The Revelators by Ace Atkins

Author:Ace Atkins [Atkins, Ace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure, Thrillers, General, Crime
ISBN: 9780525539490
Google: huDrDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07ZC6HPK1
Goodreads: 48635843
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Published: 2020-07-14T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

• • •

“You know, you don’t need that shit,” Boom said.

“That’s what Maggie tells me,” Quinn said.

“Your wife is, you do realize, a fucking nurse.”

“You once thanked me for not judging you,” Quinn said, shaking two pills into his hand. “Appreciate you returning the favor.”

Quinn had parked outside the old Calvary United Methodist Church, right next to the cemetery where both his sets of grandparents and his Uncle Hamp and Aunt Halley were buried. It was a small, simple white-frame structure with a slanting silver roof, reminding him a lot of his farmhouse. He’d been attending church there most of his life; his mother, too. He and Maggie married there. Quinn’s parents were supposed to get married there before they hightailed it to Vegas. Quinn wondered where in the universe his father, the original Jason Colson, landed after once again leaving Jericho in shame.

“You think you can’t face another day without them,” Boom said. “But you sure as shit can. Pills, booze. Man, it’s like falling into a feather bed. Nothing matters. Nothing hurts. You just kind of live in that in-between world. Everything fuzzy at the edges like an ole-time photograph. Don’t you want to be sharp, clearheaded, and see the world? It’s about gratitude. About appreciating what God laid at your feet.”

“Damn, you sound like Caddy.”

“Where she at anyway?” Boom said.

“She texted me she’d call when she can,” Quinn said. “Said she’s meeting up with Hector Herrera. She believes he might can help her with that kid, Sancho. Boy won’t say shit to Caddy, pretends he only knows Spanish.”

“He’s scared.”

“Damn straight.”

“Caddy sure Jason’s with that girl?”

“Yep,” Quinn said, reaching down for his metal thermos. He poured himself a tall cup of coffee and then offered some to Boom.

“I’m good.”

“It’s coffee,” Quinn said, grinning. “Just coffee.”

Boom didn’t say anything, leaned all the way back in the passenger seat. He cut his eyes over at Quinn and then stared down the long gentle slope of the cemetery, the morning sun coating half of it in bright white light. His people were buried far on the opposite side of town behind a clapboard church in Sugar Ditch where his dad served as a deacon.

“Want to smell it?” Quinn said.

Boom turned to Quinn and yanked the thermos from his hand. He sniffed at the coffee and then handed it back. He didn’t say a word.

“Just trying to get through the day,” Quinn said. “Get things done. Move ahead without falling. I’m not hurting anyone. I’m not doing anything wrong. This is a doctor’s prescription. I was shot. Remember that? Four times in the back.”

“Your momma says what Elvis took came from a doctor, too.”

“I’m not Elvis.”

“You know when we were kids, after your daddy left, I had this feeling that Elvis was your real daddy,” Boom said, staring straight ahead. “Your momma had just showed us that movie where Elvis is that half-breed. What’s his name?”

“Charro.”

“Yeah, Charro,” Boom said. “One of those movies where he don’t sing and don’t dance.

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