Steve entered the large room where the infamous Bible study had been held, Johnny right behind him. There were several LaSalleites present, some of whom gave Steve a smile and even a slap on the back. Like it was a homecoming.
Which was not what he wanted. He hadn’t changed his mind about pulling out.
But those plans were on permanent hold. Johnny held Steve’s immediate fate in his hands. Johnny —
“Make yourself at home,” Johnny said.
— held his fate —
Johnny turned then and walked to the other side of the room. Where Neal Cullen was standing. Hadn’t taken long for Cullen to get bailed out. He smiled at Steve and waved.
No way, could it really be? Could Johnny have been the one to set this up? Had Mott planted coke in his car, so he would be forced to stay?
Johnny was whispering to Cullen. The men in the room had formed an informal circle around Steve.
The big door opened and he heard the familiar whirring of Eldon LaSalle’s wheelchair. Steve turned, and the men split like the Red Sea as Eldon wheeled through them, right up to Steve.
The old man stopped, looked at Steve, shook his head.
Johnny came over. “He’s okay, Eldon. He’s with us now.” To Steve, Johnny said, “You are with us, right?”
“You planned this, didn’t you?” Steve said.
“Planned?” Johnny said, with an oh-so-innocent look in his eyes.
“Enough,” Eldon LaSalle said. Then, wonder of wonders, he pushed himself to his feet and stood eye-to-eye with Steve. The sight unleashed cold ripples through Steve’s chest.
“Do you renounce Satan?” Eldon LaSalle said.
“Excuse me?”
“You are in the grip of the enemy, Son. Do you renounce him?”
Oh, this is nice, oh yes. Terrific. “Sure,” Steve said. “Why not? I’ve got nothing else to do.”
Then Eldon LaSalle slapped him with the back of his bony right hand. Little white lights sparked behind Steve’s eyes. He shook his head. And before he could do anything else, his arms were pinned behind him. Hard.
“What are you doing?” Steve said. “You crazy — ”
LaSalle slapped him again. “Quiet! You will renounce Satan now!”
Steve struggled in the arms that held him. The grip was iron. “Johnny, what is this?”
“You answer to me,” Eldon said.
The thought repelled Steve as much as the stench of the drunk in his jail cell. “I suppose you want me to get down and beg like a dog too,” he said.
“If I say you should, then yes.”
Steve stared into the dull, dark eyes of the old man. “Eldon, if I was a dog the only thing I’d do for you is lift my leg.”
LaSalle’s head snapped back, almost like he’d been slapped himself. Then he gave Steve another whack across the face, this one with extra mustard.
Then he said, “ ‘And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire.’ ”
“I’ll tell you what you can do with your lake of fire, you can take it and — ”
“Hang on a second!” Johnny said.
Eldon shot him a rebuking look. Johnny didn’t back down. “I’ve got it all worked out,” Johnny said. “Steve knows we can take care of his legal problem. He knows he owes us his loyalty. Right, Steve?”
“I don’t owe you or this motorized nutbag anything. And if I — ”
“Steve, please,” Johnny said. “Calm down and tell me you’ll work this out with me. That you’ll stay.”
Steve thought about it for two seconds. “I’ll take my chances on the outside.”
“Steve — ”
“Forget it, Johnny. I’d rather flip burgers than work for you or this withered old whack.”
LaSalle hit Steve once more.
Steve’s head rang. He was blind for a moment. Then he exploded by jerking his right arm free.
Without a thought he plowed his fist into Eldon LaSalle’s face. It landed with a smack against skin and cheekbone.
LaSalle went down like loose change.
For a moment there was a stunned silence, a calm before the cracking of thunder.
Then they were all over Steve, throwing him to the ground, punching the side of his head, his back. They went at him like kids at a piñata.
This is it, he thought. Lights out.
Then they were being pulled off him. He heard Johnny shouting, “Hold off! Get him to his feet!”
Hands grabbed his hair and shoulders and shirt and yanked him upright.
Two other LaSalleites were helping the old man into his chair.
For a moment Steve felt sorry for Eldon LaSalle. The feeling passed. This was a guy who needed to be off the earth for good.
No one spoke as LaSalle breathed in and out, in and out, running a scrawny hand over his left cheek.
Then he looked at Steve and said, “Take him out.”
The ones who had Steve’s arms almost pulled them out of the sockets. Steve tried to resist movement, but there was no chance.
He saw the smiling faces watching. He shouted, “If there’s a hell, that’s where you’re going!”
They shot him out to the corridor, opened what looked like a large closet, shoved him in, and slammed the door.
Into complete darkness. Steve felt for the door handle, and of course it was locked.
He remembered being afraid of the dark. Remembered the night terrors, and when Robert was put in his room so he wouldn’t be scared.
So much for that. Johnny LaSalle was a brother no longer. He may have had Steve’s blood in him, but in truth he was the spawn of Eldon LaSalle.
Steve heard something scurrying near his feet. He put his back against the door and didn’t move.
Okay. Okay. If there was any real justice, any real God, he wouldn’t let these things be done in his name. He would send down so much lightning, he would light up Eldon LaSalle like a Christmas tree, then let him burn and take the ashes and dump them in an Andy Gump chemical toilet along with the remains of Johnny LaSalle, and then he’d take care of the house and burn this whole mountain clean.
That’s what he would do if he were around, but he doesn’t seem to be around and what are they going to do with you now?
They can’t let you go. They can’t just let you walk out knowing what you know. They are going to take care of business is what they are going to do, and you are the business, and just how much longer are they going to keep me in here and where’s that rat? If it was a rat. If it wasn’t something else and . . . night terrors are preferable to this. I’ll take the night terrors again.