Exit Kingdom

undecided about his next move when the slug’s face explodes before him, splashing his own face with moist, papery gore. He can also hear the bullet whistle by his ear, and when
he drops the dead man to the ground he can see the Vestal standing behind him, her pistol still aimed at where the slug’s head was a moment before.
    Goddamnit, hesays to her. You could of killed me.
    She looks at the pistol as though confused by its purpose.
    I didn’t think it would go all the way through him, she says. Did I get you?
    He grabs the gun away from her, his heart trilling in anger.
    Naw, you didn’t
get
me. Though it ain’t for want of tryin. You’re a goddamn menace.
    Well, pardon me for tryin to come to your rescue. It seemedlike you were in some peril – I ain’t ever seen so many bullets flyin wild.
    Moses stuffs the guns back in the duffel and swings it over his shoulder. He does not want to look at her. She is a reckless thing, a shameful thing.
    You know something? he says. I got a theory on you, and it’s a goddamn miserable one.
    A theory! I bet nobody ever mistook you for a philosopher.
    I got a theorythat maybe you wore out your soul whorin and deceivin. Maybe some part of you’s already dead – which is why they don’t take you.
    The moment is stricken by silence. A breeze blows cold and harsh across the bridge. Moses moves his feet against the sandy tarmac but makes no show to walk away. It would seem that there are no
directions leading away from this moment.
    Jesus, says the Vestalquietly. That’s an awful theory.
    I told you it was, says Moses almost in a whisper.
    Is that really what you think?
    He shifts his feet against the tarmac again. He would walk away from everything in the world if he could. A wandering man.
    Hey, look, he says, straining a note of apology. I’m shook up. You did me a service here. I ain’t the shooter of the family.
    They walk onin silence to the opposite side of the bridge where Moses climbs down to the water’s edge and washes the blood out of his hair and beard.
    The Vestal sits by him, soaking her feet in the cool water.
    So you never really learned how to shoot, huh? she asks.
    He holds up his right hand, palm downward, to show her. It is a thick, calloused paw, and it trembles as if in withdrawal from punching.

    I ain’t so steady, he says. I guess I’m more of a cudgel man.
    I would say so.
    *
    They walk, and they examine the cars abandoned on the road. It is more difficult than Moses had thought to find an operational vehicle. The tyres are blown out from the heat,
the gas burned out of the tanks, the engines rusted still. The weather in this area is harsh. It is easier in the south,where he is from.
    They walk all day and find no vehicle. They stay on the road that follows the reservoir’s north bank, and in a few hours they are beyond its tip where the barren dirt plains give way to
patches of pasture and farmland. Up ahead in the distance, Moses points to some buildings – but the sun is lowering on the horizon.
    It’s a town, he says. Gunnison. We’ve been seein thesigns. We can probably find a car there, but it ain’t advisable to approach a strange town after dark. You like to have
your eyes open for whatever’s comin your way.
    So they find an abandoned farmhouse where they can stay the night. They gather wood and start a fire in the fireplace, and there are some cans of chili left behind in the cupboards, so they heat
those and put them into ceramicbowls and eat with spoons. They sit next to each other on the couch and watch the fire and wait for their eyes to become heavy with sleep.
    This is nice, says the Vestal Amata, ain’t it? It’s like we’ve set up housekeeping. Like we’re a newly-wed prairie couple or something.
    Moses grunts non-committally.
    They are quiet. They wait. Then the Vestal speaks again.
    You worried aboutyour brother?
    He’ll last it, Moses says. He’s hard like a tree root.
    He is at that. You two are very different. He ain’t the most decent man in the world. I guess you know that. But you protect him.
    I’m his brother, Moses says. I ain’t much of anything in this world – but one thing I am is Abraham Todd’s brother. For good or poor.
    For a while Moses says nothing else, and it seemsas though the conversation will end there. Then he breathes in deep, still gazing into the fire, and speaks again.
    He could of turned out different given different circumstances. I guess we all could have. But I’m