“Is that right?” Sanders says.

Jesse makes himself stand. “You two take a break,” he says. “I’ll finish up.”

When the hole is deep enough, they lower Johona into it. Sanders asks Jesse if he wants to say anything. He doesn’t, doesn’t have the words.

“I’ll do it,” Edgar says.

“Leave it be,” Jesse snaps. He’s had enough of his brother’s jabber for tonight, enough for a lifetime.

He and Sanders fill the grave while Edgar sulks.

Sanders drives the truck back into town. Jesse keeps the .45 he took off the man pointed at his belly. No more mistakes.

“Where are you staying?” he asks Sanders.

“A motel near the Strip,” Sanders replies.

“Me and Edgar will be holing up with you for today.”

Sanders frowns but doesn’t protest. A while later he says, “How will you find the bikers?”

“The Fiends,” Jesse says. “They call themselves the Fiends.”

“Do you have a line on them?”

“I’ve got Beaumont. He knows where they are.”

“Then what? You and me and your brother go after them?”

“He’d be no help.”

“I can fight good as you,” Edgar says.

“Shut up.”

“So it’ll be two against four,” Sanders says.

“We did all right against seven.”

“That was luck,” Sanders says. His face is swollen from the beating he took at Beaumont’s, and there’s a cut on his forehead. He dabs at it with a rag. “If I get shot, I die.”

“I’ll turn you, if you want,” Jesse says. “Then they can shoot you ten times, and you’ll keep coming back.”

“I guess you think that’s funny,” Sanders says.

Jesse doesn’t reply. He has the man stop a few blocks from the motel where he, Edgar, and Johona have been staying.

“Give me the keys and your wallet,” he says.

Sanders hands the items over. Jesse opens the wallet and sees a photograph of a woman holding a child. “Is this your family?” he says.

“My wife, my son,” Sanders says.

Jesse points at the address on the driver’s license. “And this is where they live?”

Sanders turns to stone, doesn’t answer.

“If you’re not here when I get back, I’ll go to this address and kill everyone there,” Jesse says. “You understand?”

“I’ll be here.”

“Where you going?” Edgar says.

“Stay with Mr. Sanders. You’ll be fine.”

It’s past 4 a.m. The street is deserted. Jesse hurries along, but not so quickly he’ll attract attention. When he reaches the motel, he scans for Fiends. There doesn’t appear to be a lookout, so he jogs to the room, unlocks the door, and pushes it open. Drawing the .45, he steps inside and checks the bathroom. All clear.