly, as if she's not overly concerned about seeing me there. As if she doesn't know who I really am and what I've done to her fellow Poison Oaks.
Of course, she wouldn't be concerned if she really was Kitty, would she? Or is this just an act?
"Hey, sis!" I grin and wave. "Sorry I'm late!"
"What's he talking about?" The big guy's glaring, trying to look more scary than scared...but he can't fool me. He might make a move before this is all over, but I already have a decisive psychological edge.
Kitty, on the other hand, remains unreadable. She tips her head to one side, considering me, running the same mental math I've already done in my head. Weighing the options.
Not that she has any right now. I've set the scene to run one way only. My script reads like this: we're all one big happy family...until I decide otherwise.
Kitty understands. "Better late than never. What kept you?"
"Traffic." I give her a wink. "And pretty girls."
At that point, the big guy clamps a hand on Kitty's shoulder and tries to pull her aside. "Can we talk for a minute? Over here?"
"Go ahead, you two." I chuckle and pull out one of my guns—the six-shooter. "I've got some cleanup to do."
The big guy hesitates, then walks Kitty a few yards away. They talk quietly, so I can't quite make out what they're saying...and the whole time, he never takes his eyes off me.
Neither does the one on the ground. He's still down there, ass in the red dirt, staring up at me like a baby watching a bear.
I step forward forcefully and grab his upper arm. The gun in my other hand hangs loose—but it's there. "Let's get you back on your feet." I haul him up, then let go when he's standing on his own. "The dusting-off-your-ass part's up to you."
I give Scaredy-Cat some space and raise the gun. Sight in on the big ponytailed guy, aiming right between his eyes as he watches me.
Then, I lower the gun and flip open the cylinder. Pop out and pocket the six shells. Pull out a pipe cleaner and scrub out each chamber.
While I'm cleaning the gun, I see the big guy perk up a little, thinking I'm disarmed. Thinking he has a chance, maybe.
For his benefit, I pull the .45 automatic out of my shoulder holster and wave it around a little. Mr. Gung Ho looks more whipped than ever.
And I go back to cleaning the six-shooter, laughing to myself. Wait till he sees what else I've got up my sleeve.
Just wait.
I let the big guy and Kitty conspire as long as they like. No need to rush them. I'm the one who set the deadline for killing all the Willows, after all; I can extend it as much as I like.
Finally, Kitty raises her voice and chops her hand through the air. "End of discussion."
As she starts to walk away from the big guy, though, he grabs her by the upper arm. "No, wait."
"What choice do we have, Quincy?" says Kitty.
"But he'll...you know." Quincy gapes at my revolver.
"Easy, big fella." I've finished cleaning the gun, and I'm reloading cartridges in the cylinder. "I have no intention of killing anyone who's a friend of my sister's."
"Well, that's comforting." Quincy tries to sound agreeable for my benefit, but he can't quite keep the sarcasm out of his voice completely.
"Glad to hear it." As I smile at Quincy, I realize I like him the least. Everything about him strikes me as totally false, concealing an unfathomable inner turbulence. I wonder what evil he has done in the name of the Oaks, what secrets he has buried in his rotten black heart.
I swear, before this is over, I will know. I will know everything.
"So where are we headed?" Hands on hips, I walk toward their rent-a-car. "What's our destination, sis?"
"Hannahlee, don't." Quincy tugs Kitty's arm once more. "Remember what he's done..."
Kitty breaks away. "Like saving the Willow family again and again? Saving the town of Justice and all its citizens from criminal monsters? Saving the President of America himself and preventing the Ku Klux Coup?"
Kitty marches over and gives me a big hug. "Sounds pretty good to me," she says. "Sounds like the best big brother in the world."
I kiss the top of her head. For in instant, just an instant, I forget there's a chance—a big one—that she's not Kitty Willow at all. I have the reunion I've craved all along, the one I've dreamed of, the one I've killed for.
And then it all rushes back to me. The Poison Oaks must be destroyed.
I pull away from Kitty, but I keep a hand on her shoulder. "Where to? Where do we go from here?"
Her green eyes flash upon me. "New Justice, New Mexico. What do you say to that, brother?"
Grinning, I tousle her hair. "I call shotgun."