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Alongside the wall was a standing workbench. He went through the drawers looking at the various tools. He stopped when he saw a large roofing hammer.

He picked up the hammer, spun it in his palm then started back inside. That’s when he saw something better. Standing in the corner among a bundle of rakes, shovels, and hoes was an ax. He grabbed the tool and headed back inside.

Everything in front of him was darkness now, darkness so deep and all-consuming, the edges of his eyes pulsed with electric rage. His heart was once filled with love and life, but now it was this beating, crashing, nightmarish thing pumped full of hate, horror, and vengeance.

Inside, he saw the man on the floor and all he saw was death.

“Hold his arms,” Atlas growled.

The man tried to kick him, his wailing loud enough to wake the dead but not loud enough to reach Atlas.

He used the top of the ax to punch down on the man’s shins. Those legs stopped kicking. He hit him again with the top of the ax, this time shattering the man’s kneecaps.

“His name is Keegan White,” Leopold said.

With Keegan’s legs destroyed and his exhaustion taking over his ability to scream, the man who stole Atlas’s daughter descended into fits of pleading.

Atlas heard none of it.

He stood over the man with the ax at his side. Leopold had a panicked look on his face, but Kiera held his eyes, giving him the slightest nod of approval.

To Keegan, who was mewling now—literally crying and begging for his life—Atlas said, “You took my daughter and I see that you did vile things to her. You turned my wife away from me. I became a monster because of you.”

“I’m so sorry, man. I was wrong. What I did was wrong!”

“I want you to look at me the way she looked at you,” he said softly. “I want you to know that I’ve come for you, that I’m the monster standing over you the same way you were the monster that stood over her.”

In Keegan’s trousers, a wet stain blossomed and the faint smell of piss filled Atlas’s nostrils.

“Take it like a man,” Atlas said.

With that, he swung the ax back, slung it up and over his shoulder, and then with one smooth strike, he drove the blade bit deep into the man’s head.

The pulpy, cracking, splitting sound was like a wet snapping noise that had Leopold sitting back on his ass, wordless and looking unsure of how to feel. Kiera, on the other hand, went and stood over the split skull, staring down at the carnage. She then lifted a foot and stomped on the butt end of the ax, sinking the blade bit in just a little farther.

“If I would have known you were going to do that,” Leopold said to Atlas, “I would have worn sneakers.”

There was blood all over him.

“Thank you for this, Leopold,” Atlas said.

“Alabama is alive, I believe,” Leopold said, offering him words of hope. “I’m not going to stop looking for her, even when you’re back in the can. On this, I give you my word.”

Atlas nodded at him, grateful. “Bad people doing good things for the right reasons, that’s why we exist,” Atlas said in a moment of clarity. “That’s your legacy, Leopold, even if only the six of us know it.”

“I’m not a bad person,” Leopold said.

Smiling at him, nothing humorous or right in his grin, he said, “Keep on sucking that lie’s dick, Leo.”

Leopold made a face like he didn’t understand.

“When you’re in prison for three life sentences, you stop lying to yourself because, really, what’s the point? Doing what we’re doing, we’re all semi-decent people, engaging in one necessary evil after another because normal people are just too vanilla to do this sort of thing.”

Kiera nodded in agreement.

“I think I’m starting to see that, Atlas,” Leopold said, settled. “If there are no objections, I say we call it a wrap.”

“Are you ready, Kiera?” Atlas asked. She nodded. To Leopold, he said, “So I guess it’s a lot more travel.”

“You can put your feet up on the couch if you want,” Leopold said. “You’ve earned it.”

“Oh, you heard about that, did you?” Atlas grinned.

“I hear about everything.”

“Well, I appreciate that, Leopold. I honestly do.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

ATLAS HARGROVE

When they landed in El Paso, Yergha, Esty, Cira, and Atlas deplaned. When the pilot explained they were going to have a slight delay before they could take off again, Leopold and Kiera got out, to stretch their legs and say a proper goodbye.

“What about the Spark?” Esty asked Leopold.

“That turd,” Yergha said under his breath.

“You rented it using your alias, right?” Leopold asked.

“Of course.”

“I’ll make a donation or something to the rental car company for the cost of that bucket and we’ll be square.”

“Most people wouldn’t do that,” Atlas said.

“Contrary to your earlier supposition,” Leopold said, “I’m not a bad person.”

“We’re just good people doing bad things,” Esty said.

“Or bad people doing good things,” Atlas challenged. Esty smiled. “Has a better ring to it, yeah?”

She nodded and said, “I guess it does.”

When it was time to go, Atlas looked at Kiera for a long time. He hated seeing her go. There was something about her, something sad, something wanting and left unspoken. Before he could ask what she was feeling, Kiera and Leopold turned and headed back to the plane. But before the jet retracted its stairs, Kiera came back down the stairs, walked over to Atlas, and stood before him.

Smiling at her, he looked down and asked, “Did you forget something?”

She reached up, grabbed his goatee then pulled his face down. And then she tilted her head slightly and gave him a kiss. It was the sweetest, most passionate kiss he’d ever had and it lasted but a

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