[ TT ] Bounty hunters corner a man wanted for several counts of murder . The only information known of this man is that he was a missionary who came West to spread his faith . He is wanted dead or alive .

The old man looked fairly healthy for a death god. His belly poked out in front of his unsnapped jeans and slightly past his open black coat. He looked down into the very bottom of the bottle he was drinking from. 
 
 Henry snapped his fingers, conjuring a raven to speak for him. I'd known Henry before the sun was born. Before the first world was ashes and the second rose from it. He'd never told me how he got that scar across his throat. I'd never thought to ask. 
 
 We'd been hunting the old man for weeks, Henry and me. Now we'd found him. Holed up in a foul smelling place on the edge of a desert with two boys at his side. 
 
 For all the hair and lipstick, I knew they were boys. And not just because they were both naked. 
 
 `` Give it up, old man,'' the raven said. 
 
 I tried to remember Henry's voice before he lost it. I remember the dark more than anything. The cold quiet. His eyes burning for eternity. 
 
 I guess you could call him my father. Sometimes it's easier to forget most things. 
 
 The old man kissed one of the boys on the shoulder. Smoke rose up from the mark he'd made. The boy grew fangs. His limbs snapped and popped as they reshaped himself. 
 
 `` You've never had any imagination,'' the raven said. 
 
 The boy thing screamed, shaking the wood around us. It bit into Henry, who'd left only a shadow in his place. 
 
 I stepped aside as they fought. Or rather, the boy thing chased Henry and Henry destroyed bits of the boy thing until nothing was left. The place smelled worse the longer we stayed. 
 
 I drew my gun, pointing it at the old man, who'd yet to look away from his drink. 
 
 `` Are we done posturing? Vicki, we've been looking for you. This naughty death god bit is annoying the natives. We ca n't have that. You should come with us.'' 
 
 `` You do n't know my name,'' he hissed. 
 
 I did know his name. I knew what the people of that hot place called him. I knew what his new darlings called him. 
 
 `` I remember. I remember when you gave us all your real name and agreed to the pact. No worshipers. No cults. We do not exist. You know that. You know what you agreed to.'' 
 
 He looked up at me, finally. His eyes were swirls of black and gray. Once they were peaceful. Still. He'd gone mad somewhere in the desert. 
 
 `` I do n't remember you,'' he said. 
 
 I sighed, `` None of you do.'' 
 
 I fired once. The old man did n't even twitch. I blew a hole in his chest. He looked down at it, surprised. 
 
 `` He was too far gone,'' I said. 
 
 `` Probably, but you liked it too much.'' Henry kicked at the ashes where the old man had stood last. The raven perched on his shoulder, pecking at his short black hair. 
 
 `` Always did,'' I said. `` Will you remember this time?'' 
 
 `` I will try to, Lee'' the raven said. 
 
 I dusted off the bottom of my skirt, knowing he lied. It was still nice that he tried though. It was always nice when he tried.
